Roads Less Traveled (7 page)

* * *

It ended up taking the entire day to finish the windows. As it turned out, I severely underestimated the job. That little pep talk I had given myself didn’t help for shit either when I found myself trying to hang a sheet of plywood, while standing on a ladder, and simultaneously attempting to screw the plywood into place. Yeah, it can’t be done. I knew it wasn’t a one-person job but didn’t actually start having doubts until I had already dragged the ladder outside and was standing there staring at the plywood on the ground, with a battery-powered drill and a box of screws shoved into each armpit. But after dragging all that crap outside, I was going to hang that plywood if it killed me. Lucky for me, good sense put a stop to the foolishness before that happened.

So I ended up reinforcing just the windows on the porch, since those were really the only ones a zombie could reach anyway. That leads me to the other realization I had while standing outside and scratching my chin: none of the first floor windows were accessible from the ground.

Granted, if a burglar wanted to get in, he probably could. But burglars can climb, zombies cannot. The house sits on a basement, which I’ve already mentioned. But the terrain in this area is very rocky, making a subterranean basement extremely difficult to dig and build. Yes, most, if not half, of the basement was underground. But there was just enough above ground that it raised the bottom of the windows slightly out of reach. It’s amazing the details we ignore or take for granted, isn’t it?

I also decided to reinforce the front door while I was at it. I thought I had some solid steel bars in the barn, something I had salvaged from a construction job a few years back when the company decided to remodel my former place of employment. So after double checking the windows yet again and being satisfied the plywood sheets were snug and secured, Gus and I walked to the barn. I should have been relieved, not seeing any trace of zombie activity, but instead I was growing tenser by the minute.

The logical part of my mind understood that my location, while inconvenient in the pre-zombie days, was a prime spot for hunkering down and avoiding the hordes of undead. I was safely nestled in the Appalachian mountains of southern West Virginia, with her steep rocky inclines and sparse population. Unless a mass of deadheads lucked into finding their way out of the nearest town (ten miles away and with a pre-zombie population of around fifty), and onto my road (which only had two residents, me and the late Mr. Crousley), then up and along the cliff-strewn mountain I call home, I wouldn’t have to worry about hordes anytime soon. But expect the unexpected right?

Hence the irrational part of my mind was screaming at me to fortify, fortify, fortify. Couldn’t afford to get lazy or let my attention and alertness go soft. There was always the possibility Ben and his group would get stranded somewhere and I would have to rescue them.

Once we got inside the barn I did a quick check around the lower level. The hayloft above was only accessible by ladder and it was propped against the wall, so I knew the upstairs was secure. I rummaged around for some time before finally finding the steel bars. There were six altogether and just about the right length for what I had in mind. Good thing too because I’m not a welder and had no way of cutting them. So after making two trips, and I suppose half a trip running back out for the ladder I had forgotten beside the house, Gus and I went inside for the night. It was just coming dusk, and fixing the bars to the door would keep me busy until bedtime.

* * *

Ben called to check in just as I was fastening the third bar to the wall. Nothing new to report he had said. They had spent the day much as I had: boarding the windows, gathering all the food in the house and taking inventory, that sort of thing. They weren’t planning on a long term stay at that farm, but they needed to be as secure as possible for the immediate future. Nancy was doing better, which I was very pleased to hear, and they had also buried Bill. Mike had spent the day in bed recuperating. We talked a bit more, ironed out some wrinkles in The Plan, then said our goodbyes. I decided to grab a bite to eat before finishing “the gate,” which turned out quite nicely if I do say so myself.

Each individual bar was fastened on the left-hand side of the door in the wall studs by a heavy-duty hinge, same as the ones I had used long ago to hang the gate at the pasture field entrance. Lucky for me I had some extra in the barn leftover from that task. I also found the leftover latches and these were fastened to the wall on the right-hand side of the door. Once it was completed each steel rod could be unfastened and swung back, allowing the front door to be opened. Then, once the door was closed, it was as simple as swinging the rods shut and latching them in place. I stood back and studied the work I had completed, checking for anything I might have overlooked.

I tested the bars over and over to make sure they swung smoothly and noise-free. I jerked as hard as I could once they were latched and they didn’t give or budge. Seemed secure.

“Yes,” I said to Gus, “this will do nicely. If only we had more bars to secure the back door. But at least one entrance has a backup now in case a zombie horde happens to find us and breaks the door to pieces.”

I looked down at Gus, who was staring up at me from my feet. When I realized he wasn’t going to answer I started upstairs for a shower and then to bed. Turns out I was fortunate that night; sleep came to me dreamless and silent.

Chapter Six

October 3
^rd
: Ben’s side

The next morning Ben woke to the sounds and smells of breakfast. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and noticed the sheets were a mess. One corner of the fitted sheet was completely pulled off the mattress and he was nearly tangled in it. It took several minutes for him to remember where he was, and that this was no ordinary morning. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He groaned and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His stomach was growling and he had to piss like a racehorse.

He could hear the women downstairs talking and occasionally laughing, but he didn’t hear the guys. He jumped up, dragged his jeans on, and snuck out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face after relieving himself, then stared at his reflection. His brown hair was a mess and there were dark circles under his eyes. He rubbed his hands over his cheeks and decided he’d better shave sometime today. His stomach growled again sharply, so he sighed and went downstairs.

“You’ve really never made scrambled eggs before?” Nancy was asking Kyra just as Ben turned the corner into the kitchen. She had a bowl in the crook of her arm and was furiously whipping eggs as she stared at Kyra.

“No, I’ve never made scrambled eggs before. I haven’t made much of anything really, I’m not a cook. I’m just too busy with school and stuff. I make a mean margarita, though, if you’re ever interested,” Kyra said, grinning at the older woman.

“Alright then, I’d say it’s about time you learn.” Nancy shoved the bowl into Kyra’s hands and pointed the whisk at her. “Well, go on. They’re just eggs, dear. Beat the hell out of them.”

Kyra took the whisk and smirked, but did as she was told. Ben smiled and poured himself a cup of coffee while listening to the friendly banter. Nancy busied herself with frying bacon and buttering toast while directing Kyra on the finer points of egg scrambling. Ben leaned against the sink and watched the two women, reminded of his own grandmother and how she used to smack his knuckles with a spatula when they would fry eggs together on Sunday mornings. She had died many years ago.

“Good morning, Ben, how did you sleep?” Nancy asked, snapping Ben from his reminiscing.

“Alright thanks. Where are the guys?”

“Oh, they went outside. Said something about patrolling,” Kyra answered over her shoulder.

“Did Mike go with them?” Ben asked. Nancy simply nodded affirmatively with her mouth set in a deep frown. She was still disappointed at Jake for the beating he had given Mike almost a day and half earlier. Nancy was a retired nurse and had tended to both their injuries after the fight. Ben was still amazed at how quickly she was recovering. She had even made it through the burial without a hitch. He was beginning to see where Jake got his personality from.

“Ok, I better get out there and make sure they’re playing nicely.” He set his coffee cup in the sink and was headed for the door.

“Yes, Ben, thank you. And tell them breakfast is ready. By the time you get back, it’ll be on the table,” Nancy said. She turned to Kyra as Ben shut the door. “I’ll make a cook out of you yet, girl.” She grinned and patted Kyra on the shoulder as the younger woman dumped the eggs into the skillet.

“Oh, you will try,” Kyra grinned back and bumped Nancy with her hip. The kitchen filled with laughter as the two carried on, shoving their fear to the back burner.

* * *

Ben stood in the front yard trying to see through the thick fog that blanketed the valley. The grass was wet from the early morning dew and the temperature had dropped sharply. He thought about going back inside for a jacket, and then decided against it. He wanted to find the others. He glanced at Bill’s truck as he passed by, chuckling at the way the tarp resembled a giant blue marshmallow. Before calling Kasey the night before, he had helped the others load everything they might need for the road trip into the back of the truck, then helped cover it with a tarp and secure it with bungee cords.

He strained his eyes trying to find the guys through the dense mist. He knew he couldn’t call out to them (any sound might alert any nasties nearby), so he walked on. He didn’t like not being able to see, but he could hear just fine. And what he heard was nothing. He stopped at the bottom of the sloping bank behind the house. He guessed the guys would have gone this way since it led to the closest neighbor. He tilted his head and listened again. No birds, but in the distance there was what he thought sounded like a low humming.

Puzzled, he continued up the rolling landscape. He slipped a couple of times in the wet grass and had to bite his lip to keep from swearing. He couldn’t see any farther than a few feet ahead of him and nearly tromped on Zack’s feet when he neared the crest of the hill.

He dropped to his knees and felt a leg, then a hand closed around his wrist and pulled him to the ground.

“Shh,” Jake whispered urgently into his ear. Ben turned his head and could see his friend clearly, lying on his belly beside him. Next to Jake was Mike, and on Ben’s other side was Zack. They were all staring ahead, their eyes focused on something at the bottom of the hill. The sun had started to burn off the fog on this side, and the view of the valley was beautiful. Ben’s eyes slowly lowered until he saw what the others were looking at. It was decidedly not beautiful. In fact, it was terrifying. He inhaled sharply and grabbed Jake’s arm, nearly causing him to drop the binoculars he was using. Jake made a face and narrowed his eyes at Ben before turning his attention back to the neighbor’s house.

The low humming Ben had heard was the sound of tens of dozens of zombies, all moaning in unison as they converged around the double-wide trailer below. He noticed they were trickling in from the direction of the highway, and he was suddenly struck with panic. If they could surround that house so quickly, what was stopping them from finding Nancy’s?

They watched as the undead broke through windows and stumbled inside, some tripping over their own intestines. The occupants began screaming as they were torn apart and eaten alive. Finally the door gave in and a pile of zombies fell inside, with more tumbling in over them. Ben shut his eyes but couldn’t drown out the moans and screams.

Jake tapped his shoulder and motioned for them to move back. Just as the four had begun wiggling their way backwards down the hill, Mike sneezed. Not a prissy little sneeze either, but the kind that would blow your brains out if you tried holding it. Everyone froze and held their breath, their eyes fixed on the zombie horde still wreaking havoc below. One by one, they began turning their heads in Ben’s direction. One by one, they began their staggering limp towards the men.

“Run!” Jake said as he grabbed Ben’s shoulder. They jumped to their feet and ran, sliding and falling down the hill. At this rate, they would make it back to the house way before the swarm of deadheads. If they were having a hard time staying upright, they knew the zombies would too. But the fact remained: they now knew the location of fresh meat, and they wouldn’t stop until they had it.

* * *

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Mike muttered as he tore through the kitchen and past the two ladies. They watched him run by and up the stairs, then slowly turned to each other. They dropped the plates they were holding and were about to start outside when the other three men rushed through the door. Ben slammed it shut as Jake and Zack continued through the house.

“We have to go,
now
,” he said as he grabbed Kyra and Nancy by the elbows.

“What’s happening?” Kyra asked while Nancy turned on her heel and raced up the stairs after Jake.

“They’re coming,” was all he had to say to get her moving. Everyone had emergency bags already packed and ready to go by the front door. The truck and Jeep were loaded. They just had to grab the weapons and get to the vehicles. He and Jake had stayed up late the night before planning their route to Kasey’s, then a little extra time planning back-up routes. The official Plan called for them to stay at Nancy’s another week, but there was always room for exceptions.