The three of us quickly found ourselves face first in the dry forest leaves. I felt a broken limb digging into my ribs as I looked up to see the chopper swinging around the lake, keeping the bright beam focused on the small waves sloshing back and forth.
When it didn’t find any signs of life, it took to doing a pass around the whole lake, keeping the beam on the water’s edge. I watched the trees below swinging rapidly up and down, reminding me of the type of audience-created wave you’d see at a baseball game.
The light passed over us twice, spitting up dried leaves all around. Fighting to hold back a hacking cough, I could feel dust settling in my nose and throat. Luckily, we were buried in enough green shrubbery to go undetected. Finally, the chopper halted, simply hovering in the middle of the lake.
“Maybe they’ll think we’re dead and call off the search.”I coughed through the dust still floating all around us.
No such luck.
The chopper twisted counter-clockwise, its tail turning around toward us. Then it moved forward just over the trees on the opposite side from where we sat. Wide-eyed, I watched as it started its descent. They were landing in what must have been an open field or a parking lot across from our position.
“They’re really after us,”Kyle said, stating the obvious.
“Gordon’s a persistent man, boys. Once he sets his mind on something, he simply doesn’t stop until he gets it,”Jarvis replied.
I thought back to something I’d heard Rodgers say to Jarvis earlier. He’d asked Jarvis how he could betray his best friend, referring to Gordon. All along, I had thought Gordon was just taunting Jarvis by calling him things like old friend. I was starting to believe there was much more history behind that story. Knowing that now wasn’t the time to get to the bottom of it, I decided to table the conversation until we were out of this mess. If we got out of this mess.
Standing up, brushing rotted bark off my chest, I stepped back onto the trail and darted toward the trail sign. As I studied it, the helicopter engine droned to a halt. I found what appeared to be the trailhead less than a mile away. This exit from the hiking trails led directly into a structure labeled Park Office. I’ve been to many of these types of places before. I knew that they would have some limited equipment and maybe even some dry clothing.
I explained what I saw to Kyle and Jarvis, and pointed in the direction I thought we’d have to go. Anywhere would have been fine if it was away from where those bastards that had just landed were starting their hunt.
“Can you walk, Jarvis?”Kyle asked.
“I can limp if you’ll help me a bit,”he responded.
The two of us ducked under each of Jarvis’s arms and lifted him up. His legs were dragging through the trail below us, more than limping along as Kyle and I took off in as much of a sprint as we could muster.
As we moved along, I kept my ears tuned to the sounds of the forest. We could just barely hear them moving around in the distance. It would have been easy to mistake the sounds for small animals scurrying around, foraging for food. However, it felt like Lady Luck was out for lunch, leaving us on our own. Besides, we knew better. There was no doubt the walking dead were lurking in the forest. How many and how close was nearly impossible to tell.
Having to pull Jarvis over a fallen tree that lay across the trail was the most difficult thing we ran into before we reached the edge of a parking lot. With a good sweat worked up, my eyes darted from one side of the dark abyss to the other before finally landing on a winding path that led to a small office up on a hill across from us. The building sat below what appeared to be an old fire tower. At first glance, it looked more like a relic than something still operational.
As we took our first cautious steps into the lot itself, I saw three massively decomposed corpses on the black tar pavement. One of them was leaning up against a silver SUV with its severed hand dangling from a set of keys stuck in the door.
Guess he could have used a hand getting into his vehicle.
Standing over the body, I rubbed a circle in the dust plastered against the side window and stuck my face to the glass. Lowering my shoulders, I realized that it had already been picked clean, much like the set of bones resting at my feet. Snagging the keys from the door, I rattled the hand loose, letting it fall to the ground, and opened the door. After a few twists, I confirmed what I already had feared. The battery was drained.
From the rear of the truck where Kyle was standing guard, a small scratching sound caught my attention. Sliding around the rear wheel, I peered around the edge to see him digging his fingernail into the rear windshield.
Curious, I stepped a little closer, only to find that he was picking at a set of decals in the shape of five white stick figures. Two adults, two kids, and one in the shape of a dog.
“What?”he asked, almost defensively, before the decal in the shape of one of the parents slipped off and floated back and forth to the ground like a dead leaf falling from a tree.
Shaking my head, I looked out to the rest of the parking lot. There were two full rows of white-painted lines to help guide parking running up and down the oval lot that led up to the office. From the sky, I imagined that it must have looked much like the giant skeletal remains of a fish.
Feeling nearly trapped in that small section of human-made park, I gazed along the line of forest that ran around the whole parking lot as well as up and around the hill that the office and the fire tower sat on. Breathing deeply to regain my bearings, I couldn’t help but notice that we were nearly fenced in by the overgrowth of the woods.
As the moonlight traded places with a series of clouds, a darkness stole what little visibility we had, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand at full attention. What lurked beyond those trees didn’t immediately bother me. It was not being able to see what was two steps in front of us that had my mind set at a full panic.
Kyle stopped just outside the office building as the clouds shifted away, illuminating the exterior. Pausing for a few seconds, he finally whispered,“Sounds quiet. You hear anything?”
Tripping across the roots of an old oak tree which hung over the roof of the building, I stopped briefly to listen.
“No. Not a peep…If there’s anything in there, it’s been working on its patience.”
Sizing up the building, Jarvis added“Not one scratch on it. Windows seem intact and the door looks like it may actually be locked.”
“Hell, if it wasn’t for the weeds overgrowing through that wrought iron fence over there, I’d think the place was still open for business,”Kyle said, almost distantly.
He was right. As we continued slightly closer, I felt a sense of familiarity with the seemingly fresh painted brown exterior walls and the wrought iron fence that surrounded the place. It had that genuine rustic feel that I’d always loved when out in the wilderness.
Aside from the grass, weeds and unkempt trees, the place looked like it had been unscathed by the apocalypse. If it weren’t for the bodies resting in the parking lot, I might actually have let myself believe that.
Propping Jarvis up against the oak tree, I noticed the moonlight creating a dim shadow from the limbs above, almost appearing to scratch across our worn bodies like a giant decrepit hand. Lifting the hammer from my side, I pushed the thought from my mind as I noticed Kyle rooting around in the yard.
“What are you looking for?”
“Protection,”he replied, lifting a leg up, over a short brick wall, and into the field.
At first, he spied an oversized tree branch sticking up from the tall grass. Kicking it with his boot, he looked dismayed at the flimsiness of the rotting wood. I watched his gaze flicker as his eyes surveyed the building itself, finally stopping directly on the wrought iron fence that protected a small, weed-filled garden. Reaching down, he grunted as he slid his boot under one of the posts, testing its integrity. Giving it a good shake, he found one that was just loose enough for him to pry free. It was about three feet long, and fashioned a heart-shape
d spike at the tip.
With a soft snort, he slung the post over his shoulder. I could nearly see his teeth shining in the moonlight as he grinned like a child with a new toy. Kyle had officially found his very own Z-Saber.
With a quick flick of his hand, Kyle motioned toward the building. The two of us tiptoed up to the front door. Leaning in, I shot dust into the air as I blew on the glass before putting a hand up against it to block the slight glare from the moon above.
“Nothing moving,”Kyle said.
“Nope.”
“Whatcha think?”
“I can’t see shit, but the place has gotta have something useful aside from that scary as hell mannequin in the window.”
The only thing that the moonlight allowed us to see was the upper torso of a mannequin wearing a bright red t-shirt with large font wording that read:
Welcome to Fire Tower Park
Preventing Forest Fires for Over 100 Years!
“Shh…Do you hear that?”Kyle asked, turning around to peer out into the forest.
I listened intently until I did. Something was running through the trees. It was distant, but close enough for us to know that it wasn’t just some squirrel trying to find its nut.
“Over there! I see light,”Jarvis whispered with a low enough tone to make you think he was cursing in church.
Barely visible through the trees and far enough in the distance for me not to freak out just yet, I could see what appeared to be a few flashlights bobbing up and down toward the water we had just escaped from.
Kyle glanced at me, and I nodded. Both of us shifted our shoulders toward the front door. We knew we needed to get inside to see if we could dig up any supplies, but it had to happen quickly. None of us wanted to be stuck in this old building when Gordon’s men showed up.
After reaching down and slowly trying the knob, Kyle pulled his hand back and glanced over his shoulder one last time Seeing what he was about to do, I took a step back and watched as he lifted his boot and kicked in hard against the wooden door.
It burst inward with a crack, a bit too loud for my comfort, shooting splinters across a dust-covered floor. Leaping inside, ready to strike, the two of us stood there like morons for a moment as we peered around the shadow-infested room. Shifting my wide eyes from one set of cobwebs to another, I took a deep breath in, feeling a blast of stale air fill my nostrils.
Exhaling, I came up from my crouch, realizing the place appeared clear of Zs. Cautiously inching forward, I ran a hand across a near empty wooden shelf while surveying the few things that were still available for the taking. Weapons would be nice, but I certainly didn’t suppose we’d be finding any firearms in the place.
“Check this shit out,”I heard Kyle whisper with a little too much joy as he pulled a double-barreled shotgun from the contracted grip of a decomposed body lying behind the counter.
Looking over the top of an old metal register, I noticed that the decaying body was wearing a camouflage National Rifle Association (NRA) hat, and was missing a leg. Before the person died, it was clear that he had tried to shoot off his leg, as the stump still sitting in the boot was just a mere“foot”from where he lay dead. The hole starting at his mouth and running through the back of his skull had me guessing that he was getting ready to turn—just before he decided to end it.
“Must have gotten bit, and tried to sever the wound,”Jarvis said in a low voice as he eased toward us.
“I haven’t seen that work yet,”I replied.
“Either way, bless these NRA nuts,”Kyle said as he reached into the body’s front vest pocket and pulled out a handful of shells.
Eyeballing the rest of the dark room, I could see that it was mostly set up like a small museum. Stopping in my tracks, there was a moment where I nearly shit myself as I realized three frozen human figures were standing in the darkness across from us. After a few horror-filled seconds spent straining our eyes, we quickly realized that they were simply another set of mannequins. Each one propped up, displayed with knitting and sewing supplies—evidently reenacting what it took to make clothes before Americans could simply drag their fat asses to the nearest Walmart.
Pulling myself together, I glanced toward one of the walls. Spread across it was a mural that proudly displayed a series of children dressed in clothing that the original settlers of this area must have worn. A picture forever captured in time. All the children looked so happy. Momentarily thinking of Tyler, I wondered if he’d ever have the opportunity to be around that many other kids.
It still saddens me to know the answer to that question.
After a few more hasty minutes of running through the place, we pulled together a pile of equipment that included three plastic lighters, a full trail map, and a small medical kit to help fix up Jarvis’s leg. To our dismay, no other real clothing (aside from the red t-shirt) or supplies existed. The place had been fairly looted before it was deserted.
“We gotta get a lay of the land,”Kyle said as we crouched down by the window.“Gordon’s men are out there, and who knows how close that mega-horde is at this point.”
“That fire tower is out there. Maybe we can get a good vantage point from there.”
“Good thinking, John,”Jarvis replied.
Moments later, we crept outside, listening for any movement in the distance. The lights we’d seen earlier were nowhere in sight, leading us to think Gordon’s men had gone in a different direction…at least for the moment.
“Who’s gonna go up?”I asked with a gulp, already knowing the answer.
Kyle and Jarvis just stared at me as my shoulders dropped once more and I slid the hammer into my belt. Turning away from them, cursing myself for being the most nimble of the group, I reached up toward a ladder that led up to a platform which in turn led to a set of stairs that spiraled to the top of the tower.
I had seen fire towers in the past during backpacking trips, and knew that most of them were no longer in use. They were often at the tops of hills, giving people a good vantage point over the forest to watch for smoke. Some parks used scarce resources and funding to try to preserve them. With rotting wood and bent metal, this one felt like they had let it fall to the wayside. Still, we had to figure out what the hell was out there. For all we knew, there was a pack of creatures roaming around just outside the parking lot below. I found myself praying the moonlight would help me see well enough to be able to tell.
Glancing over the edge after reaching the first level, I looked down toward my friends. Kyle was standing guard with the shotgun held high, while Jarvis was plopped down against the base of the tower, tightly wrapping gauze around the red t-shirt that he’d tied across his leg to help slow the bleeding. I kept climbing.
Letting out a tired exhale, I pulled myself into the top of the fire tower. I stopped gritting my teeth once I found the floor absent of anything dead…or alive. It was made of wood. I could hear tiny slivers of dry rot falling to the ground below with each step. Attempting to balance my weight, I gripped a set of metal railings, which shook back and forth, as I inched forward. A bizarre feeling, as if something was missing, crept into my mind as I let my eyes adjust to the moonlight. Surveying the swaying trees, I tuned my ears to the blowing wind as I realized what it was. The world was devoid of that rhythmic chirping from distant insects that would normally be heard on a night like this. My mind drifted to those humid summer evenings I’d often spent sipping on a glass of bourbon while trying to relax on my back porch. All the while, that calming chant singing to me in the background. Tonight, it was as if they could sense the shitstorm was coming. Even the bugs knew to keep quiet.
With the moonlight peeking through the clouds, I could see a sizable chunk of the park below. In addition to the lake, it was apparent that a few other parking lots were spread out around the area, in between a massive expanse of trees and forests. What I didn’t see were any towns or signs of civilization. I also didn’t see anything in the form of Z hordes lurking around in our immediate area.
Glancing down at Kyle, I flashed a thumbs up to let him know we were all right for the time being. He tilted the shotgun up a degree or two, acknowledging the news, then turned back to continue his survey of the immediate area. Not lowering the gun from his hip, he guarded the parking lot, seemingly on full alert.
After adjusting the backpack over my shoulders, I reached into my vest pocket and pulled the cell phone out. Wiping the glass plate dry with my sleeve, I reached up and smashed the upper right-hand button with my thumb, praying that it would still turn on after its bath out in the lake. Not even the tiniest flicker of light crossed its screen. Dropping my head, cursing under my breath, I could only hope it would eventually dry out enough for me to recover the last remaining pictures of my wife.
Forced to take a guess, I estimated that we had less than fourteen hours before we needed to get back. With a heavy sigh, I lifted my head and looked toward the tree line, but didn’t see much of anything. Keeping my eyes fixed on where I believed the mega-horde to be coming from, I leaned forward and squinted to see if I could make out anything in the distance. Nothing could be seen through the cloak of darkness.
I wish that meant nothing was out there.
The wind died to a near calm, and a slightly audible sound hit me. It was a very low-level moan. Rather, a low level of multiple moans. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them.
I felt my skin crawl at the realization that the roar of the mega-horde was close enough to be heard. I had no way of telling how close they were, or how fast they were moving.
But I knew we had to get the hell out of there…fast.
Chapter 17
900 Miles (Book 2): 900 Minutes Page 12
