Stumptown Survival: The Complete Collection

by Noah Porter

  Ashley leaned back in her seat and asked, “So, what brought you guys to Hood River? I’m thinking it wasn’t for the drinking or the company?”

  Dylan spoke up, “Portland was a mess. We were staying in an art museum, but it was way too crowded.”

  Ben added, “Even if Mason had allowed us on the upper floors, it was too small for everyone.”

  “Oh, don’t remind me of the museum. I don’t even want to imagine what those hoodlums are doing now that the art has no protector.” Mason had his hand on his forehead in mock agony.

  Kyle leaned forward, “Seriously, he kept everyone terrified of him so that they wouldn’t bother the paintings. The world falls apart and his priority is the work of dead men.”

  Mason gave him a lopsided grin and said in a low and ironic voice, “Well, in a few months almost everything on this Earth will be the work of dead men, so don’t you want to know that someone will be there to protect your legacy?”

  That sobered the group and stopped the laughter for a bit. Phillip coughed a couple of times and tried to put the conversation back on topic. “So, you walked all of the way here? Why not drive? Cars still work, you know.”

  “Oh God, not a great topic,” Ben said throwing his head back, “We were all in a 16 wheeler-” Lily cleared her throat as she wrapped the cloth around her shoulders, “Right, most of us were in a 16 wheeler because it pushed through the traffic quite nicely.” The Hood River group seemed shocked. “Most of the cars were abandoned, so it’s not like we were shoving people out of the way. Good grief. Any way, it jackknifed and we were barely able to escape after that.”

  Connie covered her mouth with her hand. Austin asked, “What happened?” Sally asked, “Was everyone alright?”

  Kyle and Ben looked at each other, then over at Paige. Dylan answered, “No, both of the people in the cab were killed.” No one was going to bring up that one of those people had been Candice. Kyle and Ben seemed to be handling it pretty well, but Paige had taken the loss pretty hard; after all, she was originally going to be in the cab. It was only Candice’s insistence that she ride up front that changed Paige’s mind. Candice was becoming attached to Kirk, the driver, and Paige was afraid that it might have had something to do with the accident. She should have known.

  Dylan picked up the story, now that Ben seemed unable to continue, “Mason and Lily were in a car.”

  “Not all of us are built to act like cattle,” Mason said.

  “It was a lovely little coupe. Oh, the times we had,” Lily said dreamily into her water.

  “Anyway, they were the only reason we were able to get out of the trailer. Without them, I think we would have died there. A lot of our people seem to forget that.” Dylan was looking at Mason, who showed no signs of listening to the tale, and Lily was swilling the water apparently thinking of the few hours she had the car of her dreams. “Unfortunately, their car was trapped on the city side of the trailer, so they couldn’t keep it. We got out of the city without a vehicle. With so many of us, we would have needed a couple of really big vehicles or a lot of small ones. And since we didn’t know how much fuel we would be able to find along the way, we just kept to the river and walked.”

  The locals nodded. It wasn’t the safest means of transportation, but before the media had gone dark there had been stories of people burning gas stations in an attempt to burn as many zombies as possible. It made sense to stick to the safety of a river instead of being confined to the highway with the possibility of being trapped at one of the exits while trying to fuel up.

  Phillip pressed, “But why come this way at all?”

  Mason was drawing with the puddle of water on the bar. “Oh, we know a guy who knows a place. Supposed to be an impenetrable fortress, a bastion of safety. I like to call it, our little place in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Don’t mind him, he was never sold on the idea,” Lily responded.

  “So, why is he here?” Ashley looked at them inquiringly.

  The Portland group shrugged, knowing better than to ask him.

  Mason responded, “He’s just a fool who loves to put himself at the risk for the betterment of humanity.”

  Ben chuckled, “Yes, in a similar way as Stalin liked to help people escape his ire by shooting them in the head.”

  Mason sighed, “Now there was a man who knew how to control the mindless masses.”

  Dylan waved his hand at the conversation to indicate that the locals were in no way to take most any of it seriously. He could tell what they were thinking by the way they eyed Mason. “He came for the same reason as most of us did; a city is one of the worst places if you want to survive…whatever is out there. It’s hard to grow food. The dead outnumber the living in ratios that leave you next to no chance of surviving. There’s really no reason to stay.”

  This seemed like a plausible enough response, and with Mason still watching his finger as he drew in the water, offering no contradiction to the explanation, everyone figured it was probably true.

  Soon, the newcomers were asking the locals about why they were there. Phillip, Austin, and Sally worked in the establishment, so they were already there when things went wrong. Asher was a cop, and he had rescued people in the first few weeks, including Maddy and Ashley. Some had left, others had gone downstairs. All in all, they seemed like a rather laid back group, a nice contrast to the horror the others had been through just to get here.

  Over the next couple of hours, the people at the bar and in the dining area began to mingle, while others went downstairs to explore. Dylan tried to look for a time to catch Paige and get the decision makers together to plan their next move; a task that proved more difficult as the night went on. At one point, Andrew, Seth, Griffin, and Justin brought drinks up for the rest of them. Everyone but Mason had at least one drink. He simply shook his head, picked up a glass of water and headed out to the balcony overlooking the rest of the town and the river. Jackson and Claire followed him outside. A couple of the Portland party watched them attempt to interact with him, expecting that they would give up in disgust and storm back inside insulted. Much to the onlookers’ surprise, Jackson was laughing, continually holding his mouth with his hand to keep the noise to a minimum. Claire seemed a little less entertained, but even she seemed happy to be outside in the fresh air.

  After Andrew and the beer crew came upstairs, the noise level downstairs seemed to go up. Somehow they had gotten their hands on some equipment and they were playing music downstairs, in an attempt to make things into a full-blown party. Andrew shook his head, “I tried and tried and tried. I warned them about loud noises. They didn’t want to hear any of it. Those guys are nearly impossible to get to listen.”

  Justin giggled, “Man, they are so wasted down there. I mean, I can tell I’m a little out of it, but boy, they are gone down there.”

  Griffin laughed too; only Seth seemed to be unaffected by the alcohol. “I don’t see what is so funny. This isn’t a frat party. Those are the same idiots who didn’t want to clear the town. Now they are making enough noise to attract the whole town.”

  “Someone should go shut them up,” Justin said. “I’ll tray again, but I already know they won’t listen to me.” He and Griffin took off for the stairs, singing and gyrating on their way through the door.

  Fifteen minutes passed without any change in the music levels. By now Mason had heard the noise and had come inside, a look of pure annoyance on his face. As soon as he saw Mason walk through the door, Dylan stood up too. Clearly things had gotten out of hand and some sort of order needed to be established. He saw the look on Mason’s face go from annoyance to something Dylan didn’t recognize, a mix between surprise and joy. The fact that he was going for his crossbow was all Dylan needed to know that something was going terribly wrong in the hallway behind him. Instinctively, Dylan grabbed the chair he had been sitting in and turned around. Shambling into the room was a zombie.

  “Everyone to the patio,” he yelled. Most of the people had no
t noticed the new arrival and weren’t sure how to react to this sudden change in tone. Most of them sat still trying to process the instruction. A loud blast from the patio door turned their heads, just in time to see Mason holding a gun, which was now smoking. Immediately they turned to face the direction his gun pointed. The zombie was hitting the floor, but several more emerged from the same area. There was a collective intake of breath, then chaos. Several screams rang out in the room, while most of the people were up and heading toward the door. Mason stood back with a look of amusement on his face as people tumbled out the door.

  “I see. The plan wasn’t to take out the zombies when it was easy. This had to be done video game style. Up close and personal in close quarters. That’s a new strategy for survival. Personally I prefer strategies that involve the least risk in close quarters, but hey, this is fun too.”

  Dylan shouted at him, “Come on, Mason!”

  Mason walked toward Dylan, “What’s up, Dylan?”

  Dylan simply blinked at him, his arms hanging limply by his side with two of the chair legs touching the ground.

  “Oh, sure, the zombies are slow, we got all the time in the world. Just think it through, we wouldn’t want you to be inarticulate.”

  Kyle was standing nearby, grabbing a chair of his own and, moving forward, he shouted over his shoulder, “Shut up, Mason. We have to get rid of these guys.”

  “Do we, now?” Mason’s arms were folded across his chest. “Oh wait, you told me to shut up.” With that he leaned against a pillar and watched the creatures begin entering the room in greater numbers.

  Paige was closest to the shamblers. She swung a barstool, smashing it into the face of the nearest creature and knocking most of the ones entering the room either back or to the ground. “They are going down the stairs!” she cried trying to push them back to reach the stairs.

  Dylan was immediately by her side, shoving the chairs into the horde, driving them back. Ben, Phillip, and Asher were all moving forward with whatever they could get their hands on to push the creatures back.

  “How did these bastards even get in here?” Ben cried, drawing his arms back and thrusting the chair forward, impaling several of the creatures. Unfortunately, he missed their heads, so his weapon had now become more of a battering ram than a practical weapon. He let out a very loud explicative before heading back to grab another chair.

  Dylan looked over his shoulder at Mason, who was standing, arms still folded, watching them fight, without any sign of joining them. “Mason, please!” Dylan screamed at him.

  Mason raised his eyebrows, “If I recall, I was all for taking them out hours ago, but No, the group didn’t want to do the logical thing. They just wanted to get in somewhere safe, apparently so they could be completely wasted when they fought. I did not invite these things in and I don’t see why I should have to help solve yet another problem those mental midgets created.”

  Paige took a second to look at him, “Mason, please! We need help.”

  “And that reminds me, every single one of you wanted to take these things out to. Well, not Asher, sorry Asher you didn’t get a vote.” Asher threw him a look of total surprise. Here they were, fighting zombies, and this guy was going on about something that had happened earlier. Asher couldn’t believe that anyone could be so heartless, not with so many lives on the line.

  Mason continued to make his point, “I’m really not sure why any one of you is fighting right now. The door is right there. I will even help you get through it,” he leveled two guns at the zombies and shot, taking two down.

  Dylan thought, Where did he get guns? But what he said was, “Please! We can’t just leave. We have to try to save people.”

  Mason groaned, “Oh my, don’t some of us have a hero complex.” Rolling his eyes, he stepped forward and picked up two bar stools, “Please step aside.” Everyone but Asher moved out of his way. They had succeeded in getting the creatures corralled back into the hallway.

  Dylan tried to grab Mason’s arm, “What are you doing? We just need help, there’s no way you can take them all on!”

  “If you would please pull the cop out of my way. I would hate to get him confused with the zombies.” Kyle lunged forward and pulled Asher back and Mason adjusted his grip on the bar stools. Holding the bottom rung of the backs, Mason rotated his shoulders, making the stools’ legs face forward like antennae. With a lunge and a several quick movements with his arms Mason managed to spear all but one of the zombies in the front. Mason placed his foot on the chair Ben had recently run through the middle corpse and with a full body thrust, Mason managed to create a wave through the horde, driving the ones just entering the building back out the door. Many of the zombies lost their balance and fell over.

  Dylan, Paige, and the others could do nothing but stare at the display. Asher turned to them, and quizzically asked, “Who is this guy?” They responded with a shrug. “Does he do this kind of thing often?”

  Ben shook his head, “Not that we’ve seen. This is all new for us too.”

  Mason was walking back toward them while the corpses tried to gain control over their bodies again. “Thank you,” he said taking two bar stools from the other survivors in the room. “If you would be so kind as to get a couple more, that would be most helpful.”

  He turned back around and repeated the motion that had kicked off his first offensive. “After this, we should at least be able to reach anyone in the bathrooms and office.” He heard a familiar sound behind him of a gun being pulled from a holster, “I don’t recommend the use of guns at this point given the closeness - that and the small fact that I’m between you lot and them. I would really appreciate not being an accidental target.” He looked up at the corner of the ceiling and wall, the zombies finally making their way forward again, something that did not seem to faze him.

  “Actually, it would be really nice if you guys could make your way forward with your non-bullet based artillery,” then turning his head to face them, “After all, I’m just helping you.”

  Without turning around, he lunged forward, the legs impaling several of the creatures in the head. He finally faced them. With a sudden jerk forward with his arms, he pulled the impaled zombies, breaking the heads of a couple off of the bodies. Again the creatures toppled, and they could see the domino effect much better this time. Mason turned around with one of them, “Oh look, we won’t be scratching your floor now.” Blood plopped down from two severed heads onto the floor, “Never mind, it looks like it might make a different kind of mess. Not worth it.”

  Mason returned to his work, using the bar stools like a couple of brooms to move bodies out of the way and occasionally impaling those lying on the ground. When the creatures tried to advance, he simply kicked the bar stools on the ones in the front, knocking most of the horde back or down.

  “Uh, are you coming?” Mason asked as the group, who still hung back, in shock at what they were witnessing.

  “Are you sure we won’t be in your way?” Ben said, the first to regain the ability to move. He followed Mason’s lead and took two chairs.

  Mason looked down, “Pshh, chairs aren’t nearly as good for this sort of thing.”

  “I’m going to do a variation on your move.” Ben placed a leg of the chairs against the backs of chairs impaled in the horde in front of them. He made a twisting motion that threw zombies to the side, several of them striking the wall hard enough to break their heads open. “And now you don’t have to cleanup after them. No fuss, no muss.”

  “Well played,” Mason said looking a little impressed. The others had also regained their senses and had started to move forward. Mason darted to the side and knocked on one of the bathroom doors. He heard a familiar sound in response. Shouting through the door, he said, “My dear Lily and whomever is currently between her thighs, you might want to join us out here. It may not be quite as pleasurable, but I think you will find the benefits unrivaled.” Lily’s head poked out of the door, her hands working her shirt back o
n her body. She looked at the zombies and asked, “What happened?”

  “They knocked and I couldn’t say no. I mean, look at that face,” Mason held up a bar stool with a head on the end of one of the legs. Lily jumped back. “Could you say no to that face?” Mason slyly asked.

  Rolling her eyes, Lily responded, “It would be almost as easy as saying no to yours. What is wrong with you?”

  Mason gave her an incredulous look. “We have people choosing not to take out danger when it would be easy, and then acting like this is a frat house, attracting all of the zombies they refused to take down earlier. You, who in less than, oh, I’ll be generous and say six hours, in less than six hours are playing bunny in a bathroom. And you wonder what is wrong with me? Yeah, I guess you are right. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, saving all of you complete oxygen thieves. But now that I’ve started, I might as well finish.”

  Lily caught a slight movement in his face that she realized meant he was beginning to get truly angry, not just annoyed. It was not something she had seen before. She opened the door and tried to give him a kiss on the cheek, an action that he nimbly dodged, “Don’t put your mouth on me. I have a good idea of where it’s been.”