Beyond the Barriers (23 page)

“Like I’m on morphine. I feel a bit lost, and my body is warm, but I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I don’t see you as the romantic type. You’re more of an action girl.”

“I wasn’t always like this. I used to be a mom and a wife, and I was happy. I don’t like what I’ve become. I want to go back to the old way, but I guess that isn’t ever going to happen.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I leaned in to kiss her warm lips. I liked her candor and her toughness. I liked how she could turn into a sexy woman when she wanted to, and how she could tell me what she wanted and how she wanted it.

I was on safe ground with her, which made me content.

Another shot rang out. A hunting rifle, this time, was my guess. Then another, and I was itching to get outside.

“I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Don’t forget me.” She squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Erik, for everything. I don’t think I ever told you that, and I meant to.”

I had the urge to hug her, but her recovering body probably would not take too kindly to it. After planting another kiss on her forehead, I left the room.

In the living room, I saw a pair of people I didn’t know leaning over a map. They looked up as I entered. The man nodded, and the woman, an older gal who had a matronly look, eyed me up and down.

“Bathroom?”

The man pointed toward the other end of the hall.

“In there. If it’s too full, use the bucket on the side to pour just enough water in until it flushes, then stop.”

It stood to reason that simple things like water were hard to come by, and there would be the constant need to get more. In the cabin, we had an outhouse in the back that was a simple hole in the ground. I wondered if anyone had thought to make one here. Probably easier to just dig a big hole and piss off the side.

After taking care of business in the dark, trying to ignore the stench, I left the small room and went outside. The sun was high, and if I had to guess at the time, I would have judged it just before noon. I hadn’t worn a watch in months. What was the point? I didn’t have to go to work—no appointments. I didn’t have to worry about what time to watch shows on TV, when to cook, or when to wake up. Our brave new world had precipitated a lack of technology, and in some ways, this pleased me. I would have liked about a half hour a day on the Internet, but even that need was fading with time.

The circle of cars and trucks made quite the impressive barrier. They were parked so close together that the only way into most of them was through the rear window or trunk. A group of large SUVs created a sort of gate. A couple had open hatches, and I was betting they were the getaway plan.

One of the bigger trucks, an enormous vehicle that looked like something one would see at a monster rally, was idling. Wires ran out of the hood to a box, which in turn was connected to a bunch of car batteries. So that was how they got portable energy. Just charge the batteries every day, and with enough jury-rigging, I supposed you could run a light for a few hours with a DC convertor.

On top of the truck was a man in the same type of jumpsuit the others wore. He had a rifle pressed to his shoulder and was lying prone, watching the entryway to the neighborhood with a pair of binoculars. I stared down the road and saw a body in the street. It was too far away to make out many details.

A large hand clapped my shoulder, and it was hard not to reach up, clamp my hand around it, then turn and put its owner in a shoulder lock. Living away from people had made me an edgy fucker. I looked over my shoulder into the grinning eyes of Scott. He had on a camouflage cap like hunters wear, but the same jumpsuit and scarf from the night before.

“Hey man. Up at last?”

“Barely. I feel like I slept in a wooden chair all night. Oh yeah, I did.”

“We got beds. Just ask next time.”

“Next time I won’t be dead on my feet, and I will.”

“Don’t say dead on your feet around some of these guys. They’re likely to take your head off with a Louisville Slugger.”

I smiled at his grim humor.

I saw my car out beyond the barricades. “Should I bring that in?”

“Unless you’re leaving. We weren’t sure. Nice work turning a Honda into a tank. Some of the guys were checking it out earlier. That turret is great. Too bad it doesn’t have a weapon mounted in it through a big hole. That would be badass.”

“You don’t care if we leave?”

“Why would we?”

“I don’t know. You guys have a nice fiefdom set up here. I figured you would have a big recruiting speech for newcomers. Put the love of Jesus in us.” Something about Scott brought out the ex-military in me—the camaraderie, the way we spoke to each other.

“Shit, man, you can come and go. We aren’t some outfit that makes people drink the Kool-Aid. We have enough problems as it is. Besides, if someone wants to stay, they have to show that they are useful. Are you useful?”

That was a good question. I could strip and clean guns, I knew military tactics, and I was good at hand to hand combat, but having been out of the mix for four months meant I missed a lot of the action while I was stuck up in the cabin. The men and women around were much better zombie slayers than I was.

“I don’t know. I can fight, and I can teach people how to grab zombies behind the ears and drive their knees into their rotted faces.”

Another shot called out like a cannon blast, and I couldn’t help but jump, but so did Scott. We looked at each other and grinned.

“Target practice.” He pointed at the guy with the hunting rifle plastered to his chest on top of the truck. “The stupid things must be able to smell us. A few wander by every day, so we take them out. No sense in letting a bunch of dead fucks loose.”

“Ever see any of the guys with green eyes?”

“Nah, they’re too smart. They come out at night, and only when they have an army behind them. But we have a lot of firepower, and we’re well protected, so they stay away.” He sounded convinced of this. After what I saw in town, I wasn’t so sure.

“How many other communities are set up like this?”

“A few. We know where they are, and we trade stuff sometimes, but we remain autonomous. There isn’t a lot of mixing. Maybe it’s a trust issue. You’d think at the end of the world people would start trusting each other again.”

I nodded. The kid was doing pretty well with the gun, but he was jerking the barrel up with each shot. I watched and wondered how much ammo they had to spare that they could do target practice.

“You set for ammo?”

“We have enough for now, but it won’t last forever. We got a guy who keeps track of all the rounds. He could tell you more. Why?”

“Because the Walmart might have some ammo. I don’t think they could carry out the massive stock pile. They’re in a big metal cage in the center of the store. I know how to get at them.”

“They gonna give the stuff up for free? I doubt that.”

He didn’t know.

“They left almost a week ago. The place is empty now. They might have buttoned up and left some supplies. We should make a run before someone else does.”

“Why are they gone?” He looked confused, but he also looked like he was calculating, thinking of what a boon that would be, then his face clouded. “See, I like you, Erik. You seem like the kind of guy that says stuff straight up. I can respect that, especially in the new world. But it is kinda suspicions that you show up and want to lead us to an armed compound.”

Oh.

“You have the wrong idea, Scott. I wouldn’t dream of it, but I see why you would be suspicious. You can go with me, and we can scout it out. I was at the store for a while, but they bugged out, headed for Portland. Did you hear an explosion about a week ago?”

“Yeah, it shook the ground. We thought a nuke had gone off somewhere. I know it sounds stupid, but being cut off means we gotta rely on what we see and hear, and that was a ways off, so we automatically feared the worst.”

“That was me and Katherine setting off the distraction, so a caravan could get out of town and drive to Portland. We rolled a gas truck away from the Walmart and made a lot of noise until the things were all around us. One of our friends died, but we managed to get to my car and make our escape before the truck went up. We probably took out about a hundred of those bastards.”

“Huh.”

“Then we hightailed it back to my little corner of the world—a cabin up in the hills. We hid out until we were found by those fuckers with green eyes.”

He nodded, but he was suspicious. He didn’t have to say a thing; I could tell by the way his brows drew together. How would I feel in his shoes? Would I just trust someone who showed up and claimed to know things about outside events? I wouldn’t; no one in their right mind would. And why did I care anyway? These guys were doing just fine without my help. They had built a small fortified city here. They didn’t need me.

“We really do need to follow our friends back to Portland. Maybe in a day or two. I have a bunch of guns back in the car. Maybe I could give you one for your hospitality.”

“What can always use more ammo especially with guys like Junior there getting in some practice.”

I thought of the rounds we had left behind during the escape. We did have a few boxes of shells, but I needed to hang onto those if we were going to be on our own soon. Then again, without these folks, Katherine would be in pretty bad shape. It would be nice to go back and get more from the store, but I would need to convince them. Maybe a show of goodwill would help.

“I’ll give you a hundred rounds of seven point six two,” I said, watching his eyes. He knew what that was all right, and he nodded.

“We can use it.”

“Great. Now look. Why don’t you go with me? Just a scouting mission, and if it looks too dangerous, we’ll head back. No fuss, no muss. Katherine is here just in case.”

“We don’t take prisoners, man.”

“Fine, then she stays here as an ambassador of goodwill.”

He laughed at that and then, with a pat on my shoulder, he left and went into the house. I stood in the road a mile or so from my house and looked down the street. If I got to the other side of the barricade and I was extra cautious, I could be there in about fifteen minutes. I decided to take the chance, wanting to know how the neighborhood had fared.

I slid over one of the cars by jumping on the hood and then over the roof. A couple of men watched, but they didn’t try to stop me. My car started up easily, and I drove it off the road and onto the sidewalk, in front of an old Volkswagen van that was turned sideways. A wall of bricks was built up under the chassis so no one could get under it. It really did look like someone had driven over a low wall and left it. I could even pick out the mortar between the bricks.

After taking a couple of boxes of ammo from the car, I loaded my pants pockets with a couple of magazines, then strapped a beat-up Colt .45 under my arm. Once I slung the M-16 over my shoulder, I must have made a sight. If they really didn’t care about me coming and going, then I was going to do both.

I stared down the road in the opposite direction of the barrier, watching a pair of rotting creatures shamble across a four-way intersection. One turned to regard me, and then veered off. The other kept going. It was about twenty-five yards away, or so I surmised. I swung the assault rifle up to the crook of my shoulder and took aim. While I wanted a headshot, I would settle for the neck. It seemed like a shot to anywhere near the brainstem or brainpan stopped those things in their tracks. A shot to the body just forced them to fall over, and they’d just get back up. I had yet to nail one of the guys with glowing eyes.

Flipping the safety off without looking at it, I exhaled and stroked the trigger. The shot echoed around me as it left the barrel. It struck just off center, and a puff of pink and gray mist exploded outward, then the thing dropped in its tracks. It fell to its knees, toppling backwards like a puppet with no strings attached. The other zombie paused in mid-step, turned to look at its companion, then dropped to all fours and went for its ex-buddy. She took a huge chunk of cheek in her mouth, ripping upward. I struggled to keep my stomach calm while I fired again. The second one fell forward, and they lay there like lovers.

Mission complete, I headed back the way I had come.

“Nice shootin’, Tex,” one of the men called out. He was older, gray around the temples, and had a pair of thick glasses on. Licking his lips, he spit to one side.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think you killed the second one. It’s still twitching.”

I looked back, and sure enough, the other was trying to move one hand away from her body, like she was crawling under barbed wire. Putting the ammo on the ground, I slid over one of the cars—a red Ford that looked to be at least twenty years old. I took to the street, which was bathed in pale light thanks to the early morning sun. It was red and pink where it bounced off clouds. I was reminded of an old saying from my father: Red in the morning, sailors take warning.

The only red I was about to see was blood.

Over the last few months, I had faced a number of these things and walked away unscathed. I fought them with guns, knives, and even hand to hand. They had been faceless monsters that I killed with impunity. I had slaughtered them—there was no other way to put it. These monsters that used to be men and women but were now mindless killing machines.