“What do you suggest then?” Buffey questioned.
Chris’ enthusiasm peaked now that he had Buffey’s attention. “We just take some string or wire and some of the beer cans in the trash and string ‘em together. It’s simple and, for the most part, works well. I managed to get a roll of bailing twine when I was at the grocery store. We take some of it, poke holes in the cans to string up then just put like, I don’t know, a couple of pennies in each can to rattle around. Anything trips it and BAM!” Chris clapped his hands together at the end of his sales pitch.
“Well what is the other problem it would solve?” Ashleigh requested.
“Like I said,” Chris said grinning. “I’m bored.”
“Okay sounds good, but that’s still dangerous. What if we attract those things with this contraption of yours? On the other hand, what if it gets windy? It’s not exactly foolproof.” Buffey had her doubts about the idea especially since one or more of them had to go outside and set up Chris’ idea.
“Well I’d like to think that we would notice if it got windy outside. This rain sucks, but it’s not going to last forever. We can use this at night as a backup.”
“Well, alright then. Go get what you need, me and Ash will cover you from the porch. Rickey, stay with me and Ashleigh.” Buffey began to laugh. “And put some clothes on, buddy.”
The group spent the next hour preparing their alarm system. Chris stabbed holes near the top of the cans and handed them to Ashleigh who put five coins in each one. Ashleigh then passed off to Buffey who strung the cans through the bailing twine. They made both of the lines, trying to keep them from being tangled. They did not want to stay outside any longer than they had to, and none wanted to spend that time entangled in their own trap.
When they were satisfied with their work, they got ready to put their alarm in place. Chris went over to the kitchen counter and picked up his .45 and holster. He got his boots on and gathered up his extra clip. Buffey, Ashleigh, and Rickey also got ready. Chris told Buffey and Ashleigh that he was going to run two lines. One from one end of the house to the other, passing in front of the porch. Chris would put a can every three to four feet. They would be able to hear anything coming near the front of the house. For the back of the house, Chris would run it from two trees approximately twenty feet away from the house. The back of the house did not have a porch on it, just a set of steps. Since they had boarded up the sliding glass door that led to the steps, they were not able to see outside at the back of the house. Chris suggested that since they could not see, at least they would be able to hear if anything was in the back of the house. The small woods that made up the backyard were a natural deterrent to the undead, but they wanted to be ready nonetheless.
Chris racked his shotgun and handed it to Buffey. He loaded the .22 and handed it to Ashleigh who looked at him in disgust. “Really? She gets the shotgun and I get the pea shooter?”
Chris laughed and patted Ashleigh on the shoulder. “You’ve never shot a gun in your life. Let’s start with the small stuff and work your way up.” Chris motioned to the door and smiled. “Shall we?”
Chris filed out the door first with the first line. Buffey and Ashleigh followed. The sound of the cans rattling made Chris uncomfortable. The fog was thick enough to where he could not see more than fifty feet in front of him. The fog coupled with the noise of the cans made it difficult to see or hear anything beyond the front yard. Chris stepped down from the porch and signaled back to Buffey and Ashleigh to stay put.
“I got this. Just keep me covered and I will be done in just a few minutes.” Buffey bit her bottom lip nervously and nodded. Chris unsnapped his holster and began. He swiftly moved to the end of the trailer with the cans rattling behind him. He was certain it would work since the noise he was creating would certainly be audible in the house. He got to the end of the trailer and tied the first end to the corner downspout of the house. Chris made his way back to the front porch and grabbed the other end of the line. He ran it in front of the posts on either side of the porch, went to the opposite end, and tied it to a tree near the end of the trailer. Chris looked back and gave the line a tug, and the cans rattled in unison.
Ashleigh spoke in a loud whisper. “Come on, get this done. I hate being out here” she hissed. Chris looked up at Ashleigh and mockingly blew her a kiss. She in returned playfully gave him the finger.
Chris went to the back of the trailer and repeated the process. He tied it to the same tree as the other and this time ran it to the back of the trailer in front of the steps. He again gave the line a playful jingle. He stood back, admired his work, and smiled. His smile faded as he heard the sound of a car horn in the distance. Buffey and Ashleigh undoubtedly heard it as well as they shouted for him from the front of the house. Chris ran to the front of the house as he heard the car horn again. He looked through the tree line and could make out what looked like a set of headlights coming toward the house.
“Chris! Someone’s coming!” Buffey and Ashleigh shouted from the porch as the sound of screeching brakes and the spinning acceleration of gravel being thrown was heard. Chris feverishly pushed his hands toward them.
“Go back inside; I will take care of them!” Buffey and Ashleigh hesitated. “GO!” Chris yelled as he looked back. When he turned back there was a blue Chevy pickup truck barreling toward the front of the house where his truck was also parked. Chris pulled his .45 from his holster and pointed it in the air. He fired a warning shot and then aimed the pistol with both hands at the driver’s side of the windshield. The truck immediately came to a stop fifty feet away from him. Chris squinted as he stepped towards the truck. He thought he heard a woman scream from the passenger’s side of the vehicle. He ran over to the driver’s side door as it opened and a familiar figure stepped out.
“Holy shit dude! Is that how they say hello where you’re from?”
“Ronnie! Oh my God! I almost shot your ass! Who’s with you?” Chris noticed he was still holding his .45 at Ronnie at gunpoint and quickly holstered the weapon. He ran over and quickly hugged Ronnie.
“Lori is in the passenger seat. We need to get her inside. I think you just put her into labor,” Ronnie said half-jokingly.
Buffey appeared on the front porch of the house as Chris and Ronnie were moving to the passenger side of the truck. Lori gout out slowly. She was 34 weeks pregnant and did not move swiftly. “LORI! RONNIE!” Buffey shouted as she ran towards them. She met both of them in the middle of the yard and they shared a compassionate, yet brief group hug.
“I think we got more company,” Chris yelled as he fired his first shot towards a group of zombies that had heard all the commotion. In the excitement, none of them had noticed that they were nearly to the end of the driveway. Chris heard the jingle of the cans in the backyard as well, meaning more were coming.
“Get Lori inside!” Chris barked. Buffey did as she was told and hurriedly shuffled Lori through the front door. Over the clatter of gunfire, Chris shouted to Ronnie. “Ronnie, what guns did you bring?” Chris knew that it was not a matter of if more a matter of which guns Ronnie had brought. Ronnie reached into the back of his belt and pulled out his 9mm.
“I got this one, my shotty, and my 30-30. All of ‘em loaded. They all in the back of the truck in a bag.”
“Good man! Grab the 30-30 and we will take care of these out front here first,” Chris said as he dropped the first of several undead making their way toward them. Ronnie took up cover in front of his truck and took aim at the first ghoul he saw. He fired two shots at the approaching zombie and immediately dropped it in a spray of pink mist. Chris fired at four more coming up from their left. They were slow walking and made easy targets for the men. Chris checked his clip and reloaded.
“Come on! I set up an early warning system in the back. I heard it go off right as Lori and Buffey were going in.”
“I think we got all of ‘em out here. You lead,” Ronnie reached into the back of the pickup and picked up his lever-action 30-30. �
��I follow.”
“Alright, this way!” Chris checked his pistol and motioned Ronnie to the left side of the trailer. Chris heard the cans jingling again as he approached the end of the house. At least his contraption had served its purpose, even if this was the only time they would make use of it. Ronnie fell in line behind of Chris as they neared the end of the trailer. Chris looked to Ronnie. “You go high, I go low,” he whispered.
Chris estimated by the sound of the dead beating on the side of the trailer that there were four or five of them. Chris held his hand up and counted one, two, and three on his fingers. Ronnie raised his rifle as he turned the corner and fired, taking out the first three zombies with a single shot. Chris barely had time to react as the trio of undead slumped to the ground.
“Goddamn, dude!” he blurted out. The two remaining ghouls turned toward the men and began shuffling towards them. The zombie in front looked relatively fresh, but the other looked like he had been dead quite some time. The fresh undead crouched and growled at Chris as he took aim at its cranium. The zombie then broke into a near-dead sprint, heading straight towards Chris and Ronnie. Ronnie ratcheted the lever action rifle and fired just as Chris unloaded from his .45. Both of the zombies jerked and flailed as hot lead tore through them. Chris and Ronnie ceased firing, let the smoke settle, and waited for another sound of the undead. There was none. Chris grabbed Ronnie by the sleeve and pulled him towards the front of the house. Ronnie was still scanning the area for movement with his rifle. “C’mon dude, better get outta here before we advertise our position more’n we already have.”
“Yeah, gotcha.” Ronnie lowered his rifle and followed Chris’ lead. Both men walked cautiously to Ronnie’s truck and get the bag with the rest of the guns. Ronnie checked the cab of the truck and got Lori’s bag as well. He slung the bag over his shoulder.
“Alright, that’s all of it. Let’s get inside,” Ronnie said as he looked around. “Where’s Joe at?”
Chris took a long breath and sighed. His breath hung like a cloud in the air. “He hasn’t made it yet. Last Buffey heard he was stuck in Tazewell. He said that he got in an accident and got hurt.”
“Shit! Is he OK?”
“Far as I know, yeah he’s banged up a little but otherwise still up and around.”
“Damn. Well, shit. Any idea how long he said he would be?”
Chris climbed the steps to the front door and pulled it open. Ronnie pushed through the front door with the bags and set them down just inside the door. Chris closed the door behind him. He locked and placed the boards back on the pegs they had made in the event that they would need to go outside. Ronnie looked back at Chris for an explanation about Joe. Chris looked up as he placed the boards back on the door and woefully looked down. “I don’t know how long he will be. He gave me instructions through Buffey to get supplies ready for a few weeks. I don’t think it will take him that long to get here, but we got no way to contact him.”
Ronnie’s face grew somber. “Do you think he’s still alive?”
“Yeah. He’s alive. Zombies were his life, man. This would be like fuckin’ paradise for him.” Chris chuckled as he explained to Ronnie. “I think we should give him at least two or three more days before we start panicking. We got plenty to do us for a while, just gotta recalculate our food and...” Chris was interrupted by a painful groan coming from the back of the house.
Buffey came out of the main bedroom. Her face was panic-stricken. She was sweating and the color had gone from her face. “Lori’s contractions are less than a minute apart. She’s gonna deliver here any minute” Buffey began to cry. “What are we gonna do?” Chris and Ronnie turned to each other and exchanged a nervous look. Chris slowly turned back to Buffey. “I guess we are going to deliver your grandson.”
* * *
Joe woke early in the morning, still in the haze of sleep, before the worries of the day began to seep in. He had almost forgotten about the undead menace lurking outside until the moans of the dead had taken away his sleep-induced indifference. Joe quickly snapped awake and threw the covers off him. He looked down at his watch. It was 6:04 AM. His other companions had not yet waked. The fire that had been going most of the night was completely out, leaving only ashes in the fireplace. Joe snapped to his feet, grabbed his 9mm from its holster, and made his way to one of the windows at the front of the house. He crept under the window and cautiously moved the curtain aside. There was a single zombie milling about in the front yard of the residence that they had taken up for the night. The creature moved about aimlessly, sniffing the air. It was looking for the men, Joe had no doubt. He also had little doubt that if he made any noise that the creature would undoubtedly hear it and they would be in a world of hurt. The steady patter of rain would mask their scent and some of their noise. Joe ducked down from the window and moved the curtain back in place. He hunched down and steadily made his way over to Jamie, still asleep on a horrid-looking pale blue couch.
“Jamie! Wake up!” Joe hissed. Jamie snorted and mumbled something unintelligible.
“Dammit! Get up!” Joe demanded, a little louder this time and lightly punched Jamie on the shoulder.
“Mrgh, huh. What the hell?” Jamie bolted up from his slumber. He was still foggy from sleep, but could tell Joe was serious. Joe put his finger to his lips.
“Ssshh.” He pointed to the window. “We got a walker outside.”
“He got curious yet?” Jamie carefully peeled the covers back revealing his pale, overweight frame. He got up off the sofa.
“Damn! Dude when this is all over you have GOT to get some sun on that shit.”
“Ha ha asshole,” Jamie said sarcastically. “What is it doing?”
“Just wandering about aimlessly right now. I don’t think he knows we’re in here.” Joe motioned to his friend to come to the window that Joe had seen the zombie at. The two men made their way carefully to the window and peered out. The lone walker had shuffled a little farther away from the house. It was now near the end of the stone walkway near the mailbox, almost in the road. Donnie and Andrew now stirred from their sleep.
“What’s goin’ on?” Andrew spoke, way above the loud whisper that Jamie and Joe were using.
“SSSSHHH!” Both Jamie and Joe simultaneously silenced their friend. Andrew flinched and gave thumbs up. Joe turned back to Jamie.
“So what do we do with it? We shoot it and his buddies come after us if there is any out there.”
Joe backed away from the curtain and ducked below the window back to the couches. “I got the tomahawk. I will get my shit on, go outside, and take him out. Just keep me covered from upstairs. There was a window in one of the bedrooms I think” Joe frantically searched then went to the fireplace and put his pants back on. He forgot how much better having dry clothes on was. He threw his t-shirt on. Jamie did the same. Joe picked up the 7mm rifle that James had used and handed it to Jamie.
“Just keep me covered from up there. If you see any of em just take ‘em out. I’m not gonna run the risk of being trapped out there. If we attract more, well, too fuckin’ bad. Right?”
Joe bent down and began tying his boots when he noticed Jamie was not moving. Jamie clasped a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I think it will be fine until we leave” Joe looked up at his friend. “It’s just one.”
Joe looked at Jamie embarrassedly. “Sorry. I just want to get back out on the road.”
“I understand, just wait and we will get our shit together.” Jamie laid the rifle down and looked back to Joe. “Believe me, I understand.”
Joe slowed down tying the laces on his boots. He was getting a little overzealous for just one zombie, but he did want to get out of the house and back on the road. Donnie was awake now and slowly moving about. The men got dressed and made one last look around the house for anything of use. They rolled four of the blankets and lashed them to the underside of their packs with some duct tape they had found in the kitchen. They needed the blankets and putting them on the underside of the
ir packs ensured that they would get minimally wet, if at all. Joe brought down a boonie hat that he had found in the closet of the master bedroom. He felt naked without a hat and a boonie seemed appropriate. All four men put their packs on and headed towards the door. The fog outside on the top of the mountain made it difficult to see much past the mailbox at the end of the sidewalk. Joe looked down, took out the clip from his AR15, and checked his rounds. He had 18 rounds in the current magazine, with still several spares. The other men followed suit and checked weapons before going outside. Joe replaced the magazine and made sure there was a round chambered.
Joe stared back at his coworkers. “Ready?” Each man nodded in unison. Joe moved the spare couch out from in front of the large, wooden front door. He eased it open silently. As soon as he had it open, he raised his weapon at the lone walker that was still meandering at the end of the driveway. He fired a single shot and dropped the zombie. The other men came outside as well and stood silently. They waited for any sound that might indicate that they were not alone. They did not hear any. They waited for several more seconds before traipsing out and down the road. A little less tired and much more motivated, they were going to find a ride today.
CHAPTER 11
Sweat poured off Chris’ brow as he frantically searched about the house looking for all of the supplies that he would need to deliver the baby. The old adage of boiling water and ripping up sheets was fine for the movies and TV, but in reality was completely pointless. In the middle of the apocalypse, they would be lucky to have water period, let alone sterile, boiled water. He grabbed some clean sheets and a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the back bathroom. He made his way back to the main bedroom where Buffey was still consoling Lori. Ronnie came out from Rickey’s bedroom with extra pillows. They hurriedly took the supplies they had gathered to Lori and Buffey. Lori was still lying on her left side in immense pain. Her contractions were less than a minute apart now. She moaned and cried every time one would pass. Buffey knelt down at the side of the bed, wiping Lori’s forehead with a cool washcloth. Chris and Ronnie came in the room and handed Buffey the pillows and sheets they had. The men stepped back as Buffey situated Lori on the bed, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.
Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3 Page 12
