by J. D. Demers
It had been just over a week and I was already growing accustomed to my new situation. I had Boomer to thank for that. I probably would have gone nuts without him. Just like dogs, humans are pack animals who need companionship. I even held conversations with him. Maybe I was going a little crazy, but I needed someone to talk to, even if they couldn’t talk back.
On one of my passive days of staying in and around my house, Boomer gave me an alert which was a little different than usual. He froze as normal, with perked ears, but that time his head tilted back and forth. He didn’t sniff at all, and didn’t come over to me like usual. He was listening to something.
A minute later, I heard it too. It was a small, buzzing sound. It was growing louder, and I was reminded of the time I was leaving the airfield in Afghanistan. It was the sound of a C130 cargo plane that the Air Force flew. Certain sounds you could never forget, and from what Boomer and I were hearing that day, it was pretty far off.
I took a chance and went out the back door with Boomer in tow. I would like to note that the smell of Sarah and Dave’s headless bodies were pretty ripe, but at least they were lying motionless in the middle of my yard and not bashing in my windows.
It was early afternoon and the sky was spotted with white clouds. I looked up in the sky, and didn’t see anything at first. Then, it appeared from behind a cloud. It was south bound, flying directly over the middle of the city. Its altitude was pretty high, so I didn’t think they were flying around looking for survivors. They probably couldn’t see a car moving from that height anyway.
Boomer was facing the aircraft too, fixed on the direction of the sound. Then, his ears perked up even more, and a second later I heard a high pitched whining sound, and then a loud, echoing pop. The cargo plane kept flying south. No directional change or anything. And that was that. After waiting for another ten minutes or so, I went back in. I guess I had hoped more would follow.
It was both exciting and depressing. Exciting because it meant there was some sort of government left. I doubted survivors would be flying a C130 around just for kicks, or to get an aerial view of the beaches. They were on some sort of mission. The depressing part was that their mission wasn’t to come save the citizens of Palm Bay or Melbourne.
It was the first sign of life I had seen since Sarah. I knew there were other survivors out there. Each night was filled with the sound of moans and shuffling as zombies took to the streets, and not a night went by that I didn’t hear a gunshot somewhere out in the city. But just because I knew they were out there didn’t mean I knew where they were.
Boomer helped me on my next couple of runs to pick up supplies. Unfortunately, he couldn’t jump fences, which was a major handicap for scavenging runs. Sneaking into broken out windows was a little tough, but it was worth it. Boomer didn’t particularly care to be hoisted up over the window sills, but after the third house, he got used to it.
I didn’t have to worry about zombies in a house that I planned on raiding. He gave dead giveaways every time I wanted to check out an infested house. With my new best friend, I knew whenever there was a zombie lurking around a corner or hidden behind a bush or tree. It was great. We made quite the team.
During one of our runs, we came across a prospect for a new home about three blocks from where I lived. Three blocks is a thousand miles in zombie world, but I felt confident with Boomer at my side.
The house was only a couple of years old and sat on a corner lot. It probably wasn’t the best position for security, but it did allow for a good vantage point. I could see solar panels on the roof, and it had a four foot high black iron fence in the front yard. The backyard had a newly built wooden privacy fence. There were no vehicles in the driveway either, which meant there was a chance the house was empty.
The big bonus was that this home had hurricane shutters, and they were already up and attached to the windows. Newer homes in Florida were required to have hook ups for hurricane shutters when they were built. They are panels that would screw over the windows. Most were metal, as they were in the case of the house I was standing in front of. I thought the owners of this home were probably worried about burglaries during the crisis, and hung the shutters before they left. That meant that zombies had not bashed in the windows. It looked like a fortress compared to where I was living.
Boomer and I were able to sneak up to the front door and found that it was locked. I could have easily gotten a screwdriver to remove some of the panels that held the shutters on, then busted in a window, but I wanted this house intact. That meant breaking down the front door wasn’t an option either.
I moved over to the privacy fence and saw that these owners had a padlock on the gate. It was one of those heavy duty ones and I would need a large pair of bolt cutters to get it off.
On the way back to my house I decided that I would cut the lock on the fence. I saw no other choice. Even if I had to bust a window, I would prefer it to be in the back yard rather than the front. But I didn’t have any bolt cutters, nor did I see any in the houses I had cleared. I contemplated going back to those houses and doing a more thorough search.
In the end I made the decision to do something different. I had yet to traverse out of my neighborhood, and was scared to try. If I wanted to survive, I would eventually have to leave. I would just have to be extra careful. There was also the prospect of running into another survivor. I was a little leery of that because of what had happened with Sarah. After that fiasco I knew I couldn’t reveal the fact that I had been bitten by a zombie. Luckily, my wound was healing nicely and I thought I may be able to pass it off as something else.
I decided that the best place for me to go was an Ace Hardware about five miles down the road. We had a couple of them in Palm Bay, which were smaller and more convenient than the larger hardware stores.
I wouldn’t walk, though, because that would just be suicide. I had no idea how many zombies there were or how they would be dispersed. I could easily get surrounded and not even know it.
That night I added some equipment to my scavenging gear. I would have my car, so I wasn’t too worried about my weight. I took Dave’s ammo vest and loaded it up with eight magazines for one of the AR-15’s. I decided on the one with the red dot scope on it. Chances were that I would not attempt to snipe any of those things from a distance.
I also took out two packages of MRE’s just in case the trip took longer than expected, or I got pinned down over night. I loaded up my backpack with both solar and one battery powered flashlight. I also took along the things I brought with me to my house raids, including my Glock with four back-up magazines.
That night, I started making a list of things I would need. I thought I might as well take advantage of the free shopping. I listed a couple of padlocks, a few other tools, and some way to distil water. Florida was known for its afternoon showers, but I knew bugs and bacteria would easily pollute any water I collected because of our tropical weather. The pipes had lost water pressure a few days earlier and even the water I had stored in my house was getting dangerously low.
One of the things that topped my shopping list was solar power. Charging my solar flashlights daily had given me an idea. There were plenty of solar lights that lined people’s driveways. I thought if I could pick up a few new ones at the store, I could light the inside of that house every night and charge them during the day.
For over a week I had been venturing out of my house amongst creatures that wanted nothing more than to eat me. That had increased my bravado which, of course, violated a rule of mine. But staying in my neighborhood would probably end with me starving to death. The thought of the unknown beyond my neighborhood made me apprehensive while I tried to sleep that night. I probably only slept for two or three hours.
I was pretty tired when I woke up the next morning. The idea of doing something new was a little elevating, and helped me suppress the growing anxiety in my stomach. Boomer seemed excited too. It was like he knew we were going to be doing something differe
nt. I did all of my normal checks around my house before I loaded up the car.
Closing the car doors must have been louder than I thought, because two zombies started shambling their way in my direction. They were more than a hundred feet away. Deciding they were nothing for Boomer and me to worry about, I started the car and headed out of my neighborhood.
I noticed more and more vegetation missing over the last few days. As I rounded out of my neighborhood and on to one of the main roads, I saw more of the same. Bushes ranged from being partially stripped to completely bare. Even the trees were not spared with their low lying branches stripped to nothing. There were some that were untouched which gave the landscape a very odd and creepy appearance. I also saw lines of grass that had been ripped out by the roots, just like what was done in my backyard. I realized it was Dave that had mowed the lawn.
Other than the emaciated vegetation, I didn’t notice much of a difference from when I tried to make it to one of the FEMA camps the day I had shot Dave. I would pass the occasional zombie who would immediately turn and try to follow me, but most seemed to be off hiding somewhere. It was an eerie feeling. If I had only the day time to go by, I would think there were just a few zombies. In contrast, at night I would see up to fifty and heard many more pass by my house. That’s not even including the chorus of zombies I could hear off in the city as the sun went down.
I made it to the intersection where I saw the bald man get ravaged on the first day of the Awakening. His body was gone, and any blood that had been there was washed away by the various spurts of rain that had rolled through over the past few weeks. The car that had been smoking from the accident was now half burnt.
I turned south toward the hardware store. It was pretty much a straight drive, with mostly trees, bushes and grass on either side. Road offshoots led to giant neighborhoods behind the vegetation. And like the other plants around my neighborhood, these showed signs of the zombies as well. I wondered how long it would take for them to strip all the plant life in the city. Florida vegetation grew pretty fast with the heat and amount of rain it received. I doubt they could keep up with it.
In the next large intersection, there was a fire truck parked in the middle with other cars pulled over or stopped in the middle of the road. I wondered what had happened there. Why would people just stop in the middle of Armageddon and get out of their cars?
There was an old gas station on my left, with another one across the road to the south of it. To my right, there was a storage complex, and across from that was a huge L shaped strip mall. That strip mall was where the hardware store was, along with a chain grocery store, a large clothing outlet, and a host of smaller businesses. There were also various fast food buildings lining the edges of the giant parking lot. I thought to myself that if this run was successful, I could make regular trips down here to stock up on other items that I may need.
It wasn’t easy, but I continued on through the intersection. I almost got stuck between two vehicles. I scraped the side of my car, which made a very unwanted loud screech. Not bothering to see if I had alerted anything or anyone, I pressed the gas and kept heading south. The hardware store was near the road, so I wouldn’t have to worry about driving deep into the parking lot, which had random cars spaced throughout.
I decided not to try my luck inside the parking lot and parked just off the road. I could see various heads bobbing around. Not a lot of them, but that meant that zombies were in this area. I had to consider my car would attract them if I drove right in front of the store. I couldn’t take that chance.
With my AR-15 hung from my chest on a single point sling, Boomer and I made our way to the store. The canine was definitely on alert as we crossed over into the parking lot. He made various nervous gestures towards a group of cars a couple of hundred feet away from us. I was sure there were zombies hiding between the vehicles, but either they were comatose or just didn’t know we were out there.
On the side of the Ace Hardware, there was an outside fenced area where they would keep their plants and other outdoor equipment. The fence had a chain dangling from it like they had tried to prevent looters from coming in. Thankfully, the lock had been hacked off. Evidently, someone else had needed something from inside the store. The front windows were still intact, though, which meant if anything was in there, it hadn’t left.
The outside part of the store wasn’t that big and only had two broken up aisles. I could see plants thrown to the side, other things knocked off of shelves, and one of the two glass doors had its bottom shattered out, but was still shut. I guess they reached in and unlocked it. I quietly thanked the fellow looter.
As we made our way in, I let Boomer take the lead. I had a feeling the he knew that we were there for a good reason, and it was his job to make sure the area was safe. Boomer rounded each aisle, and then stopped at the broken door. His ears were up, he sniffed away, and then he flattened his ears and came back to me. It wasn’t a good sign. I wondered if the looters that broke in ever made it out.
I hesitated. Gunshots inside would undoubtedly attract the zombies in the parking lot. Though I was sure the glass in the front of the store was sturdier than your average home, I knew these things were strong and it would just be a matter of time before they broke through. Going into the store now violated a couple of the rules I had set for myself. Terror was starting to overwhelm me. I started to turn and leave as panic set in. There was no way I was going in there.
You came here for a reason, son. My dad’s voice echoed in my head.
It was the conversation we had when I decided to join the military. We were at the recruiting station. He drove Dave and me up to Jacksonville to be sworn in and sign the final papers that would enlist us into the Army. Dave had rushed into the building to relieve his bladder, and it was just my dad and me in the car. My father was halfway out his door but I had yet to budge.
“You came here for a reason, son,” my father said as he sat back down in the driver’s seat. “If you don’t want to do it because you feel it’s not for you, that’s okay. But don’t back out because you’re scared. It’s okay to be afraid, but never let that fear make the decisions for you.”
My dad was never short of inspiring words, even if they were negative. In that case, he knew I was afraid. I tried to hide it, but my father could read through any mask I tried to wear. I was scared to face off with a Drill Sergeant, afraid to live the hard life my dad had, and scared shitless of going to war. I wasn’t really afraid of dying. Hell, most kids my age thought we were immortal.
“Okay, dad, I’ll bite this time,” I whispered to myself, staring at Boomer who was on alert. “Come on Boom, we’re not done here yet.” Boomer tilted his head and looked at me like I was an asshole, but he complied.
We moved over to the entrance, and Boomer peeked in. He gave me one last pitiful look before he leaped through the bottom part of the door, carefully avoiding the broken glass. I checked the handle, and pulled. It was unlocked. I opened it up and peered in.
The front windows shed light throughout the entrance area of the store, which was good. This reassured me in my choosing Ace Hardware instead of one of the other bigger stores. Home Depot and Lowes had huge aisles, and I was sure most of the building would be too dark to move through safely, even without the threat of zombies. That being said, the light only went so far into the Ace Hardware store. The back of the store was cast in a dark shadow.
There was also the familiar smell of rotting flesh. By then, most of the town carried the scent of death, but there was no mistaking when the dead were close. The odor was stronger and more pungent. Thankfully, we were near the outdoor tool aisle. I grabbed a pitchfork and let my rifle hang loose in front of me. The long tool seemed like a good plan. I could push zombies away from me without being in striking distance.
My plan was pretty simple. I grabbed a shopping cart and moved it as quietly as I could near the door we came in. When it was loaded, I would quickly roll it out to my car and unload i
t. I still hadn’t heard any sounds of the dead, nor had I seen any blood splatters or rotting pieces of flesh. That was a good sign.
Avoiding the back of the store, Boomer and I made our rounds silently and carefully. We picked up plenty of driveway lights, spare batteries, and the pair of bolt cutters I wanted. I had grabbed a tool box that I filled with basic tools when Boomer let off a low whine. That, I knew, was a bad sign.
I looked down at my friend and he was pointing in the direction of our exit. I couldn’t see the door because we were a few aisles away, but I could hear something. The sound of small pieces of glass cracking and falling was accompanied by an eerie scraping sound. We prowled through the aisles toward the exit. I listened carefully as the growing sound of a moan came closer.
I rounded the last aisle and saw a giant of a zombie. He must have been six and a half feet tall, and as heavy as my refrigerator. He wore a torn up shirt and his jeans were stained with dry blood. Part of his arm had been gnawed upon and most of his face was missing. Fresh scrapes and gouges were on his stomach and face, with trails of black ooze streaming down his body.
He saw us and croaked like someone who suffered from emphysema.
Boomer hugged the floor and let loose a low growl from his chest. He looked like a lion about to pounce. His snarl seemed to antagonize the brutish zombie, and he sluggishly walked towards us.
I dropped what I was carrying, including the useless pitchfork that would not have a chance of pushing away the monstrosity in front of me. The garden tool clanged as it hit floor, echoing throughout the building.
I lifted my rifle and pointed it up at the zombie’s head. The good thing about the Trijicon red dot sight was that it didn’t need a battery. However, it wasn’t a classic “red dot”, but an orange triangle. The tip of it was where the bullet was supposed to go, that is, as long as it was sighted properly. I was hoping Dave had already zeroed all of his weapons sights before he met his demise.