by Brown, TW
In seconds, everybody was on the porch. For just a moment, I felt crowded. The only time all of us were in one place—minus whoever was on watch of course—was usually dinner.
The chatter was a mix of concern and fear. I caught Jon’s gaze and motioned with my head for him to join me at the far end of the porch.
“You get the report from Jake and Jesus?” I asked as soon as we were apart from the cluster.
“Yeah.” Jon seemed distracted.
“So should we sit tight, or do you think we should send some of the group to the fall back position?” I asked.
Just outside of the small town of Joseph, Oregon we had a cache of supplies well hidden. In the event that we might need to abandon this place that we called home, we wanted to make sure that any who survived would have something to start over with. It seemed a bit fatalistic, but we had learned over the months that no place was safe from a zombie herd. Also, zombies might not be the only problem out there. Plenty of folks had taken advantage of the full-scale chaos.
“Umm…Steve?” Cheryl called down. “Maybe you should come up here and take a look.”
I hadn’t really gotten to know Doug or Cheryl that well, but she seemed like the level-headed sort. If she was rattled, I had to figure it was for good reason. I left Jon to organize things while I went to see what the matter was up in the crow’s nest.
As soon as I made it through the trap door, she was trying to shove the binoculars into my hand. That is never a good sign. Also, she had fair skin to begin with, but she was noticeably more pale than usual. I put the glasses to my eyes and focused my attention in the direction that she had indicated.
“You have got to be kidding.” That was all I could think to say.
From our location, you could not see the highway directly in front, but from the crow’s nest, you could see glimpses of it to the west as it crested a distant hill. That was one of the selling points for this location. Unless you knew where it was, you were not going to find it. We had removed the wooden National Forest Campground sign a while back. Finding us in this remote location would be like finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.
However, what I saw sent a shiver of dread up my spine. At the top of a radio tower I spotted the first one. The upsetting part was when he waved at me. I say he in the generic sense, with all the layers of clothing, goggles, and cap, it was impossible to tell. Now, a simple wave might seem like no big deal, but as I scanned the horizon, I found twelve more sets of eyes on us from various cell towers as well as what looked like a few platforms that had been constructed in some of the trees across the valley.
The only thing that had me confused was the big explosions. Then it struck me. That sound was the world’s loudest dinner bell. My hunch was confirmed before I was even down from the crow’s nest when three more explosions came one on top of the other. They were closer.
Whoever this was, they were bringing any zombie for miles down on us. I thought back to when we had to evacuate Serenity Base. There had been a firefight, and the people who had wiped out that location reportedly used zombies as shock troops. I didn’t recall any explosions, but I was running scared at the time. Also, we got out just ahead of the attack. There were plenty of big booms and gunfire. Maybe I just had not been paying attention.
When I reached the bottom of the ladder, Melissa was waiting. I didn’t have enough time to put up any sort of emotional expression filter. She saw it plain on my face.
“It’s that bad?” she whispered.
I looked over her shoulder at Thalia who was sitting in front of the fireplace with her Border collie, Buster. She was teaching the eager pup to hide her eyes to the delight of Misty who, on one of those rare occasions, did not notice that I was in the room. Anytime I came within visual range, that girl would clam up tighter than Fort Knox.
Watching from a few feet away were the two children that DeAngelo Cribbs and his wife had taken as their own: Rabia and Levent. These two had become our responsibility when a group of Muslim survivors arrived. A few had been bitten. For some reason, they thought it would be better to go out into the woods and die than take care of the ones who were still healthy. Yet, somebody in that group made the decision to leave the two children with us.
It’s been a crazy few months.
“I think so,” I finally answered Melissa. “And some of you will be leaving for the emergency fall back location in a little while.”
I could tell that Melissa wanted to say something in the form of a protest. But her hands went to her swelling belly where our child was growing and she kept her arguments—whatever they might have been—to herself.
“Everybody listen up!” Jon called as he came inside. “It looks like we have a serious band of raiders heading our way. I do not expect any sort of parlay with these folks. From all indications, these people don’t seem to be the talking type. Now, we are not just going to abandon what we have here. However, we will be sending some of you to the emergency shelter.”
“Steve, Nickie, DeAngelo, Fiona and Doug, you will be staying here,” Jesus stepped forward and read from a scrap of paper.
It seemed that Jon was assuming his role of our military leader. Thank God. I might be able to make some decisions, but this was so far outside of my element, I would not know where to begin.
“Jake will lead the rest to our fallback location,” Jesus continued.
“Perhaps Steve should change places with Brad,” Dr. Zahn offered. “As our appointed leader, I believe it would be best if he were to evacuate with the rest of us.”
“I understand your point, Doc,” Jon said with a curt nod. “However, he is a better shot and we need our best for this.”
“So is it my understanding that you intend on engaging these people?” Dr. Zahn was not finished. “From what I’ve heard and the very little that I’ve seen, it is a possibility that this is the same group that wiped out Serenity Base. No disrespect to you, sergeant, but Serenity had better firepower and equally competent soldiers.”
“And if we were going to stand our ground, you would be absolutely correct,” Jon agreed. “However, that is not my plan.”
I could tell that Dr. Zahn wanted to continue this little debate, but she was also smart enough to know how precious time was at this very moment. She shot me a look that I couldn’t decipher and went to her little closet/office, presumably to grab essentials.
Melissa and Thalia clung to me for a moment. I did my best to say all those things that you have no power to actually fulfill. Things like “I’ll be fine” and “I will see you just as soon as this is over” sounded hollow in my ears, but seemed to have the desired effect on them.
“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” Jake whispered in my ear before heading in back to hasten everybody along.
I wanted to believe that probably as much as Melissa and Thalia wanted to believe the promises I’d just made to them. I’m not a big believer in premonition, but I thought I was seeing them for the last time as they headed out the back. My last image was Thalia skipping after Melissa with Buster on her leash like this was all a normal part of everyday life.
I know I have said it before, but I marvel at the ability of children to push through something terrible and retain the capacity to smile and laugh. Smiles and laughter were a rare sight on the faces of the adults. Of course, days like this were the perfect example as to why that tended to be the case.
Ten minutes later, it was just the seven of us. Jon had put us each to work on a different part of his plan. We would surrender the building, but it would come at a cost. I wondered how many sets of eyes were watching. Of course the group had left out the back and gone down the hill to the woods. Unless they actually had people in the trees around our perimeter, it was unlikely that they saw the departure of Jake and the others.
Once we finished up inside, we slipped out the back as well. I was sent up the trail that I’d taken the day I proposed to Melissa. There were a couple of spots along the way up that gave me a
perfect view into Death Alley. If they tried to bring a vehicle in from that direction, they were screwed.
Jon accompanied me part way. He would be vanishing into the actual campground area. Dressed in white like he was, I imagine that he had some nasty surprises in store for these latest intruders into our happy little home.
“You understand why we have to at least try and defend our position,” Jon finally spoke.
Honestly, I didn’t. After all, we had a fall back location for a reason, right? Still, instead of seeming stupid or cowardly, I shrugged.
“If we just run and don’t at least put up the semblance of a fight, we mark ourselves as easy pickings,” Jon said.
“And who is gonna get that memo?” I quipped before I could catch myself.
“I’ve been out there, Steve. It has gotten tribal. I imagine there are at least a half-dozen factions within a ten mile radius of us. These groups of raiders are probably establishing a pecking order. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had cordoned off the area and claimed jurisdiction.”
“So this is to show we aren’t pushovers?” I wasn’t seeing the logic. As far as I was concerned, we could just find another place.
“Partially,” Jon confirmed. “My hope is that the word will get out that we aren’t to be screwed with. Otherwise, we will have to start over. Do you really want to do this again? We just got things settled in, and now we just give it up?”
“I guess I see what you are saying.” Actually, I was still a bit confused. It wasn’t like we were running into a lot of survivors. More like little trickles here and there.
“Consider Nickie and Christina…or Doug and Cheryl,” Jon said. “They were with other groups before us. Things went bad and they ended up with us. I believe that there are more people like them out there.”
“So?” I still wasn’t seeing his point, but I could tell he was trying to make one.
“Patton and his group were a bust, but if he hadn’t killed the ones who were coming back around, maybe they join us. The reality is that we need numbers. That is one of the things that I have been watching out for when I make supply runs.”
“We had numbers at Serenity,” I countered. “That didn’t do us much good.”
“No disrespect, but Serenity was run poorly. The guys in charge were good men, but they were trying to simply secure a location. They were concerned with zombies, but they did not take the living into consideration. We can’t make that same mistake,” Jon insisted.
“So what…we build an army?”
“In a way,” Jon said with a nod. “We have to be prepared for ALL eventualities. The zombies are just a part of the problem.”
“So what…are you saying it is like The Road Warrior out there?” I tried unsuccessfully to keep the chuckle out of my voice.
“Steve, I don’t want to be a dick, but it is worse. You have had to stay in camp because of your leg. That little trip that we took with Dr. Zahn was nothing.”
Nothing? He got bitten by a freaking zombie-wolf! We found a camp where people stew was simmering in a barrel. How the heck was that nothing?
“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but you have had it kind of easy the past several weeks. Now that you are obviously doing better, maybe you should come on a run with me,” Jon said. I could tell that he was really trying not to come off as a jerk. I also realized that he was right.
I had been pretty much shackled to the homefront since busting my leg. That last run did not involve us doing any actual searching for anything. We knew where we were headed, and it still had a few hairy moments.
“We can talk about this after,” Jon said with a pat on my shoulder.
He certainly had given me some food for thought. I was mulling over the past few months when the first flash of movement down below caught my eye.
I have no idea where they had found one, but one of the biggest steamrollers that I had ever seen was rolling into view through the trees. It was too wide for Death Alley, but the driver already had that figured out and veered to the left and out into the giant field that used to hold a pair of baseball/softball diamonds. Right behind it, like rats following the Pied Piper were several hundred zombies. Of course they were currently fixated on the steamroller, and would have almost no chance of making it up to the cabin due to the several feet of snow on the ground, but they would have no problem once that steamroller found one of our hand-dug trails.
These guys knew what they were doing. What’s more, they had a fairly good idea of our set up. How long had they been scouting us? What could we have done to prevent it? I was so certain that we had found a safe place out here in this frozen landscape. Who would take the trouble?
My answer was below. The steamroller had found the first trail. From here, I could see the driver start to zig and zag. He was going to use the deep snow to vanish from the zombies’ field of vision…or whatever they had.
I watched as the steamroller eventually doubled back and vanished through the trees. From my position, I could see dark shapes spreading out to various paths. Every single one of those paths would eventually empty out into the parking lot area in front of the cabin. Our home.
It was about twenty minutes later when I spotted the first of the living invaders. Actually, it was an even dozen. The group came out in the same spot where the steamroller had vanished. They were heading right for Death Alley.
Half of them went up on to one berm, the rest on the other. They were about three-quarters of the way to the other end when a single shot rang out. The person leading the group along the left berm—the one closest to the picnic grounds and farthest from the playing fields—staggered and fell.
The remaining eleven froze for a second, but then quickly recovered and dove over either side of the berms. Once again, my position was an advantage. And now it was my turn to take part. I looked through the scope of my .30-06 and took a deep breath.
Ammunition had become a precious commodity as of late. We were deep into the reserves of that very finite resource, but if not now…when? I sighted on one of the figures that had slid down the berm and was now crouched just below the lip. I could tell that they were calling out to each other, but even with as quiet as the world had become, they weren’t loud enough for me to hear anything.
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly and squeezed. A spray of red splashed the snow signaling my hit. Four others had slipped down into the alley, and they were my responsibility. I could tell that they were frantic and looking around in an attempt to locate where the shots were coming from. One of them was even pointing in my general direction.
I sighted in on my second target. The problem was that, for some strange reason, my hands had started to tremble. This had my target bouncing around in the scope like a jumping bean. I closed my eyes for a second and tried to gather myself. I had a job to do. Still, I guess I just have not reached the point where I have no problems killing another human being.
Take all of the stuff about them “taking what is ours” and all that talk about how we have to show we are not to be messed with and this is homicide. Sure, I am defending what is mine, and I am trying to ensure the protection of my friends and family…but this is not a movie. People just do not kill other people without at least some struggle with conscience unless they are sociopathic. I lived a much greater portion of my life where law and order were in place. To just shed that does not come easy…or without a price.
I opened my eyes again and had to reacquire the four individuals moving in the alley. I heard another series of shots and tried to get a fix on it as I zoomed in on the person whose life I was about to take. I put the crosshairs on the center mass of the torso and fired. The person fell back like they’d just taken a monster punch on the chin.
I felt my stomach clench as long blonde hair spilled out from the hooded jacket. I could not make my body listen as I ordered my hands to move so that my scope would not linger on that face, but it was too late. I watched the final dying moments o
f a girl that could not have been much older than Teresa as blood frothed from her mouth leaving a bright red smear on her chin.
“Just do your job or that could be Melissa…Thalia…” I snarled, trying with almost no success to pump myself up to take three more human lives.
I lined up my next shot. I could tell that the three remaining raiders were frantic. They were in a really bad spot. One of them had scrambled up the berm only to be picked off by one of my friends. I was pretty sure that Jon had told me who was where, but for some reason that information had simply deleted itself from my brain.
That left two. I found myself wondering what exactly was going through their minds at this moment. I mean, they had obviously planned this attack. They had scouted our location and decided that we were a viable target.
Were they cursing the person who had given them this task? As a person who has seen his share of plans go sideways in a hurry, were they lamenting the plan, or just the execution? This is how I distracted my brain from the business of killing two more living souls.
The last person was the hardest. He or she obviously knew that it was over and that death was coming in a steel jacket. The person tried the last ditch attempt at survival by throwing his or her hands up in the air. By now, the location of their executioner was obvious. The person turned in my general direction and dropped to his knees (I am using the thought that this is a “he” to provide even the slightest degree of comfort) with hands up in the universal sign of surrender.
For the first time, I noticed that there was actually a considerable amount of gunfire happening. I know that I had heard a shot here or there, but this was a firefight. Somehow, I had blocked all of it out as I focused on my task and my targets. Now that it was just this one, my tunnel vision—and apparently tunnel hearing—was opening up to include more of what was going on around me.
I pulled the trigger.
The person fell over onto their back at an awkward angle and lay still. I pulled my eye from the scope, refusing to linger a second longer on the pattern of red that had created an obscene halo around the body of my latest victim.
