Roads Less Traveled (8 page)

Ben and Kyra found their handguns in the living room and fastened the holsters onto their belts. They hurried to the front door and waited as they listened to the sounds of running upstairs. Ben cracked the door open and could hear faint moaning coming from behind the house. He stepped out onto the porch and could see the first zombie head come bobbing into view over the horizon. He shut the door and rushed over to the stairs.

“Hurry up. We need to move now!” he shouted.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Jake said. He strode down the steps easily, carrying both his and his grandma’s weapons. Zack followed closely behind with Mike bringing up the rear. Nancy moved to the table and started putting food into plastic zip-lock bags.

“We need to go, Grandma,” Jake said. The others had gathered at the front door, bags and weapons in hand.

“Yes I know, this will only take a second. No one has eaten yet.” She finished putting together the take-out breakfast and hurried alongside Jake.

“Are we ready?” Ben asked with his hand on the doorknob. Everyone nodded. He opened the door and they all rushed quietly to their designated vehicles. Ben would be driving Bill’s truck and would be accompanied by Kyra and Mike. Jake would be driving his own Jeep and would have Nancy and Zack with him. Jake would take the lead and Ben would follow.

The first row of zombies were sliding and falling down the hill just as Jake led the way down the driveway. He was driving like hell and Ben was doing all he could to keep up with him. The suspension on the old truck was shot and the gravel road was bouncing them all over the seat. He turned on the CB and yelled at Jake.

“Hey slow it down man! You know these aren’t mutants with superhuman speed!” he said while making a sharp left at the end of the drive. The tires squealed and Kyra toppled over onto Mike. Thanks to Kasey’s foresight, they had also snagged a CB radio from the pawn store next to the gun shop and installed it in Jake’s Jeep the day before.

“Just tryin’ to get some distance between us and the welcoming committee, dear.” Jake could be a real smartass sometimes and Ben laughed in spite of himself. They began the trip south at a more reasonable speed just as the sun was beginning its ascent in the morning sky.

* * *

The first hour went by semi-smoothly; by sticking to the back roads, they had encountered only a few small vehicle accidents and surprisingly few zombies. Their route would take them southeast, making a wide loop around Pittsburgh and the surrounding suburbs. If all went well, they would travel this way out of Pennsylvania and then south through Maryland before finally entering the eastern parts of West Virginia. Their destination: Monongahela National Forest. Kasey was safely isolated within this thickly wooded mountainous region.

They had traveled forty-four miles of the roughly 220 mile trip when it suddenly occurred to Ben he hadn’t called Kasey to inform her of their situation. He ran a hand over his front pocket, suddenly forgetting whether or not he had grabbed his cell phone as they scrambled out of the house.

“Oh crap…” he mumbled.

“I’ll check your bag,” Kyra said when she noticed his distress. She reached between Mike’s feet and started rummaging around. “Here, found it.” She handed the phone to Ben and smiled. Obviously relieved, he smiled back and nodded his thanks. He checked the battery bar on the screen and saw it was almost dead.

“There should be a car charger in there too, Kyra. Would you find it for me?” He pulled the cigarette lighter from its power source and tossed it on the dash, then waited for Kyra to find the charger and plug it in for him. His signal was decent in this area so he dialed Kasey’s number. His heart began to sink as he listened to the ringing on the other end. He hung up after twelve rings.

“What’s wrong?” Kyra whispered. She and Mike were now watching Ben intently. He just shook his head and kept his eyes on the road and the rear end of Jake’s Jeep.

“Let me try, you drive,” she said as she took the phone and hit the redial. This time an automated message came on after the third ring. All circuits busy, it said.

“Sounds like the lines are all tied up.” Kyra looked at Ben with the phone gripped in her hand.

“Or they’ve finally gone down altogether. Try my laptop,” he said and nodded towards his bag. Kyra tossed the phone onto the dash and pulled the computer out. She flipped it open, turned on the power, and waited. Tense dread filled the cab of the truck. All three let out a huge sigh of relief when the welcome screen finally came up. Ben spared a quick glance at the screen.

“She’s not online. And she won’t know to check for me there until tonight after I’m due to call her. Just send her an e-mail and tell her everything that’s happened this morning. Let me know when you’re ready to give her the details of our route and I’ll talk you through it,” he said. Kyra nodded and began typing.

Chapter Seven

October 3
^rd

I woke up that morning refreshed and actually got a lot accomplished. After making many trips hauling food upstairs, I went to the attic for extra blankets, sheets, and the old heavy drapes I had stowed away up there after first moving in. I had just finished hanging the curtains in the spare bedrooms when Gus reminded me for the fourth time he was ready to eat lunch. Before heading downstairs, I went from room to room, looking out all the windows to check the perimeter. All was quiet, so off to the kitchen we went. I filled his bowl, then turned on the TV while fixing myself a sandwich.

The local station had finally gone off the air. I flipped through the other local channels as I ate, the same multicolored screen showing on every station.
Technical difficulties my ass
, I thought. I tried the national news channels and CNN was still broadcasting. While the reporter talked, my eyes strayed to the names scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Portland, Boston, New York, Philadelphia…the list went on. All of the major cities in every single state had been lost. Efforts at quarantining the areas had failed. The list of smaller cities was even longer. From Maine to California and everywhere in between, the dead had overrun the living. The situation was more or less the same all over the globe. International efforts to halt the spread of the virus had failed miserably, mostly due to the slow reaction of the various governments.

Our own government hadn’t been heard from in almost twenty-four hours, the reporter was saying. Most likely they were in hiding. Tuck tail and run, the one thing they were good at. Probably under the mistaken impression they could keep the country running, ensure the American way of life would go on. Problem with that was did they really think there would be enough of us left to govern? And would we want them back in the first place? They did a real bang-up job protecting us when we needed them the most. Then, when the situation was “lost,” they ran. Deserted us. After
three goddamn days!
No, it’s safe to say that whoever survived this and began the long road back from near extinction would not want the government butting in. One thing I can say, they were smart enough not to start dropping nukes everywhere. Thank God for small favors I guess.

Gus and I finished our lunch and decided to take a walk around the yard. I grabbed my rifle and the cordless phone on my way out. I kept having the feeling that Mia would call me, even though it had been three days and she was probably unable to come to the phone right now. I chuckled and shook my head, amused at the stand-up comedian that was my brain. It was still cool, but warmer than it had been in the morning. The air had the feel of an early winter and I was glad my firewood was all split and stacked. One less thing to worry about. All was quiet, as it had mostly been the last couple of days, and birds were even singing. Over at the tree line, Gus and I watched two chipmunks play and tussle around in the leaves. It was very easy to forget about the rest of the world and the death swallowing it. Here, on my little piece of mountain, everything was business as usual.

I caught myself being swayed into a false sense of security more than once that afternoon. But I figured since I’d realized that, then it might be okay to relax a little, right? I took advantage of the quiet afternoon and did some maintenance around the place. There was an old water hand-pump next to the barn, so I made sure it was still working. Gus jumped and barked as I pumped, water pouring onto the ground. If he got brave enough, he would run at it and snap his jaws, trying to bite and tug. After he decided it just wasn’t worth his time, I replaced the cover and went on to the barn. We walked around inside for a few minutes, not really having anything to do out there. It was then that it dawned on me: boredom was another devious and underhanded way to die now. We walked back out, I fastened the barn door, and then just stood there. Gus sat patiently at my feet, thinking who knows what in his little doggy mind.

“Hmm,” I grunted. I scanned the perimeter again; the chipmunks were still having a good time. The birds were still singing. I sighed and turned my head towards the pasture. I hadn’t seen my horses now for almost a week, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. They had almost a hundred acres to roam around on, and they wouldn’t come back to the barn unless I either led them in or they were forced back by a storm.

“Gus, I think we’ve just discovered our next mission. Let’s go find the horses.” I felt better having an objective, a plan. Gus took off ahead of me, running under the gate. I made sure once I entered that the chain was wrapped around and securely locked behind me. As I walked I thought it might be a good idea to bring the horses back and put them inside for the night. In the morning I would let them out into the barn lot; a small fenced-in meadow inside the pasture itself but adjoining the barn from the back. It was probably unnecessary; the field they were in stretched the length of the mountain ridge and was only accessible by the gate. The backside was nothing but a steep, rocky slope even a living human couldn’t scale. Regardless, I knew I would feel better having them close. All four of them were well trained and broken to ride. If worse came to worse, I could escape with them.

We had walked so far that the house was out of sight by the time I saw my oldest mare. Gus was bouncing like a rabbit over patches of high grass and was oblivious to her presence. She lifted her head as I approached and came to greet me.

“Hey Daisy, long time huh?” I said as I stroked her forehead. She nudged me with her nose and closed her eyes, loving the attention. I took a few more steps, Daisy following close behind, until I finally saw the others, who had already winded me and started in my direction. I waited until they were close enough to keep up, then started back to the house. I whistled for Gus, who proceeded to turn tail when he saw the giant beasts and booked it back to the gate.

Daisy nudged me again in the back as we walked, her way of telling me I was crazy for walking when I could ride just as easily. So I grabbed a handful of mane and climbed on. The old girl strode ahead while the other mares followed. I slid my rifle sling onto my shoulder, hooked a thumb into the strap, and took in my surroundings. I remember thinking it was a perfect afternoon; the weather was clear and crisp, my dog was up ahead and it was just me and my horse. Quiet, calm, peaceful. I also remember wondering,
how long will it last
?

* * *

I ended up riding around in the field for the majority of the day. Gus watched from a safe distance: the other side of the gate. I checked my watch, saw it was suppertime, and hopped off Daisy. I led her by the halter out the gate and to the barn. I didn’t worry about the other three mares; as long as Daisy was there, they would follow her no matter what. After swinging the big front door back, I went straight to Daisy’s stall and opened the door, then moved down the line and opened the others. One by one they lumbered inside, taking their good old time. I went through and fastened all the doors, said goodnight, and left. Gus was waiting for me on the porch as I secured the outer barn door and ran over to shut the gate.

“Alright, alright already, I’m coming you big chicken.” I smacked him lightly on the behind as he walked ahead of me around to the front door. The porch was what I called a partial wraparound: it started on the garage side of the house next to the door and spanned the entire front of the house, then stopped just around the corner, before the first window on that side. The steps on that far side were closest to the barn, and the steps on the door side were closest to the sidewalk and garage.

Since I wasn’t hungry yet and was really starting to dread another evening of glorious nothingness, I decided to sit on the front porch until dark. Gus grunted and plopped down beside me, annoyed at being outside when he thought he should be inside eating. I noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had decided to call it a day as well. After swinging back and forth for a while, I pulled the phone from my jacket pocket and called Ben. Immediately the operator came on and said in her lovely electronic voice the number couldn’t be completed as dialed. I stared at it for a minute and thought I had dialed the wrong number. So I tried again. Same message.

“Shit,” I muttered and jumped up from the swing. It kicked back and hit the house with a thud, causing Gus to wake up with a snort and a bark. “Oh be quiet,” I hissed and hurried into the house. I was just inside the door before remembering my rifle, so I turned, almost fell over the hungry dog that was fighting around my legs to get inside, and stomped back to retrieve it. I glanced around the yard (something that had quickly become a reflex), and was dialing Ben’s number again as I stepped crossed the threshold. Still nothing. Gus was chomping away at his Kibbles-N-Bits in the kitchen as I locked the front door and quickly slammed the bars closed.