Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary
Page 23
“True,” I admitted. “Keep an eye out for me then. I’ll try to be fast.”
* * *
It was on the twenty fifth day of the ongoing zombie apocalypse that I finally found the spot I’d been looking for. It was perfect, absolutely, sweetly perfect. Not as perfect as Briana’s breasts – probably shouldn’t have written that – but that is only a straight forward statement of absolute reality. The place was nearly a half mile off a service road, deep within the forest and well away from the highway. To reach it you had to drive over a long twisting meadow. After it curved around a wooded hill that hid the place from view, this field expanded. In the back there was a fast moving creek and probably an easy to reach water table if digging wells. There was also a second, smaller rise that looked high enough to never flood.
My intention was to build on that elevated spot and use the meadow to keep animals and plant crops. I was certain we could easily obtain horses and cows and sheep and whatever else from nearby farms. The zombies didn’t bother them, and most farm animals could survive on their own, at least if they were in a pasture or managed to get loose. Might be hard to find living chickens however. Most of those would be in coops and have likely run out of food and water by now. That was something to move forward on. I, for one, wanted fresh eggs.
“What do you all think?” I asked.
“I’m not going to give an opinion,” said Miranda. She was standing beside Mary with one hand on the teenager’s arm. “I can’t really see that well.”
“Very funny,” said Lizzy. “I’m laughing over here. Hah hah.”
“But is it nice?” she asked.
“It really is,” confirmed Briana.
“We have more than enough room to build a wall and put houses inside,” I said. “There’s a creek by the trees. In front is a huge open area where we can plant corn or whatever and have horses and other animals. This is a good place to settle in, much better than the campsite the church group’s been using.”
“It is better than the lake camp,” admitted Timothy. “What do you think?”
Susan nodded. “Only, the cars can’t get here, just the trucks. Well, maybe. It’d be hard in a normal car.”
“And Jeeps,” I added. “Those are best you can get.”
“We know you like your Jeep,” said Briana. She reached up to pat the top of my head. “Now, stop talking about it.”
Mary began to snicker.
“Why don’t we fan out and look more carefully,” suggested Lois. “Make sure it’s as good as it looks before we start work.”
“Makes sense,” replied Lizzy.
“You up for a walk Miranda?”
“Sure Mary, but don’t let me step in any holes and keep me kinda near the cars in case we need to get back fast.”
“They’re not cars Miranda,” I said. “They’re…”
Briana slapped my shoulder hard. “Jacob! Didn’t I say no more talking about Jeeps?”
“Point taken.” I sighed.
There was more giggling from Mary.
“Take your radios,” I ordered, trying to ignore her, “and call in if anything happens. Susan, Timothy, remember, zombies are slow. You can outrun them easy, so don’t panic if you see one. Just call me and Lizzy. They can be taken care of. If worse comes to worse, come back here and lock yourself inside your pickup and drive off.”
* * *
“Come on Jacob.”
I followed Briana toward the creek. Lizzy and Lois were checking the area to our right. Susan and Timothy had gone to the left. They were moving slowly and with more caution than anyone else. Cherie had chosen to remain in the central area with Mary and Miranda.
“You think this really is the place for us?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She leaned up against me. “Good. We need a home. By that, I mean you and me, Jacob and Briana. No, Briana and Jacob. My name should always come first.”
I put an arm around her narrow waist. “I think we’re pretty much a matched set.”
That was true. After the night in the park ranger’s house, I’d decided that we were meant to be. Did I love her? Well, that’s a bit more complicated. I certainly thought we were compatible. Under normal circumstances nothing would have happened. Really, Briana was seventeen. I’m thirty six, twice her age plus two – can’t forget that – but with the zombie plague and the end of the world, such things seemed a whole lot less important. We were both intelligent, so conversations were never dull. We were attracted to each other. She was gorgeous, so that was never a problem. I’m a bit unsure as to what she sees in me, but I’m not inclined to question the matter.
But anything long term requires love, real love, or a whole lot of willpower and determination which I lacked, so I guess the complicated love factor needs to be addressed. So, was I in love? No doubt about attraction, as I’ve already stated. That had always been there. Same for fondness and friendship. I liked Briana from the start. Infatuation, that definitely existed, even before I got to see her in lacy red underwear, then minus the bra. Quite spectacular. I’m old enough to know that infatuation fades, most often without ever turning to something better. If that was the case, this entire matter would end badly. Yet, I didn’t think it would, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt what I was feeling really was love.
I had known Briana for less than a month. That’s not very long. However, we’d been together the entire time, and with the exception of using the toilet, or more often going behind a tree, it really was 24/7. Compared to normal people dating or hanging out, we were probably in the five or six month range. That made me feel better.
“I think we need to spend the night in a house. Maybe the one we checked this morning, with the green trim. It’s nearby, and we have to pass down the road again anyway.”
“Funny how we found this spot near the very end of our search,” I said.
“Absolutely no changing the subject.”
“Not that,” I replied, with a smile and a squeeze from the arm still wrapped about her. “Just an observation. The house is fine. The others will be happy too. Susan and Timothy really complained about sleeping in their truck last night.”
“Big babies, both of them.” She pulled on her hair briefly. “But nice overall.”
“Now who’s changing the subject?”
“I would slap you, but then I’d have to pull away, and I rather like you holding me.”
“I enjoy it too.” She did feel good pressed up against me. The smell not so much. We both needed a bath, but we’d take care of that before going to bed. “And I have no problem doing it for a long, long time.”
She stiffened slightly, and I realized my mistake.
“I didn’t mean what you’re thinking,” I said quickly. “I was thinking about times like now, not the holding at night to keep the dreams away or to just feel safe.”
Briana nodded. “You know I’m a good girl. I mean... Well, you don’t really, but I’m a… you know.” She started to blush.
“No need to be getting embarrassed. I haven’t even been on a date in years, four or five I think. That’s far more tragic and if publicly known could be the source of much mocking.” I paused. “Don’t tell Lizzy.”
“I won’t. You really haven’t been out in years? Not even to dinner?”
I shook my head. “Nope, mostly out of laziness and a desire to avoid nutty women. I’d had some bad experiences before my self-imposed boycott.”
“My mom didn’t go out much either. She did at first, after my dad left, but then she got tired of the games and mostly stopped.”
“It doesn’t get any easier with age.”
She ran a hand across my chest. “You are old, but in tolerably decent shape.”
That was only a little distressing.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve decided you’re the one I want to be with, forever.” Briana looked up at my eyes, gauging my reaction. It was apparently favorable since she smiled broadly. “So tonight will have more than you ju
st holding me tight, and running your hands over some personal places.”
“Couldn’t help myself. Sorry about that.”
I know I didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, nor had she protested in any way.
“But since you were naughty, you have to give me a massage first, longer than the last one.”
“Am I going to get one in return?”
“I promise to return the favor, but it’s not one I’m likely to keep.” She laughed.
“How about a kiss before we actually start looking around like we’re supposed to be?”
Briana stood up on her toes. A second later the radio came alive.
“We can see you,” announced Lizzy.
“Not me,” said Miranda, “but Cherie and Mary have been giving me a very detailed description. When are you going to get to the good parts?”
“We weren’t watching,” said Susan. “Timothy and I were respecting your privacy.”
Briana and I heard Timothy say “liar” in the background. The microphones on the radios had certainly been manufactured with quality in mind.
“Stop turning red sweetie. We’ll get a lot worse ribbing over dinner. Lizzy will have plenty of time to think up all sorts of comments, and I’m sure Mary will add her own.”
“Are we really that cheesy or…” She trailed off. “I don’t even know the word.”
I shrugged. “Can’t say. I’m pretty sure our conversations could come right out of a cheap paperback.”
She laughed, but looking back on it, I think I was correct. Neither of us were especially good at the romance talk. We tried, but the words never came out quite the way we hoped. We knew what we meant however, and that’s the important thing.
“Feel free to tease Lizzy right back. I wouldn’t comment about her relationship with Lois though. She’s still uneasy about being out of the closet.”
“Lois is a darling,” agreed Briana, “but Lizzy is always good to make fun of, and she plays right back.”
She hesitated.
“What is it?”
“I, well, would you consider maybe having Pastor Wills making things, you know, official? Not right now, since he’s not here and all, but when we get settled and have a free moment.”
This was something I had not, in any sense of the word and then some, expected. The thought had not even occurred to me.
“Official as in marriage?” I asked, seeking clarification.
She blushed again and squeezed my hand. It was a lot to ask, and Briana knew it. This was rushing things on an epic scale. Of course, we could also be zombie chow tomorrow. Live for the moment seemed more applicable than at any other time in my life.
“We’ll talk to him.”
Briana let out a shriek and leapt into my arms. I was not at all prepared for that – I seem to be very unprepared when it comes to matters relating to ordinary human interaction – and I went tumbling back, only to have her land on my chest. It sounds charming, romantic. Briana is five foot seven, and while she is slender, there’s also a good bit of muscle on her. In short, the love of my life was not the lightest gal around.
“Sorry,” she said, when I let out a gasp.
“No problem. You didn’t break any ribs. Bruised a few, maybe. Knocked a bit of air out of me too.”
“Oh, want me to get off?”
“Not just yet.”
The radio came to life a second time with Lizzy again leading the comments.
Interlude – Miranda’s Story
Miranda arrived at the Nebraska National Forest the day before it all began. Her home was in Washington, on the outskirts of Seattle where she lived with her parents. They had been traveling to Florida to see her father’s ninety seven year old grandmother. The woman was suffering from severe senility and had no clue whom Miranda, or anyone else, was. Miranda had steadfastly refused to accompany them, finding such visits extremely distressing, so she’d been handed off to her aunt for a couple of weeks instead.
Blind since early childhood, Miranda remained with her parents for reasons of convenience and safety, but although only twenty two years old, she was financially independent. Miranda worked freelance, creating audio books and performing dictations of other documents. Her voice was crystal clear and lacked any obvious regional accent. She was able to read Braille with no difficulty, and many of her productions were intended to accompany books in that format as a supplement or learning aid. She also possessed excellent memory and could recite several paragraphs flawlessly after hearing them a single time. Miranda tended to forget the material after an hour or so, but this talent was extremely beneficial considering her line of work.
Normally, Miranda would have remained home while her parents were gone, but her seeing eye dog, a golden retriever named Rover – she selected the name specifically because it was outdated – had passed on shortly before. Without him, she found the house a tad too lonely and getting around outside difficult. Additionally, Miranda liked her aunt. They’d always gotten along, and an extended visit would be pleasant.
Miranda’s Aunt Betty had a home within the national forest where she was spending a few years undertaking federally funded research. As a botanist, she spent most her time hiking about counting plants and performing soil tests, and the woman was more than happy for some company.
“It’s so good to see you.”
“You too Aunt Betty.” Miranda never called her Bethany, nor had she heard anyone else use the name, other than her mother, and that was only when she was irritated or angry. “It should be fun.”
“We’ll definitely enjoy ourselves, but let me show you around first. The place isn’t large so you should have it figured out pretty fast, and there isn’t all that much furniture to walk into. I already packed up my boxes and notes and moved most to the shed. You know how I sometimes leave things lying about.”
Miranda nodded. She once fell down the stairs at her aunt’s old house because the woman had dropped a stack of binders on the floor in the upstairs hallway planning on putting them away later. Miranda had been twelve at the time. It was also one of the infrequent occasions when her mother had used the name Bethany while shouting, very loudly, at her for being so careless. Since then, Aunt Betty had been superbly diligent in making certain the house was as prepared as possible before Miranda came over.
“Only two doors going outside.” Taking Miranda’s hand, she set it on the door knob. “Front one is here. The living room is behind you. The steps going upstairs are to your left. There’s the kitchen and a small study off the living room. I’ll show you. Oh, and the fireplace too. It has a raised stone base. I’ve tripped on it a few times so don’t forget about that.”
She guided Miranda around the room showing her the furniture and doorways. It was a simple enough layout, and after a few minutes the young woman had no trouble navigating.
“What about the kitchen?” she asked.
“Back door is there, same as the front.”
The kitchen tour was even shorter.
“On the second shelf of the fridge I have two big Tupperwares. The square one is strawberries. The round one has blueberries.”
Miranda nodded. She did love her berries and ate far more than her share, but, as her mom always said, they were a lot better for you than cookies. And cookies had been hard to keep around. Rover tried to steal them every chance he got. The dog had a sweet tooth and tended to neglect his manners and training if he thought he could snatch a treat when no one was looking. She missed him.
“There’s a small bathroom downstairs” continued her aunt. “It’s off the den, just a toilet and sink. The proper one is upstairs, along with the two bedrooms.”
After showing her these, and giving her a shelf in the small cabinet for her personal items, Aunt Betty let Miranda plop herself down on the sofa. It was late, and both were tired.
“I’ll take you about the yard tomorrow, and I’ll introduce you to my neighbors. Got a park ranger living next door. There isn’t much to worry ab
out. No fences or raised flower beds, no trees immediately by either house.”
“That’s good. I don’t think I’ll be going out into the woods without you. I would if Rover were still around, but you know.”
“You’re getting a new dog soon.” Her aunt took off her boots and set both feet on the coffee table, placing the footwear underneath so it was out of the way. “Your mom said after this visit, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right. I could’ve had one sooner, but I didn’t want to until we were all back. It can be disorienting for the dog if the first few months aren’t spent in the home.”
“Well, I have no problem guiding you. Nothing too bad out here for you to worry about either. Worst that’s likely to happen is for some malicious squirrel to be tossing nuts at you.”
The remainder of the evening was spent catching up, telling stories, and otherwise chatting. Aunt Betty was a bit dismayed to learn Miranda still lacked a boyfriend – this was coming from a die hard, obsessive romantic who never dated because it interfered with work – and wasn’t all that worried about it either. Miranda kept up with her friends on a regular basis and did some volunteer work with those recently blinded by accidents or injuries, mostly soldiers, so she certainly had a social life. And the young woman was quite content with that state of affairs, at least for the time being.
* * *
Miranda woke early the next morning, following a restless sleep. The bed was comfortable enough, but the lack of familiar sounds, namely traffic, was a bit disconcerting. Having an owl hooting outside the window in the middle of the night hadn’t helped either. Still, she forced herself up and walked to the bathroom, one hand on the wall and a toe carefully tapping the floor in front of her. The staircase was a whopping three and a half feet from the bathroom door, and Miranda didn’t fancy taking a tumble. Aside from it hurting, her aunt would probably have a heart attack if that happened again.
She brushed her teeth, showered, and washed her long hair, leaving it to air dry as was her norm. After dressing in jeans and a blouse of whatever color – her mother had packed for her so everything matched no matter the combination – Miranda made her way downstairs. She’d heard her aunt moving about and could now smell breakfast cooking.