by R. J. Spears
“Or someone,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Greg asked.
“Billings was looking for Jason or people like Jason. Maybe they think more people like him are here and are trying to find them. Why else would they be spying on groups of survivors?”
“That could be one answer,” Greg said, not fully convinced.
We mulled over the possibilities, but to me, it always seemed to come back to my hypothesis. After we exhausted the possibilities, just to be safe, we decided to store the phones off-site at a farmhouse just about a quarter mile away. Having them in our midst was like having a bomb around.
Chapter 32
The Farm
Some might think it would be challenging to be giddy during the zombie apocalypse, but if there were a word to describe how I felt, giddy would be the one that best fit my mood those next few days. Not even the killjoys who wanted Jason thrown out of The Manor could have dampened my feelings following that night in the infirmary.
For obvious reasons, Kara and I decided to keep our relationship covert. That is if we could call it a relationship. Whatever it was, I liked it, but I’m not sure that others would. Brother Ed and Mrs. Hatcher didn’t need any more fodder as they whipped their followers into a frenzy any chance they could get. They had segregated themselves from the main group and moved into one of the other buildings to remain uncorrupted by those less pure in thought and deed.
Somehow, our clandestine meet-ups made our time together more precious and even a little dangerous. They were few and far between since I spent my evenings in the infirmary with Jason, and she spent her time with the girls, three floors above me each night. My days were spent on our new mission, foraging for farming and planting supplies.
The days marched by as winter finally lost its hold us and spring started winning its war over the weather. The temperatures started to climb, and any traces of the winter snow melted away, but there were still some bitterly cold days.
Over time, spirits lifted as life went back to normal with only minor eruptions from Brother Ed and his crew. Well, as normal as it can be in the apocalypse.
Hub led the master plan to obtain farming equipment to plant our own sustainable supply of food since we knew that sooner or later, nearby food supplies would run out. This meant combing the neighboring farms and getting seeds and planting equipment. I didn’t know the first thing about farming or raising plants. Large-scale agriculture seemed a mystery to me. In fact, my mom used to say I had the brown thumb. My ability to raise anything green was so bad that I killed the lone cactus she bought me when I moved into my first apartment.
Unlike in the city, where we almost always encountered zombies in great numbers, our encounters with the undead out in the country were much less frequent. There were always less zombies when we did run into them. Not to say life was a breeze because we still had some dangerous encounters with the dead, but things had fallen into a routine — see a zombie; shoot a zombie. That was until our visit to a large farm about fifteen miles west of our location. Travis had spotted it on a foraging mission the day before and felt it might be a jackpot in terms of agricultural goodies.
The farm was a large corn and soybean operation with a swine confinement facility. At least that’s how Travis and Hub described it. They could have been raising cotton candy for all I knew. Hub explained to me in very simple terms that the farmers grew corn and raised pigs. The hogs were long gone, and the fields were overgrown with weeds, but the barn was a treasure trove of farm equipment and seed.
“Take a look at this,” Hub said as he inventoried the bags of seed. He was bursting with excitement, which was out of character for him. I expected him to dance a jig, he was so excited.
We were in a large barn with two over-sized farm tractors and a bunch of other farming equipment and tools that looked like implements of torture. The barn was a large modern, cavernous structure with the walls made of sheet metal, but painted white and red like an old-fashioned one. We had brought two teams because of the cornucopia of supplies we’d need to bring back. Travis led one team, which consisted of Hub, Jo, and Devin. Devin had been pressed into service because Brandon was still woozy from his concussion, and Aaron had yet to be freed from his crutches. I led the other one with Kara and Steve Hampton. This was Hampton’s first off-site mission, and he was as jumpy as a mouse at a cat convention.
In a display of my ignorance of all things green and growing, I asked, “How long does seed last? Is this stuff still any good?”
“Seed like this is good for four years, maybe even longer,” Hub said. “Yessiree, we’ve hit the mother lode. If we can get this in the ground soon, we’ll have knee high corn by July.” His happiness was contagious as we broke into smiles. We had had nothing but canned vegetables for the past year. Something fresh would be nice for a change.
Travis moved in beside Hub and marveled at our good fortune. “What do you think, Pops; do you think we’re set?”
“Nothing’s ever certain with farming, but this is a good start,” Hub replied.
Travis reached into his pocket, turned, and threw the SUV keys to Devin who looked a little surprised, but caught them. “Bring the truck in here,” Travis said. “We’ll start loading.” He turned back to the bags of seed. “We might have to make two trips.”
Someone opened the large barn doors, and the cold snap that had struck two days ago made its presence known as a biting wind swept into the barn. The place wasn’t warm by any stretch of the imagination, and the wind cut through my coat like daggers of ice.
Devin slowly backed the SUV into the barn and edged up to the bags of seed.
Travis slapped me on the back and said, “Not cold are you?”
“No, not at all,” I said, my teeth nearly chattering. It was then I wondered why we didn’t move south. Like maybe to the Florida Keys.
“Come on, boys, let’s get this stuff loaded up,” Travis said, and our crew went to work loading the seed into the back of the SUV.
Hub moved forward, but Travis held up a hand, “We got this, Pop.”
Hub looked a little disgruntled but let it go. “I’ll see what else they have around here.”
“Don’t go too far,” Travis said.
“I’ve been on this Earth a lot longer than you, son,” Hub said. “I know how to take care of myself.” He walked across the barn and out the door.
“I’ll go with him,” Kara said.
Travis said, “Thanks.”
I wanted to go with her but thought better of it. We weren’t public with our relationship, if that’s what it was. I really didn’t need a definition as long as we were still having our late night rendezvous.
It took moving only a few bags of seed for my body to build up a little heat to ward off the cold. This was easy work with all the people we had on hand. Steve Hampton moved in the other truck, and we started filling the bed with the bags of seed, one after the other. We were just about to load in the last few bags when we heard the first shot of Kara’s rifle. I’d know the report of that gun anywhere.
I dropped the bag I was carrying, picked up my rifle, and headed for the barn doors at a dead run. Travis was hot on my heels. I saw Jo out of the periphery of my vision going to the other truck to get her rifle. Devin and Steve Hampton were less immediate with their response.
Just before I got out the door, I heard two more shots. When I got outside, I spun around to find the source when I heard a muffled report of several more shots. Kara knelt down on one knee and was shooting at the front of the building that Hub had said was a swine barn. She was just over fifty yards away, and the sound of her rifle was sharp and clear. That meant that muffled shots had come from inside the building which meant that Hub was probably still inside.
The front of the building faced us and consisted of a wall of corrugated metal with two sets of large barred windows. An entrance door set dead center between the windows. The center door stood wide open, and zombies were streaming out of it. Arms
and faces pushed against the bars in the two large windows as the zombies tried futilely to push themselves between the bars. They moaned in frustration as they struggled to get free, but it just wasn’t happening for them.
Kara fired on the ones coming out the door, and she took one down with each shot, but they came out faster than she could shoot. It was only a matter of time before they got to her, and I couldn’t let that happen. Before I could move, Travis shot past me, running full out towards the building. I fell in behind him and pulled out my pistol and fired into the mob coming out the door. My shots had no accuracy with only a few hitting home, but they slowed down a few of them as two of them went down, taking a small pile of them to the ground. It was just enough to slow them down and to keep them from swarming over Kara.
Travis settled in next to Kara and started firing with his rifle, and I came up beside him and began firing at the zombies. Travis shouted, “Where’s my dad?”
“A nest of them was at the back of the building. They came at us before we saw them,” Kara yelled.
“Where is my dad?” Travis asked.
A series of muffled shots sounded from inside the building.
“He’s still inside,” she said.
Travis pulled down his rifle and started forward, but Kara grabbed Travis’ coat and pulled him back. “You can’t go in there,” she said.
“It’s my dad. I have to,” he said, his voice strained.
“Let’s do it together then,” I said. “We’ll move forward and concentrate our fire on the ones coming out the door. Kara arc around us to cover our approach from the side.”
We moved forward slowly, firing as we went, our bullets tearing into the mob and shredding it. Blood, bone, and flesh flew into the air, painting the side of the building. It was messy work, but Travis did it desperately and without remorse. Anyone we missed, Kara took care of from her position off to our left.
More shots came from inside the building, and that was a good sign. Hub was still in a position to defend himself.
We made great progress initially, but I began to see a big problem looming since there was a logjam of bodies piling up just outside the door. I wasn’t sure how we were going to get over them, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.
I fired into the mob until I had to stop to reload. A sense that we were running out of time tugged at me.
Zombies clutched at the air in front of me, stretching their arms out from behind the bars. Travis moved forward firing into the mass. At this proximity, I could hear the bullets hitting the zombies’ skulls and the bone cracking. They didn’t cry out as they died, but I heard the slightest exhalations of air, like someone depressing a partially deflated bag and then they were gone forever.
Still, they came, relentlessly and without a moment’s pause for their fallen undead comrades. It was their way: cold and without any other thought other than getting their hands and teeth into us to quench that unquenchable hunger that would continue to the end of time — either theirs or ours.
The scrum of undead began to thin, and Travis surged forward, his rifle running empty. He didn’t stop to reload but just brought his rifle back and then forward, battering the face of a zombie reaching for him. The butt of his rifle smashed into the thing’s face, and the bone shattered inward. It went down on a heap of other bodies, done for all time. Unable to move forward, Travis reached down and tugged the first body away from the pile in front of him.
I stepped forward, my gun reloaded, and fired into two zombies who had clogged the door. One headshot knocked one back inside the door, and my second shot brought the other one down on the pile. There were no more behind these two. At least not now.
I jumped in beside Travis and started pulling zombies out of the way, tossing them to the side.
Two more shots sounded from inside but then no more. I knew Hub was only carrying a pistol when he left the group. I had no idea how much ammo he carried, but there was a good chance that he had burned through all of it.
Travis must have come to the same conclusion, and in a state of near panic, he started walking up the pile of bodies outside the door. He stumbled and nearly went down but finally made it to and through the doorway.
I stepped over the bodies and entered the building just seconds later. As soon as I got in the door, I smelled them. The dead. The smell hit me like a physical assault. It had been a while since I encountered zombies in a confined space in these numbers, and my olfactory senses weren’t ready for it. I felt bile move out of my stomach and up to my throat before I forced it back down.
The zombies that had been at the barred windows immediately moved towards us, but found themselves tangled in waist-high confinement fences that made up the pens set up to store pigs. Now, they were the only things from keeping the undead from getting to us, and I could tell that it was only a matter of moments before they came over the fences. It was only because the ones in front of the crowd were being crushed against the fences and were unable to move because of the pressure bearing down on them from behind that kept them back.
A barrage of shots sounded outside. Zombies at the back of the crowd grunted from impacts, and a few fell face down on the floor. I suspected that Jo and the others had joined Kara in trying to thin the crowd from the outside.
“Dad?” Travis shouted. “Dad!”
Just a few feet inside the door was a pile of the undead, lying over one of the pens. A few of them were still moving, trying to work their way through the clog of bodies in their way.
I moved forward and fired strategic shots into the backs of their heads.
“Reload,” I yelled at Travis who peered into the depths of the building, his eyes wide in panic. “Reload!”
He stopped, looked at his rifle as if he had never seen such a thing in his life and then snapped out of it. He yanked a clip out of his pocket, pulled the old one, and clicked the new one into place.
Just as he looked back up, there was a flurry of movement from the pile, and we both aimed into it, but some instinct had us pause just for a moment before we started firing.
I heard a grunting noise, and a moment later, two zombies flew off the pile, and an arm shot out into the empty air, followed by a shoulder and then a head. It was Hub.
“You fellas just want to stand there or give me a hand?” he asked as he shoved a couple more zombies off the pile.
Travis leapt toward the pen and started pulling zombie bodies out of the way. Hub had taken shelter on one of the small confinement pens, literally lying on the floor and firing upwards as the zombies swarmed around him. The dead zombies lay slumped over the sides as the others tried to push past them, creating a clog of zombies over the pen. This pile of bodies hanging like a canopy over him is what kept Hub safe as we fought our way in.
Travis moved to help his father as I was stuck fending off a throng of zombies from each side. Oh goodie, I thought.
I looked to the right and saw two zombies using the old cheerleader pyramid approach, climbing onto and over the backs of their undead brethren in their over-eagerness to get at me. These two zombies made it onto the shoulders of the zombies in front and fell over the crush of zombies, hitting the concrete floor hard but were up unfazed and ready to eat. I blew out what was left of their brains before they could take a step, but I also noticed that the fence was bowing inward from all the force from behind it. We had seconds to get Hub free and to escape.
“Travis, Hub, we’ve got to move. Now!”
Travis had made it to his dad by then and hoisted him out of the mass of bodies and over the fence.
“There’s no time for a sentimental reunion,” I said, and they glowered at me for a second before moving for the door.
The fence gave way with a loud clanging crash, and zombies tumbled across the floor at my feet in a massive tangle of undead arms, legs, and torsos. It was as if someone had spilled an undead barrel of monkeys across the floor while they writhed to free themselves from the heap. One hand shot out
of the pile and reached out blindly, locking onto my ankle. I brought my other foot down with such force on the thing’s wrist that the bone snapped into two pieces, leaving the fingers still clutching my ankle, but losing purchase.
I sensed Travis and Hub going out the door rather than saw them as I focused on the zombies starting to untangle themselves from each other and come at us in hot pursuit. Well, more like a shambling pursuit.
I fired into the mass indiscriminately, and the ones in the front fell, causing another pileup. I didn’t wait for them to untangle themselves this time and backed out the door.
I had just backed two steps out when someone yelled, “Joel, get out of the way!”
I looked over my shoulder in time to see an enormous metal wall moving my way at a pace that was frightening. Without a second thought, I leapt to my right, rolled along the ground, and avoided being crushed against the side of the building by mere inches. When I looked up, I saw one of the farm tractors slammed up against the doorway, essentially blocking the zombies’ escape from the building. The tractor acted like a cork in the dam, preventing a flood of zombies from swarming over us. Devin sat behind the wheel of the tractor his face drained of blood, locked in a grimace.
A zombie’s hand swiped by my face, and once again, I found myself rolling along the ground away from the barred window. Zombies’ arms and hands flailed in the air, but the bars held them in check.
I climbed to my feet and looked up at Devin, his expression still held in place by fear and determination.
“Devin, my man,” I shouted, “you have saved the day.”
He looked to me, and his expression loosened up, but he was still not past whatever terror that held him just a moment before. The important thing was that he was able to get past it and act. He had saved Travis, me, and Hub. Where Steve Hampton was, I had no idea?
Hub, Travis, and Kara were on the other side of the tractor, so I made my way around. When I got to the back, I found Steve Hampton peeking around the tractor’s large back tire.
