Running with the Horde (14 page)

             
It is fair to say that keeping each other warm became our favorite and most frequent activity during the period of time we shared my house. I never did have to sleep on the couch. The bed built for one was just fine for me and Daisy.

             
I would never accuse Daisy of being a great conversationalist. She didn’t really talk unless she had to. We didn’t have much in common but physically we couldn’t get enough of each other. I couldn’t help but fall in love with her a little. She was a hell of a lover and a great worker, which I discovered as we spent days fortifying the barricades and making the house as secure as possible.

Chapter 26

“Zombies in the Mist”

             
I was sort of living a double life while I was playing house with Daisy. It started out innocent enough. I explained to her that I need to keep checking out the houses in the neighborhood for supplies. She was incredulous at first because we had such an abundance of goods. She did whatever she could to keep me from leaving the first few days.

             
Eventually, she came to see it my way when she realized I could basically get her anything she wanted if I could find it, including a couple of large barrels we could use for bathing. That was definitely a large selling point.

             
She also knew first hand that while it wasn’t safe for her beyond the walls of our house, for some reason it was safe for me.

             
One of my neighbors had an almost new minivan. I found it undisturbed in their garage with a full tank of gas. The keys were in the house. We cleared out all the seats except the front two which left me with a decent vehicle to haul things in. So each morning, once Daisy had signed off and given me her list of ‘needs’ I would make sure she was safely locked inside. Then I armed myself and headed out to brave the streets to see what I could find. The first day I ventured out was windy and overcast and looked like it could snow.

             
In addition to Daisy’s list, I also had my own agenda. There were three things on it. I wanted to scout for signs of other living people with a particular concern for anyone from two specific camps I’d spent time at.

             
I wanted to see if Daisy would be safe in the house without me. Specifically, would she be safe from zombies.

             
Lastly, I was curious to see how deep my connection was to the undead. I wanted answers and with no one to ask I was going to have to get them myself.

             
In short, I became the Dian Fossey of zombies. 

             
They had allowed me passage on a few rather desperate occasions now. All such occasions had been in large crowds of the undead. They hadn’t harmed Daisy when she was with me though I got the sense they had wanted to. They let me push them individually over the ladder into the Rose Hill camp.

             
It was also possible they had removed the bodies from my lawn, obeying some command I didn’t even realize I had given. On that one I wasn’t sure and it wasn’t like I could ask one of them. But it felt right.

             
The whole concept of my interactions with the zombies was baffling to me. Twice, I remembered when I could physically feel energy emanating from them like static electricity before a powerful thunderstorm. That had left me confused and scared.

             
There was so much I just didn’t understand. Aside from the day Roland and my neighbors died, I hadn’t seen them interact with other living people. I didn’t have enough data to even make an educated guess as to why they didn’t try to eat me and occasionally even granted me safe passage through their ranks.

             
Around my neighborhood, the wind whipped leaves and loose garbage across lawns and streets. I drove by small groups of walking dead here and there and a few solo stragglers as well.

             
They would start in my direction at the noise of the engine but lose interest quickly, presumably when they registered it was me. Their bodies seemed to be holding up pretty well after months of being dead. Their pallor was a sickly gray and many were very gross looking but some looked almost normal.

             
On those I could only tell they were infected from the mindless way they shuffled about, oblivious to the cold or wind. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for their actions when they weren’t actively chasing prey.

             
They just were.

             
I grew bored eventually and stopped the minivan on Long Lake Road near a group of ten standing listlessly in someone’s front yard. They seemed to be enjoying the lake view across the street. I got out and casually joined the group, hands in the pockets of my blue jeans. They looked at me a moment and resumed their lake vigil.

             
It was a pretty view I suppose but it got old after a few minutes. I wasn’t learning much from this exercise aside from proper zombie technique for staring at open bodies of water.

             
I almost gave up when movement caught my attention on the horizon over the lake. A large eagle swept in from the high pines in the park reserve on the south side of the lake. It made a graceful dive for the water.

             
The zombies snapped to attention and took a collective step forward as the eagle snatched a fish from the water and soared off out to the left. I felt it again, a pulsing energy that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

             
When the eagle disappeared from view the energy was gone and the zombies resumed their staring. I wondered how long they’d stood there waiting for a prize they could never catch.

             
They were stuck in a loop apparently. It had to be a pretty active forest area. Every time they saw something alive it kept them rooted in place hoping for a meal. It was an obvious conclusion but they were attracted to life, evidently it didn’t even have to be human.

             
Since I was out I looked through a few of the nearby houses hoping for something from Daisy’s list. I was able to find a few of the books she liked to read, westerns of all things.

             
It was starting to get dark so I headed for home. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone too long. When I got there the front porch was packed with zombies. They were pounding on the boards and on the door but hadn’t been able to get inside.

             
We had put a lot of hours in making our barricades strong. I hadn’t forgotten the lessons I learned from my neighbors during the summer.

             
Even so I imagined Daisy was shitting a brick in there. I was scared for her and trying not to panic as I hastily parked the minivan in the driveway. I elbowed my way to the door before turning back to them. They had all stopped and were staring at me.

             
Not knowing if it would work, I sent out a mental picture of the group a few miles away by the lake and said go.

             
They obeyed immediately like they were on a mission.

             
Only when the last of them disappeared around the street corner did I knock softly on the door and call out to Daisy to let me in.

             
“Did you know?” she screamed as she slapped my face and chest with both hands. “Did you know they would come?”

             
I endured this as long as I could before catching her wrists.

             
“Of course not,” I lied.

             
I sort of think I did know. I just wanted to be sure. We stood in the doorway until she had calmed down a little. She locked and barred the door behind us as soon as we were inside. The books I brought mollified her some and she disappeared upstairs after we ate a quick dinner.

             
I was dreading tomorrow when I had to tell her I was going out again. I fired up my grill in the backyard and heated up a gallon of water for a sponge bath. The wind kicked up again as I was toweling off. It howled long into the night as I snuggled in tight against Daisy. When I fell asleep I dreamed of eagles.

…

              The wind storm broke by dawn but I could see my little street had taken some casualties in the form of downed trees. One rather large oak had fallen into the street blocking access to Rice Creek Road. I wasn’t going anywhere by vehicle unless I did something about the tree.

             
Daisy started ignoring me when she realized I was getting dressed to go out. That was fine, the sight of the downed tree made me crabby anyway. I put on my winter coat and hat. I found my leather work gloves and boots and headed for the garage to see if I could start the chainsaw.

             
I purchased it a few years back and never used it. This would be the virgin run. I really didn’t even know how to run it but like everything else now it would be learn by doing.

             
I filled it with gas and managed to put the chain oil in the right hole and headed down the block on foot with the chainsaw in hand. I looked every bit the suburban moron playing at being a lumberjack.

             
The tree was a big old bastard. I was glad I’d purchased a large chainsaw. It took me a moment of squinting at the picture of the tortoise and the hare to figure out the choke procedure. I pushed on the little gas bubble six to ten times or until the bubble was full of gas.

             
Then I started yanking away on the ripcord like I was exercising to a Richard Simmons VHS tape.

             
I was out of breath and cussing a blue streak after a minute and ready to kill someone after ten minutes. I sat on the trunk of the tree to wipe the sweat out of my eyes. I looked back at the house to see Daisy on the porch enjoying the show. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or not but I figured she was, which did not improve my mood.

             
Suddenly she covered her mouth with her hands and dashed inside, slamming the door. I turned to find a few zombies had wandered in from wherever the hell they’d been to watch me. That just irritated me more.

             
I fiddled with the choke again and started pulling on the cord. The saw roared to life rather unexpectedly. It seemed to want to cut things without my guidance, like my leg for example which I narrowly avoided. When I finally got it under control and started cutting, I was amazed at how difficult it was. I cut the tree throughout the day stopping only to gas up and eat lunch.

             
By three o’clock that afternoon I was filthy, covered with sweat and saw dust. Moreover, I was exhausted and depressed looking at the gigantic number of logs strewn about the road. I would have to move and stack them in order to get a vehicle past. Meanwhile, the zombies continued to linger around me.

             
By now I was used to them and had no fear they would attack me. There were around thirty of them by this time. All just about as useful as a bucket of diarrhea. I moved my saw safely out of the way and walked over to the nearest log. It was huge. I had cut it too large. I was able to lift it but just barely. I got it over to the place I wanted it and let it drop to the ground with a solid thump.

             
I turned back to the street with a heart full of loathing for this fucking tree that had to fall in precisely this location. Just another pinch of salt on a wound that already had a full bottle of Morton’s dumped on it.

             
There was a truckload of pieces just like the first one waiting to be moved. I wanted to be doing literally anything else. I was beyond angry at this point as I looked from the wood to the zombies. I sort of had a screaming tantrum just then about the injustice of my life.

             
I stumbled over a log, grabbed a zombie by his shirt collar and locked eyes with him. I held his gaze and had a slap fight with his ass until I found his wallet in his back pocket. Turns out this poor bastard’s name was Kerry.

             
I explained very viciously to Kerry how angry I was at the situation and how I was thinking of picking up the chainsaw again and maybe venting a little. I asked Kerry if he got my drift. I was very sarcastic. If Kerry could have talked I am sure he would have said I was acting a little hostile. In any case he couldn’t talk and didn’t get my drift but he did stare at me.

             
I told Kerry how grateful I would be if he could simply move the wood out of the road and into a nice pile in my dead neighbor’s grass. I even demonstrated again how it should be done by moving another piece of wood and dropping it next to the first piece.

             
I turned to him and said, “Okay, Kerry, now it is your turn.” With that I gave him an exaggerated bow.

             
I jumped and fell on my ass when Kerry stepped forward, bent at the waist, picked up a log and delivered it to the pile. Then he went back for another. One by one the others joined in and were moving pieces of wood to the pile while I sat with my mouth open on the street.

             
What would’ve taken me another day, took thirty zombies about seven minutes. I sat there awash with the possibilities. How far could I take this? I scrambled to my feet. The zombies were focused on my every move.

             
I took a breath and began doing jumping jacks, stopping after I’d done a few.

             
“Now you do it,” I told them.

             
They did nothing. I repeated the exercise this time with my eyes closed. I imagined doing jumping jacks in my head as well. As I did this, I was momentarily confused when my mind lit up like a grid of lights on a radar screen.