Winter's Salvation

by Deyo, Jason

  After trying each of the doors and windows the third floor door on the back balcony was open. This floor had a large vaulted ceiling with large windows that faced the beach. A large kitchen was opposite a large sliding glass window that led to a balcony with three large plastic reclining chairs. A master bed room with it’s own bathroom and a sliding glass window that attached to the large balcony. A huge TV over a fire place and three large grey and blue couches sat in a large entertainment area. The first thing Drew noticed was the X box 360 under the TV and a large assortment of games.

  This house would have been Eric’s and Naomi’s perfect get away if the situation were different. Now with stairs that led to each floor and multiple large windows this could be a death trap if a hoard of undead were coming in their direction, but this building was an older one and built to last. This house had sustained many hurricanes and the windows yet old, were sturdy with multiple pains. The back of the house butted up against a thick wooded area and only the tops of a few houses past the woods could be seen.

  After making a round of the house Eric and Drew secured each door and window. On the main floor Eric gazed into the woods from one of the bedrooms windows. Even though they didn’t have any contact with any undead here on the islands he just could not feel comfortable with the thick forest behind him. The entire time they secured the windows he avoided looking into the woods and now that the clouds were turning and covering the sun, the shadows of the tall trees played tricks on his mind. Growing up in the concrete jungle of Baltimore, Maryland, being surrounded by woods was not natural to him and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that there were no undead in the area, the snapping of a twig and the movement of a bush sent images of a gnarled zombie reaching out to grab him through the glass. With these images playing on his mind he quickly pushed the beds mattresses up against the window.

  The first and second floors were now pitch black, no sun entered the two bottom floors. Upon arriving on the third floor the rain was still maintaining a slight drizzle, so Eric had just enough time and felt secure enough that he sat out on the deck on one of the plastic chairs and enjoy the cool sea breeze as it brushed over his face. Eric focused on the sound of the rolling waves and tried to drown out the sound of the branches rubbing together and moving in the sea breeze and the thought of something crawling out of them.

  Just as he sat and got comfortable, a lone figure broke the plain of the beach, as the sun made its last fight to stay above the horizon and shine through the dark clouds. He watched as an undead vacationer shuffled over the sand. As it lumbered up the beach Eric could see the tattered loose clothing hanging from it’s flesh and it looked as if it’s skin was crawling. He leaned over the edge of the railing a little more than he should have just to examine this zombie. The skin of the ghoul was crawling with crabs. They hung from the chunks of loose rotting flesh trying to eat him as he made his way through the sand. The ghoul seemed not to care of the shell fish eating it and paid no mind as they whittled this vacationer away. As each wave crashed against it, it struggled to maintain its balance and more crabs seemed to grab hold of him with each wave of the sea. Eric knew that this zombie would surely disappear as the crustaceans ate this ghoul while it looked for it’s next meal.

  The night came faster than expected and the rain started to pick up. Eric called Drew and the girls out to see this site and the women wanted nothing of it. Drew on the other hand was just as fascinated as Eric was, but the night fell quickly and the rain fell faster and heavier, just as the undead vacationer was passing under the balcony. Neither one wanted to get soaked, so they fled for shelter back on the third floor. Naomi and Sam had taken the master bed room and closed the door, so the boys were forced to sleep on the couches.

  Eric drifted into a deep sleep listening to the rain beat on the beach house. He sat up quickly, as the southing sound of water tapping the windows turned into the sound of pounding feet running up the wooden steps. He listened quietly trying to determine whether the thudding feet were from the undead or an actual live human being. The steps were consistent and as they passed the second floor Eric made out a second set of footsteps. He immediately stood up and reached into his open back pack, instinctively grabbing hold of the black pistol.

  He ran past the couch Drew was sleeping on and slapped him on the head. “Wake the girls.” Eric whispered as he ran to the side door. He arrived at the door the same time the pounding feet did and the door knob began to turn and then stopped abruptly. Once the house was cleared Naomi went around every door and ensured they were locked. The door knob shook vigorously as the intruders wanted to get in.

  “Did you lock the door?” A voice from the other side asked. There was no response to the question, but Eric imagined a person shaking their head no. “Then some son of a bitch decided to make themselves comfortable in our house.” There was a short pause as the intruders thought about what they were going to do.

  Eric never thought of them as being the intruders. After the many houses they had stayed in, the thought of actually breaking into a person’s house had left them a long time ago. Never once had they been confronted about being in a vacant house and there was nothing in here to indicate this house was taken, but apparently they were now the intruders.

  “Are we going to break in?” The second voice asked.

  Eric turned to the bedroom as the outlines of Drew, Sam and Naomi made their way through the door frame engulfed by the deep darkness of the master bedroom.

  The first voice whispered in response, “Their probably sleeping.”

  Eric had no idea what they would do or who these people outside the door were, but he felt that these people were not the type to shake hands and except them into their home with open arms, so he decided to respond in his own way. He grabbed the slide and snapped it back. The sound of the pistol arming was louder than either of their pounding feet or their conversation and his response to the intruder’s statement was heard loud and clear through the door.

  The new intruders stood not moving and then one of them spoke a short reply, “Oh.” The sound of two sets of feet traveled down the stairs and were able to be heard making their way to the ground floor, but much lower and without the enthusiasm they had when they traveled up.

  Eric looked to the three in the door way and Naomi said quietly, “We leave at the break of dawn.”

  **********

  Eric and Naomi didn’t find sleep the rest of the night and were ready to leave hours before the sun rose. The following morning was cool, but the humidity from last night’s storm lingered over them. They picked up four beach bikes as they passed some of the beach water front houses and made their way away from the resort area. They peddled quickly to avoid last night’s visitors and within a few hours they were peddling into what Naomi believed to be Virginia Beach. Their food supplies were running low, but they began to feel confident that they would find something to eat, as they started heading into another resort town. They peddled to the back side of the beach houses and began to peddle up the sandy streets.

  The beach houses in this area were not as luxurious as the homes they stayed in at the outer banks and they were a lot closer. They passed a few undead that were sitting on the side of the road against a car or were in between houses just standing there rocking or walking away from them on the street. With every ghoul they passed a low moan would bellow out of them and alert the walking undead.

  The vast majority of the side streets were clear, but every once in a while they were forced to squeeze in between a parked car that was stopped in the middle of the road. It was when they slowed to swerve around a few parked cars in the middle of an intersection, Sam looked down the adjacent street and noticed a grocery store in a little strip mall. Hunger was beginning to communicate with them through their stomachs, so Sam made the suggestion they should stop.

  Cars were cluttered on the main roads that lined the outer edge of the strip mall, so they parked their bikes across the street a
nd planned to make their way to the supermarket on foot. As soon as they got off their bikes they heard a familiar sound they hadn’t heard in a long time. The sound of an engine from a large vehicle could be heard making its way down the street crashing into everything that was not secured to the concrete.

  Soon a red pickup truck was seen racing down the side walk and over the grassy medium. The large truck had three people seated in the front and four people riding in the back in the bed. The four in the back were holding on effortlessly and moved expertly with the rough rocking of the vehicle. Their heads were on a swivel watching and looking, through dark sunglasses, for any undead that they were ridding up on or have passed. They pulled to the front of the grocery store and all at once the four in the back jumped over the sides of the bed and ran into the store. The four that ran in were wearing all black clothing and exchanged their sunglasses for clear face shields, as the dark shadows of the store swallowed them. They had nothing in their hands, but each one had a weapon of some sort. Two had machetes hanging from their sides, one had what looked to be a small axe and the other had a baseball bat slung over his shoulder, by a looped piece of rope. As the four ran into the grocery store a heavier man on the passenger side jumped out and stood at the front door with a bat held in his hand. The driver stood by the driver’s side door and watched over the random parked cars in the parking lot. The one man that sat in the middle was shorter than the others and was very wiry, but what made this man stand out amongst the others was his long blond dread locks that hung over a dark tinted face shield. He pulled a large machete from a green scabbard attached to his hip and stood with the driver.

  The groaning of hungry undead echoed from the street they had just traveled down. Eric pushed the crew out of eye sight from the ghouls making their way down the street. Then undead began crawling from the parked vehicles and rounded the corners from the direction the red truck came from.

  Crouching down between two cars they watched these mysterious men. As the undead made their way through the parking lot four men came out of the supermarket with arms full of groceries. Cereals, boxed pastas, and canned goods were thrown into the back of the truck. The dread locked man scanned the parking lot then turned to them and screamed, “One more trip!”

  The parking lot was beginning to fill with lumbering undead and Eric didn’t like the amount that began to fill in between the cars. He felt that his escape routes were beginning to close.

  They watched the strange men as the zombies began making their way closer toward them. The man with the dread locks and the heavier one that stood watch at the door ran out to the closest ghoul that was to the left of the store. The heavier man stood in front of the undead that reached wildly for him. Its mouth opened and closed as if it were already eating his thick flesh. The smaller man ran wide around and behind the undead, taking the machete to the base of its neck. The ghoul dropped instantly and lay still. As soon as it collapsed both of the men ran to the next one that was making its way to the store. They repeated this same act again and again and with each undead that fell they moved on confident that it was not going to get up.

  Eric was amazed at the accuracy and confidence these men had, but was very upset that they would not be visiting this grocery store anytime soon. They were all hungry, but they could not risk running into a store that was quickly becoming over populated with undead. The four men ran from the store with another load of boxed and canned goods, tossed them into the bed of the truck and jumped in. The driver honked his horn and the large and dread locked man ran back to the truck and jumped into the front seat.

  Seeing their escape routes closing, Eric and the rest of his crew got up and began running up the street perpendicular to the one they were on. The heavier man was the last to enter the truck and he caught a glimpse of them running. Eric turned as the man hollered. “Come with us.” The four in the bed of the truck turned quickly and then the truck started to move slowly forward.

  Undead were starting to gather quickly around the strip mall and the truck would not be able to make it to them without battling a few obstacles. A series of cars divided them and between those cars lined scores of undead. Eric did not reply, but forced his crew up the street. The heavier man jumped into the passenger seat and the truck road away with no attempt to reach them. Eric did however hear one of the men holler as they drove away, “Keep traveling up the beach!” and then the message was drowned out by the groaning of undead that now turned their attention to them.

  The streets were full of movement now, so they decided to make their way back to the beach houses. The main street was crawling with the undead answering the calls of other ghouls. They ran down the beach front passing a few small duplex houses and ran up to the first one that they came across with the front door open. They barged in hoping no undead were able to actually make out what house they went into, and closed the door as quietly as possible.

  This house was unoccupied or at least it was vacant during last night’s storm. The reason they knew this is because the windows were left open and the couches under the windows were saturated with rain water. The carpet bubbled and pooled around their feet with each step as they walked over it. Eric made a quick inspection of the house and by the time he came back down the stairs he found Naomi, Drew and Samantha digging through the cabinets.

  There was enough food here to last them a few days. Most of it was junk food such as potato chips and little snack cakes, but it was something to fill the void in their stomachs.

  Chapter 13

  The Village

  They set out the next morning and agreed they would follow the beach up and continue to travel north. There were more undead on the beach now since yesterdays rendezvous, but the ghouls had a harder time traveling through the sand than they did. A few would get excited and try to trudge their way through it, but the most decomposed zombies no longer picked their legs up to give chase and wound up falling face first over the piles of sand they made from their shuffling feet.

  They traveled the soft sand beach for almost an hour before the strain of their legs became unbearable. They moved to the wet sand to alleviate the burn in their legs, but their shoes and socks started to become sodden with ocean water. Even though it would be a little more hazardous they came to the unanimous decision to travel the street just beyond the first set of beach houses.

  The further they walked on the streets the fewer undead began to emerge from the houses and buildings. Initially when they decided to walk on the main street the cars were packed tightly due to the haste to exit the vacation beach resort. The further north they traveled the vehicles began to become sporadic. Soon the vehicles began to become positioned in an organized manner. They looked as if someone had taken each car and purposely pushed it off to the side of the road. The vehicles were positioned with the trunks facing the road and were parked so close to each other nothing could squeeze between them. The houses and streets seemed to come to a halt and the clean paved street they were traveling on turned into an asphalt path that was unkempt. The street still existed, but no one would ever know it until they stood on the road itself.

  A vehicle has traveled this road on a routine bases due to the two distinct tracks made on the path and they all had the feeling it was the red truck they saw the day before. Random weeds grew up to Naomi’s waist from sand covered cracks, and the brush from the sides of the road reached into the middle of it, brushing all who traveled down it. No stores were built in front of them and to the left they could see a few old dark buildings off in the distance, but they seemed to die down as well the further they walked this old road. The path began to slowly turn away from the beach, but the sea wind continued to touch their cheeks.

  They traveled down the sandy road that changed to dirt, for what felt to be everlasting and it was beginning to turn to dusk, but they all felt at peace. They were all very comfortable and at ease, even Eric was relaxed being surrounded by tall grass and the unknowing of what lurked in it. Sam w
as the first to realize what it was that made her feel contented. “I can smell the ocean and the grass. It smells clean.” She was right. For the first time in months the lingering stench of rotting flesh did not assault their noses. At this point they all inhaled the fresh air.

  Even though they were all calm none of them wanted to stop on this road, so they continued to travel well into the night or possibly the morning until something over the grass caught their attention. A solid structure was up ahead and the moon shined on two larger wooden structures separated by a large fence.

  As they approached the chain link fence a lone figure stood guard on the opposite side. The guard held what looked to be some sort of assault rifle. It was one of the guns Sam believed she had seen some action hero in a war movie firing. If Eric had to guess it looked as if it was something like an m16. He raised the rifle to prepare himself. The moon was shining on their backs, revealing to the guard nothing but the silhouettes of four human shapes traveling down the road. As they approached Naomi suggested they should wave one of their hands over their heads to show they were living and not infected.

  He lowered the barrel of the gun low almost touching the dirt when they began to wave. The overweight guard wore a red and black flannel shirt with a beat up John Dear hat that sat loosely on his head. With his fingers intertwined in the fence, he recognized them as being human. “What do we have here? Ya’ll are a long way from home I bet?” Walking up to the fence the overweight hillbilly wiped something from his scraggily brown beard. Staring at Naomi in what could be mistaken as awe struck, “We don’t have any of your type here.” He paused thinking about how that may have come out and was content.