No Easy Hope - 01 (21 page)

“Hate to deny you company, bud, but this guy saved my life today. He’s earned himself some of Andrea’s cooking.”

Both Emily and Justin’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean, he saved your life?” Emily asked, stepping in front of Ethan. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story, and if you guys come over for dinner, I’d be happy to tell you about it.”

Justin gave me a glance that held a combination of respect and curiosity, then took Emily by the hand and led her away. The young woman protested, clearly not happy about Ethan’s admission.

“Don’t worry about them,” Ethan said, “they worry too much.”

I followed Ethan to his shack, which was one of the larger ones, at about six hundred square feet. Inside, it looked like a small one bedroom apartment. There was a Coleman stove on a table beneath a makeshift range hood, which connected to a pipe that extended through the ceiling. It was warmer in the shed than outside on the compound floor. Andrea came from the lone bedroom and held a single finger to her lips.

“Baby’s sleeping.” She whispered as she pulled a heavy burlap cloth across the door.

Ethan motioned to a couch and a couple of comfortable looking chairs that, along with a large coffee table, took up most of the near half of the room. Looking around the shack, I could tell that it wasn’t built to be a sturdy barrier, but only a rough partition to provide some privacy. It was constructed of two-by-fours and plywood, and the cinder block wall of the warehouse comprised the far wall. Everything around me was exposed wood with no insulation or drywall. Two candles burning in glass containers on the coffee table provided the room’s only illumination.

Ethan sat down on the couch, and I took a seat in a chair across the table from him. Andrea opened a cardboard box beside the Coleman stove and started pulling out boxes and cans.

“Is mac and cheese with kidney beans and corned beef hash okay, guys?” She asked, keeping her voice low.

“I could eat just about anything right now. Whatever you want to make is fine by me.” I said.

Andrea stacked a few items beside the stove and filled a pot with water from a small plastic barrel beside the kitchen table. A spice rack stood to the left of the camp stove, and she picked a few spices and dried herbs from the racks.

“It might be simple fare, but that lady can make miracles happen with even the most simple ingredients.” Ethan said, gazing lovingly at his wife.

“Honestly, I could eat roast snake and grilled frog legs right about now.” I replied.

“That won’t be necessary, at least not yet.” Andrea said as she set the water to boil on the stove and started opening the cans.

There was a knock at the crude front door, which was simply a sheet of plywood hung on three hinges with a latch to hold it closed from the inside. Ethan got up to open it, and Justin and Emily came inside. Justin waved at Andrea.

“Hi. I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, come on in. You two want some dinner?”

“We’d love some.” Emily said as she crossed over to Andrea and gave the other woman a warm hug.

“Didn’t Bill say something about preparing the evening meal?” I asked. “Does everyone here cook indoors, or is there like a little mess hall or something?”

“A little bit of both.” Justin replied. “Most folks bring out folding tables and eat in the open area between the partitions. We call that the common area. It’s usually pretty simple stuff, and not nearly as good as what Andrea puts together, but it’s nice to sit down as a community and have people to talk to.”

I nodded. It was easy enough to understand how being surrounded by flesh eating fiends might make a person long for some friendly company. Justin’s words reminded me of something Ethan mentioned earlier.

“Hey, didn’t you tell me there were two other people out scouting with you?” I asked him.

“Yes, but they may not be back for a few days yet. They’ve set up a relay system that allows them to bring supplies back in large shipments, at least as long as the available gasoline holds up.”

Emily looked quizzically at Ethan. “What do you mean? There’s plenty of gas out there. We just have to siphon it out.”

“Gasoline expires.” I said. “It doesn’t stay volatile forever. It usually goes inert after about nine months or so, unless you put an additive in it to preserve it. Even then, under ideal conditions, you might get a few years out of it at most. Whatever work you need to do that requires a gasoline powered motor, you better get it done in the next six months or so. After that, gasoline supplies will become increasingly unreliable.”

Emily stared at me for a moment, then turned back to Ethan pointed a thumb in my direction.

“Is all that shit he just said true?”

Ethan laughed. “Yes, it is, and he said it a heck of a lot better than I could have. That’s why we’re working so hard to stockpile supplies as quickly as we can. Once the gasoline goes bad, we’re back to pulling carts.”

“So what do we do when that happens?”

Ethan shrugged. “The best we can I guess. If we play our cards right, and store up the right materials, we can build a sustainable community that doesn’t rely on gasoline.”

“How do we do that?” Emily asked.

Ethan gave her a look of mock condescension. “Since when do you care about planning and logistics?”

Emily slapped him on the arm. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m serious. How are we going to survive without machines?”

Ethan heaved a sigh. “That’s a simple question with a very complicated and uncertain answer. For now, we plan as best we can and make do with what we have. No sense borrowing trouble from tomorrow.” He gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and led her to the little sitting room with Justin and I in tow.

“Anyone fancy a little wine?” Andrea asked.

 Even Emily perked up at the mention of wine. A chorus of affirmatives went up from the gathered company, myself included. Andrea fished around in one of several cardboard boxes stacked in the little kitchen and produced three bottles of a decent pinot noir. She uncorked one of them and poured the rich red liquid into clear plastic party glasses.

“Sorry folks, but we left the good crystal in Charlotte.” She said. Her comment elicited a round of rueful chuckles from the assembled guests. I didn’t get it, but I smiled anyway as Andrea passed them around. Justin raised his cup in the air.

“To living to see another day.” He said.

Everyone agreed, and we clinked the plastic cups as best we could. I sipped the wine, and sat back in my chair.

“So, Ethan.” I said. “Why don’t you tell me how you ended up down in Alexis stranded on the roof of a Burger King?” I asked.

In unison, everyone’s heads first swiveled toward me, then toward Ethan, almost as if they had rehearsed it.

Andrea gave Ethan a piercing glare, cocked her head to the side, and placed one petite fist on her hip. “Yeah, honey, why don’t you tell us about that?”

Ethan squirmed a little under her scrutiny and shot me an irritated glance. I smiled my best guileless smile, and took another sip of my wine. Emily did her best to rescue him.

“How about this, why don’t you tell us how
you
came to be here.” She said, giving me a hard glare.

“Three reasons.” I responded, counting off on my fingers. “Number one, the stories are interrelated. Two, this guy owes me one for helping him out today, and three, he already promised to explain it all over dinner. I made no such promise.”

“Well, dinner ain’t here yet, but I suppose you’re right.” Ethan said. “I did promise, and I owe you for helping me today.”

That last part wasn’t necessarily true, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. I planned to share what I knew about fighting the undead with these people, assuming they didn’t turn out to be meth smoking cannibals or something, but I would do it when I was damn well good and ready. For the moment, I wanted information.

“Go on,” Andrea said, making a twirling motion with one hand, “tell us where you been the last two days.”

“Two days?” I asked. “You were stuck in Alexis for two days?”

“Yes, I was,” He said, heaving an irritated sigh, “and if everyone will pipe down for a minute I’ll explain everything.”

Ethan tossed back the rest of his wine, picked up the bottle from the coffee table to fill it back up, then leaned back on the couch for a moment, his gaze distant. Uneasy silence filled the room for the space of a few heartbeats. The storm that Ethan had pointed out to me earlier rolled in, and rain began to beat on the roof of the warehouse. The first peals of thunder rumbled as Ethan began to speak.

“Okay,” He said, “here’s what happened.”

Chapter 8

Ethan’s Story

“When ammunition started running low, I talked to Bill about putting together a team to get a new supply from a gun shop over in Alexis. He wouldn’t hear of it. He said that there were less dangerous places to look, and we should exhaust those sources first before risking anyone on a supply run to an infested town. I railed, argued, begged, and bullied, but Bill wouldn’t change his mind. Finally, I told him he might be the leader, but I still have the freedom to make my own decisions, and I was going to try it alone. He tried to talk me out of it, of course, but my mind was made up.

I set out early Monday morning at the same time Cody and Stan went north to gather supplies. I wanted to bring back as much ammo as possible, so I brought the biggest duffel bag I could find and set out for Alexis on a bicycle. My plan was to ride the bike close to town and leave it at the bottom of a hill, out of sight of the creeps. After that, I planned to approach on foot and circle around behind the main part of town on highway 27. There is a steep hill less than a quarter mile from the back entrance to a gun shop that I knew would have plenty of ammunition.

 I figured that I could use the woods for cover until I reached the hill, slip down nice and quiet, and get into the back entrance before the creeps spotted me. Once inside, I could fill up the bag with as much ammo as I could carry, go back up the hill, and make my way back to the bicycle. Once there, I would cache the ammo and head back for more. After I had staged as much as daylight would allow, I was going to ride back to town and use one of our vehicles to retrieve it.”

I raised a hand. “Uh, why not just drive a car to the bottom of the hill? I mean, why bother with a bike in the first place?”

“Noise.” Ethan replied. “The sound of the car, even from that distance, would attract the creeps. I’ve seen it for myself. In order for my plan to work, I had to avoid alerting them. I needed time to make several trips back and forth to the gun shop. If I staged the ammo by the side of the road nice and quiet, the noise from the car wouldn’t matter. I could be there and gone before the creeps would have time to do anything about it.”

“That part makes sense.” I said. “It’s the rest of your plan that I find fault with.”

“We can go over that later, in detail if you like, but for right now let me go on with the story.”

“By all means.” I gestured for him to continue.

“After leaving the bike, I made my way to the hill behind the gun shop and down to the fence at the bottom. Everything was going fine. I brought a pair of metal snips with me and cut a hole in the fence big enough to walk through. I made it to the back door of the gun shop without incident. The door was locked, but I was expecting that, and brought a pry-bar with me. What I didn’t expect, was the shop owner still being in the damn store. He must have heard me trying to force the door open, and set up a welcome for me.”

“Alan was still there?” Andrea asked, a horrified look on her face.

Ethan nodded. “I was prying the door open when all of a sudden I heard the lock turn. I stopped for a second, and started backing away. Next thing I know, the door slams open and Alan McMurray is standing there with a shotgun pointed at my head. I shouted ‘Don’t shoot! I’m alive!’ or something like that. Thank God he recognized me when he opened the door. He lowered the gun and asked me what I wanted, and I told him I was there to search for ammo. He motioned me inside and locked the door behind us.