Authors: Sean Schubert
Tags: #postapocalyptic, #apocalypse, #Plague, #Zombies, #living dead, #walking dead, #outbreak, #infection, #world war z
Neil said, “I guess we’re here. Let’s see if we can get ourselves into the chalet. It’ll probably be warmer in there and I think we can bring one of those trash cans upstairs to light a fire on the balcony.”
“And burn what?” Emma snapped, her voice irritated.
Neil said without a pause, as if he was accustomed to the attitude, “Wood. What else?”
Emma looked away toward the tree line, which sat a fair distance from the chalet and asked, this time as much as a bark as actual speech, “You expectin’ one of us to gather wood from over there? There’s no knowing what’s out there, is there? We don’t know what’s out here at all.”
She was right. He was assuming gathering wood or any other once mundane task continued to be so. He couldn’t allow complacency to cloud his judgment. Was he willing to go in there to retrieve wood? There was no telling what dangers were waiting behind the trees. His casual assumptions could have cost a life.
He felt that familiar chill slither down the length of his spine and curl under, tickling his testicles into retracting for safety. They could just get inside and hope the closed windows and doors would be enough to keep them relatively warm through the night. It wouldn’t be snug, but they could probably make do. He tried to imagine the dark stillness of the woods but was stung with the wretched memory of his closest encounter with one of the zekes. It had held him close enough for Neil to be able to smell the stench of death clinging to its clothes and lurking on its wet, rotten breath. In the dense woods, it was unlikely Jerry would be able to deliver the same quality shot from his hunting rifle as he had on that occasion. Jerry’s precision was all that saved Neil that day not long ago. He physically shook as the next wave of chills coiled itself around his spine. How could he expect anyone to do what he himself was too terrified to do?
He was about to say as much when Dr. Caldwell said, “I can go. Malachi, you’re a hunter right? Familiar with the woods? How about lending a hand? Maggie, you’ve got room in your backseat. Can you bring your car a little closer so we can load it up? It’d make it so that we could bring enough wood to last us through the night. It’s going to be bad enough, no point in freezing if we don’t have to. You in?”
Malachi looked at Maggie and both nodded hesitantly.
Dr. Caldwell smiled and said as soothingly as his bedside manners training would allow, “Look, Maggie, you don’t even have to get out of the car. You just wait inside your locked car and keep the engine running if you’d like. When we come out, unlock the back door so that we can pile the wood in. Malachi and I will keep an eye out for one another while we’re out of sight. It’ll only be a few minutes. Believe me, I don’t want to be in there any longer than we need. It’ll be okay. Trust me.”
Jerry was reminded of all the jokes in which politicians, attorneys, or even used car salesmen used that phrase. Trust me. He was able to stifle his chuckle, but decided to step away just to be safe. He and his hunting rifle found their way into the now opened doors of the chalet. He went out onto the second floor balcony, looking out over the sloped open field immediately to the north of the building. With the rifle raised to his shoulder, he peered through his hunter’s scope. He was amazed at the clarity of the images as they appeared to him through the magnifying lenses. As opposed to an indistinguishable line of trees, he was able to pick out specific trees and branches. He could read Maggie’s license plate as clearly as if he was standing next to the car: HLYRLR.
And then it hit him. “Holy roller. Jesus, this lady is a freak.”
He watched the three of them drive down the path leading away from the parking lot. At the base of the winding driveway, they stopped abruptly. He didn’t much like watching the good doctor disappear into the woods, but he had to admit that having some distance between Maggie, Malachi and himself made him much more comfortable. He’d seen and heard Malachi’s disconnect and agreed with Neil that Maggie was hiding something. She’d avoided directly answering any questions and seemed to only be telling partial stories that served her own ends. What she had said, though, was enough for him to be wary of her both coming and going.
Dr. Caldwell had always thought of the woods as a quiet place. On that afternoon, it was as silent and as peaceful as a crypt. The forest was made up of narrow, white barked birch trees with equally thin limbs and branches still holding tight fisted to the small leaves starting to show all of their colorful autumn personality. Mixed in amongst these trees were their taller, fuller cousins, wearing thick conical coats of fragrant green needles. A few birds here and there chortled lightly, but there were no songs; only avian warnings shared well above the two men’s heads. The quiet was at once menacing and comforting.
The two men walked side-by-side, their feet crunching an uncomfortably loud marching tune in the drying foliage. They had no tools to cut anything down, so they were relying on whatever scraps the forest floor had to offer. They walked solidly for several minutes before Dr. Caldwell finally said, “Okay, that’s far enough. Let’s find us some wood and get the hell outta here. Maggie’s likely to get spooked and leave us in a lurch out here if we’re not careful.”
“She wouldn’t leave us,” Malachi said defensively. “Maggie’s no coward.”
“And she’s no fool either. If she gets to thinkin’ that we ran into trouble, she could just think it wiser to go back to the chalet or just hightail it outta here altogether. It’s really got nothing to do with being brave or cowardly. It’s a survival response. The whole fight or flight mentality kicking in, and sometimes we can’t control it.”
Malachi didn’t know if he agreed with the doctor, but he appreciated that the man was speaking to him like he was an equal. It was the first show of respect he’d seen from anyone in a long time. It felt nice and made him feel like he was important.
He watched the doctor gather handfuls of sticks into his arms clumsily until, trying to pick up the last small branch he could reach, the doctor dropped most of what he was carrying. Malachi smiled for a moment and felt really good.
He went over to the doctor and motioned for him to stop. Malachi sifted through the collections of branches and dried twigs until he found a long, thin, and still partially green branch that was slightly longer than all the rest and set it aside. He then piled most of what the doctor had collected atop the lone twig but turned them so as to be perpendicular to it, forming a close approximation of a plus sign. “Now watch,” he said. He found both ends of the twig under the rest and pulled these ends together until he could fashion them into a knot. He was left with a good-looking bundle of wood that made it easier to carry larger amounts of fuel for the fire.
They worked out a system in which the doctor gathered the wood while Malachi bundled it. They only spent a few minutes, but they were able to gather four very large armfuls of wood. With the wood bundles clutched under each of their arms, the two men ran out of the woods toward Maggie’s car.
At first Maggie was worried. They looked like they were running so fast. Was something following them? She started the car with a single thought suddenly coming to her.
Is this the moment?
Then she realized that there wasn’t anything on their trail and that they were just excited about their haul of wood. She unlocked the door as they approached and they tossed in the wood, turned and ran back toward the woods.
They quickly got back into the routine. Dr. Caldwell tried to find better-sized pieces of wood this time, but even the most mature trees were still only a scant few inches in diameter. The pickings were slim, literally. He was walking over with one of several armloads of wood when Malachi suddenly shot up and stood stock-still. Dr. Caldwell followed the other man’s lead and froze in mid-stride, his eyes widening when he realized why Malachi had stopped. He had heard something. Maybe he was seeing something too.
Dr. Caldwell was finding it difficult to control his breathing, especially when he heard a not too distant crunch. He hadn’t moved and he was pretty certain that Malachi hadn’t either. There was something else out here with them. His mouth was suddenly a desert experiencing a drought. He couldn’t swallow, which made his breathing even more desperate and loud.
Malachi reached to his holster and drew his pistol. The doctor was still too stunned to move. He prayed to himself,
please let Malachi shoot straight
.
There was another crunch, this one even closer, then there were several more. Dr. Caldwell felt nauseous, a horrible burning rising in the back of his throat.
When Malachi lowered his weapon into a firing stance, Dr. Caldwell was ready to break into a sprint if only he could remove the concrete blocks that seemed to be affixed to both of his feet. He wanted to move, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t even drop the sticks that were lying across both of his outstretched arms.
When the moose appeared from behind one of the robust fir trees and sauntered past them, both men were silent at first. It was Dr. Caldwell who laughed first but Malachi was quick to follow. Dr. Caldwell dropped his load of wood. “I think this is about enough, don’t you? If it doesn’t last through the night, well so be it. I’ve had about enough of the woods for one afternoon. How about you?”
Malachi, putting his pistol back in its holster, nodded and, still laughing, said, “I just about peed my pants. Damned moose probably knew what he was up to. Just messing with us. But yeah, let me get these ready to move and we can get outta here.”
Back up at the chalet just a few minutes later, Malachi’s description of the doctor’s face and his own intense fear of the moose solicited roaring laughter. The mood for the rest of the afternoon was light and pleasant. Everyone’s bellies were full and the sun was warm. Without the terror that still lurked in the city waiting to pounce, it would have been a very nice day for all of them; a teasing reminder of how things had been…before. It was a relief for all of them to momentarily forget the sorrow and the loss that had gripped all of their lives so tightly these past few weeks.
As night descended and the temperature dropped with the setting of the sun, the bundles of wood that Malachi and Dr. Caldwell had collected were combined with pieces of wooden furniture found throughout the chalet to make a pair of warm fires around which they all gathered. To most of them, it wasn’t much different than camping. They talked about mundane memories and even shared jokes with one another, trying to keep the laughter flowing whenever possible.
It was very late—or very early, depending upon one’s perspective—when Jerry woke Neil. Jerry had agreed to work the latest watch shift and Claire had elected to keep him company. They were standing next to the lone metal trashcan that still had a fire burning in it when Claire looked at Jerry and asked, “Can you hear that?”
Jerry suddenly realized that he could, but it was that same sound that he felt as much in his chest as he did in his ears. They weren’t alone. He squinted and struggled to pierce the night, but the darkness was impenetrable.
Jerry whispered, “They’re out there but I can’t see a thing.”
“Do you really think it’s them?” Claire asked.
“Yeah, it’s them. Either they’re not that close yet or there’re only a handful out there.”
“You some kind of a pro or something? You’ve lived through an apocalypse before have you?”
“No. But I’d guess you to be about what...nineteen?”
“Exactly nineteen. Is it that obvious? And what the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“We’ve got a working theory that their moans, when heard in small numbers, vibrate at a frequency that affects ears in different ways depending upon the age of the listener. You’ve got young ears so you can hear it. Me too, but I bet most of the others can’t. Not yet anyway.”
She looked at him quizzically, doubtfully. She was set to ask him about his theory when Danny appeared and asked, “They’re here aren’t they?” He was massaging his chest and making a face like he was suffering a very bad case of heartburn.
Jerry said, “Good timing, kid.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Yeah, I think you’re right. I was trying to figure out how many and how far off they were. Can you go get Neil?”
Neil was outside in an instant, still wiping sleep from his eyes. Meghan, of course, was fast on his heels. “What’s up? Kid says we might have some zekes out there.”
“Yeah, they’re out there.”
“How many do you think?”
Danny answered this time, “There’s just a couple out there and I think they’re still out on the road but they’re getting closer.”
Jerry added, “If we wait too long, like, let’s say, until dawn, they’re going to draw more of them to us.”
Meghan, just catching up to the conversation, asked, “What are we talking about here?”
Neil said, “Jerry’s right. We gotta deal with them now. No fucking around and nothing fancy. They’re not clever. They’ll just come right at us if we bait them a little.”
Danny suggested, “We could use the car headlights. It might even blind them a bit. Slow ‘em down maybe.”
Jerry and Neil nodded, congratulating Danny on a good idea. It was definitely time to get everyone up and moving, just in case. This was going to take everyone’s help.