Back at his cabin he set up a reloading station and set to work preparing for the next day’s work. Counting out his shells he found that he had fired one hundred rounds exactly. He rubbed his shoulder that was protesting each and every one. He worked for a few hours reloading before exhaustion took over. He lifted his head from the table. Bright light met bleary eyes. He ran a hand over his face feeling stubble and grit.
Staggering to his feet he put a hand on the table to steady himself. All he wanted was more sleep. Instead he opted for coffee, stale bread and a handful of Tylenol before climbing back down from his cabin for round two.
It took him close to a week to clear the streets of zombies. He hauled bodies off by the dozens making a pile in the center of the high school stadium. Doused with gas they made the largest bonfire he had ever seen. He struck match to the mound of flesh and stood well back. When the smell hit him his stomach clenched. Gagging he stepped back further but not fast enough. His stomach heaved and he found himself on his knees staring at breakfast.
“I need a mask” he said out loud. “Yeah. A mask for sure.”
When that was done he started going door to door. He started with the grocery store. It was a small mom and pop store. Standing in front of it made his heart race. He took several quick breaths and pushed through the door. Putting down mom and pop proved to be more depressing than he had expected. He found the keys and locked the building down as tight as he could. Moving next door to the hardware store he searched until he found keys for it too and added them to the ring with the grocery store keys. As he was leaving again he spotted an old style wood burning stove. His face lit up in a smile. He found a cart to drag it outside and wrestled it into the back of his truck. He stocked up on ropes and winches and then headed home to get it put into place.
Cleaning out the buildings took even longer than clearing the streets. He started with the business first. Most of them were empty and he simply made a sweep, found the keys, locked them up and moved on. After that he moved onto the public buildings such as the library and town hall. Those were a little more treacherous, especially town hall. There were more zombies than he had expected and he almost got trapped on the top floor. The police station was surprisingly empty but the weapons locker was intact. He thanked the good lord profusely as he loaded each weapon into a bag.
He was more afraid of going house to house. The idea of getting trapped inside or opening a door to a room full of zombies was unnerving to say the least. He considered the problem for hours one morning before he came up with a solution. He took a loudspeaker from the police station. After scouting around each house and peeking in windows to get an idea of what he was up against he would make a tally of how many zombies were inside. When he was sure of how many that he was facing he would open the front door. Most times they were locked and if he couldn’t find a spare key or jimmy it open then he would kick it in. Yelling through the loud speaker, or sometimes just singing classic rock songs, he would draw them out and shoot them as they came through the door. After he was certain that no more would come out then he would cautiously venture inside. This tactic worked like a charm and although slow he cleared every house within a month safely without any surprises. The real problems didn’t start until the school.
Typical of very small towns there was one school k-12. It was essentially a large square with a courtyard in the middle. On the left attached to the main building was the cafeteria. To the rear was the gym and off to the right was an auditorium. The main door was chained forcing him to look for another way in.
“Surely nobody tried to hide in the school” he said out loud. “Well, gotta be sure. Let’s get this done” he said.
He worked his way around the building until he found a side door that was ajar. He pulled it open and slipped inside.vThat was mistake number one. He let the door swing shut and moved cautiously down the hall. He ran into his first zombie in what looked to be the high school wing. She might have been a very pretty brunette before she was turned. She probably was a crush of many of the young boys and this day in age maybe a few of the girls. Now she was dirty, rotting, and lunging for him. He drew his revolver and shot her in the head.
The explosion rang in his ears but luckily he still heard the others that the sound drew. He spun around and saw a half dozen corpses walking towards him arms outstretched. He emptied his magazine into them and had to switch out to finish them off. He did a quick ammo check and realized that he had only brought two speed loaders and his machete.
It was time to retreat. His head spun the direction he had come only to hear the sound of approaching feet around the corner. He started jogging towards the front entrance only to find the door chained and locked. He pointed his pistol at the lock toying with the idea of shooting the lock off but he was afraid of a ricochet.
“Damn it! So much for my best laid plans.”
The main office was right next to the entrance. At the sound of his voice corpses stood up and began pressing against the glass reaching for him. He turned to head the opposite direction when a small horde rounded the corner and lurched towards him. He could feel his pulse thundering in his temples. His arms started shaking as he brought the pistol back up to bear. He fired wildly trying to slow them down enough to make an escape.
Click! The gun was empty again. He reloaded and fired as he moved down the hall towards the elementary wing. When was empty he was tempted to toss his pistol at them. Instead he holstered it and drew his machete. He violently hacked and slashed at the groping hands backing up slowly staying out of reach. Hack and shuffle. Slash and move. He had cut the group in half but they were still coming on strong. The only thing saving him was that they kept crowding in each other’s way.
Then the worst happened. His machete stuck in the neck of what could have only been the powerlifting coach. A surprisingly short coach but its neck was huge. And his only weapon was jammed. When the zombie fell it pulled the machete from his hands. His eyes widened with panic and his breath came in pants and gasps. All of his careful planning was about to be ruined because of one stupid mistake. His eyes darted wildly looking for a way out. He spotted an emergency glass with an axe behind it farther down the hall and darted for it.
Using his pistol as a hammer he shielded his eyes and shattered the glass. He wrenched the axe out just in time to crush the skull of the first zombie to reach him. Then it was back to more of the same. Thinking quickly he took a desperate measure and backed into a classroom. He didn’t have time to shut it and lock it behind him but at least it forced them to come at him one at a time.
As they tried to get through the door he would swing overhead smashing them lifeless to the ground creating a barrier for the others to have to get past. He swung until he thought his arms and lungs would give out. When he couldn’t swing another time the last one fell to his axe. He slammed the door and wedged it with a chair before collapsing against the wall. His chest heaved and his arms were lead. He had to get out through the window if possible he decided. He would come back tomorrow and go back to his usual tactics. Grabbing the top of the desk closest to him he pulled himself up and tottered to the window. It didn’t open.
“What kind of fire hazard is this” he asked ruefully. “The Fire Marshall would be pissed!”
The axe made quick work of the glass. The noise drew more undead to his hiding spot though. He heard fists on the door as he cleared the remainder of the glass. He hurriedly slid through and made a dash back towards his truck.
He came back the next day as prepared as he could get. He circled the building twice looking through windows to get an idea of how many were inside. There were more than he had expected. Teachers, janitors, and of course students. He knocked the pins out of the hinges of one of the front doors and let it sag to the ground. He had backed his truck up to within fifty yards of the entrance and left it running in case things went south. He set a radio in front of the bullhorn and let it blast away drawing them from deep inside the school. He t
ook up position in the bed and proceeded to fire as they came. The little ones were the worst but he finally got them all.
When he had made certain that every nook was clear he put the door back on its hinges, boarded up the broken window, and moved the bodies to where he had burned the rest. Afterwards he went home and alternated crying and sleeping for days.
***
Walking in the woods predawn was always a little creepy even before the dead began to walk. He didn’t let that stop him from making the early morning walk back to his tree stand. Truthfully he supposed that he could just hunt off of his own deck, but he didn’t feel that was prudent. He liked to keep his kills far away from home. Fewer zombies wandered into his neck of the woods every week but he still liked to keep the area clear. He set up station and watched as his mind drifted. A flash of motion caught his attention. He snapped to and focused through his scope. He spotted a young woman, early twenties maybe, staggering through the woods. Her hair fell lank on her face. Her clothes were filthy. She couldn’t have turned long before. His finger tightened on the trigger when he spotted more motion out of the corner of his eye. Two more zombies were chasing the first. Her head whipped around when she heard them and she tried to pick up her pace.
“She isn’t turned” he exclaimed.
Quickly he shifted his aim to the lead zombie. It was gaining on her. She was panting and beginning to stumble. He centered his crosshairs and fired. The shot echoed through the woods and the zombie collapsed. The girl froze in her tracks at the sound head whipping from side to side. That was almost her undoing. The other zombie was almost on her when he dropped it too. Quickly he scurried down the ladder to the ground and hurried towards her.
She nervously watched his approach half crouched. Her chest was heaving and she shifted her weight away from him as he got close. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and held up his hands before him.
“I’m not going to hurt you” he said.
She stared at him warily. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Well, I did just save you” he replied. She didn’t answer him immediately. “Where are you from?”
“Texas” she finally replied. “I’m from Texas.”
“What’s your name Texas?”
“Cassie” she finally choked out.
“Well Cassie, I’m Tim. Where are you headed?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“I have a cabin nearby. It’s safe. If you want you can stay the night there. You’re the first survivor I’ve seen in a long time.”
She looked him up and down, her breath steaming in front of her, for several long minutes before nodding her head. He jerked his head the direction of his cabin and started walking. She fell in beside him and he slowed to let her match pace. When they reached his cabin she looked up the ladder and groaned involuntarily.
“Don’t worry” he said. “It’s not that bad and once we get up there we’ll be safe from any zombies that wander by.”
“That’s what you think” she replied before starting to climb.
He wanted to ask what she meant but instead he shimmied up the ladder behind her. She clambered onto the deck and walked straight inside without stopping. She turned around slowly examining the room as he came in.
“What kind of place is this?”
“It was a small resort before everything happened. People would come here to elope or celebrate anniversaries.”
Cassie glanced to the corner at the giant heart shaped tub. “I hope you don’t have any expectations here.”
He felt his face go flushed and stuttered out “of course not!”
“Good. Now where do I sleep?”
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You don’t snore do you?”
“If I do” he said with a small lopsided grin “no one has been around to complain. I’m starving are you hungry.”
Her stomach grumbled in reply. She sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face.
“Do you want to take a bath while I cook?”
“And let you get a free peep show? I don’t think so. There’s not even a curtain around that tub. I thought you said that you weren’t expecting anything?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I just asked. If you’d like a bath I can hang a blanket up for a privacy curtain.”
She stared at him for a long minute before agreeing. He hung a blanket and started cooking while splashing and contented sighs came from behind the makeshift curtain. Twenty minutes later he called out that the food was ready. He heard the tub begin to drain and as he was setting the table Cassie came out drying her hair with a towel.
“This is the first time I’ve felt human in weeks. Thank you for the bath and rescuing me. I’m sorry I’ve seemed a little ungrateful. Things haven’t been good for awhile and trusting a stranger isn’t exactly easy.”
“No worries” he replied. “Now are you ready to eat?” In reply she grabbed her spoon and started digging in.
“How long have you been hiding in this tree house?”
He stopped for a second thinking. “I’m not actually sure. More than two years, but less than three. I’ve kinda lost track.”
“Damn. Alone this whole time?”
“Yeah. It hasn’t been so bad though. I keep busy.”
“Doing what” she asked while lifting her spoon to her mouth for another bite of chili.
“Cleaning house mostly. When I got here the town close by was crawling with zombies. Literally. It took a little time and a lot of bullets, but I’ve got the place zombie free except for the occasional stray. That’s what I was doing when I found you, trying to keep the woods free.”
“Why go to all that trouble and risk if it’s just you here?”
He shrugged his shoulders before replying. “I keep hoping that eventually others will find this place. I’m trying to make a kind of sanctuary for if and when they do.”
She shook her head. “Having a bunch of people in one place is a bad idea. It just draws attention to you.”
“What do you mean?”
She put her spoon down clattering in her bowl. “You haven’t asked where I’m from. How I got here.”
“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. I didn’t want to pry.”
“I lived in Texas. On a ranch” she began without any preamble. Her eyes got a vacant look as she started to recount her story.
“When everything started my father, his workers, and their families hunkered down and tried to survive. We beat back wave after wave of those things. We put up miles of fencing. All kinds. Whatever we could find. Tornado wire. Barbed wire. We even built a stretch of wall from old power poles. We thought that we were safe. Most of them if they run into a wall will just keep pressing against it. It was nothing to run a patrol around the perimeter daily and pick off any that we found. Some of them aren’t like the others though. We found out too late that some of them are smarter than that. Some of them are pretty damn cunning!”
She broke off with a sob and put a hand to her face. He instinctively moved closer to her and put an arm on her shoulder. She twitched at the touch but didn’t pull away.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” he said, but she shook her head before continuing.
“It was late one evening. We had run patrols along the fence all day and there was nothing out of the ordinary. We set guards like usual and were settling in for the evening. My dad pulled out his guitar and was singing some old Waylon Jennings songs. Sam, my sister, and I were sitting on the floor listening when the screaming started. They had snuck in somehow and ambushed our guards. They stormed the house like an army. My dad threw down his guitar and pulled out his pistol. He told us to get upstairs and block the door. We ran upstairs to hide. It wasn’t long before we heard people screaming inside. We heard our dad yelling for us to get out. Before…. Before…. We grabbed our bags, we were told to always keep a bag packed, and went out the window onto
the roof. It was like we were in high school again sneaking out to meet boys. We slid down the tree beside the house and ran for our lives. We reached the fence to find that someone, something, had clipped the wire near the bottom to make a hole. One of those things still had the intelligence to use wire cutters! They also climbed up the guard towers and took out our guards. That made the whole thing even more terrifying.”
After a long pause he asked “what happened to your sister?”
She looked down and wiped away a tear. “I’m sorry; I haven’t had anyone to tell this to since it happened. My sister didn’t make it. They caught her just outside the fence. I tried to save her but there were just so many. I could hear the screams for a long time. I couldn’t get away from it no matter how fast I ran.”
“It’s ok. There was nothing you could do. But at least you’re safe now.”
“I could have gone back! I should have at least tried to save her! If nothing else I could have put a bullet in her head to save her hours of agony. They started with her feet and ate their way up!”
He hugged her close to his chest as she broke down in tears. He let her cry until his shirt was soaked. When she finally grew quiet he looked down and realized that she had cried herself to sleep. He scooped her up as gently as he could and put her in his bed. He dimmed the lanterns and put the food away before laying down on the couch. He thought about her story. The idea of one of those things still able to scheme and rationalize was disconcerting to say the least. Much less one that could lead an organized attack on a well armed ranch. He worried about it for close to an hour before he fell asleep.
****
When he woke up the next morning Cassie was still dead to the world. He tried to put together breakfast as quietly, but he probably could have set off fireworks she was sleeping so hard. He took a glance at her small pack beside the bed. She was definitely traveling light. He noticed that it was packed neatly, clothes were laid out to put on easily, and the handle of her pistol was sticking out from under her pillow.
Encounters Page 8