The Book of a Few (18 page)

“
But we could save
his
life. He didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, he helped us,” Branden said. He turned to Dana. “We may have made a mistake with how we handled Bruce. But you’re right. We can’t just tell Thomson ‘Sorry about Bella. Also, we killed your brother.’ I vote we just let him do his thing. He can search all he wants, and we can hope he doesn’t get killed.”

Honestly, Branden’s final answer surprised me. He and Thomson have a lot in common; they have both watched someone they care about die and have another missing. I would think he would have sympathized with Thomson a little more.

“
Bruce is right outside our door; Thomson is not going to find him. One of us should just sit out on the roof just in case he swings by,” Branden added.

Even though I do not enjoy going back on a promise I have made, Branden does have a point. We could do what Dana suggested and just state that we were unable to come, which is excusable to an extent. Thomson won’t find anything, and we’ll still be friends as long as he doesn’t die.

“
I just,” I said, sighing, “I don’t think that’s right.” The others looked at me like I was a child. “I know, it’s not like I have a choice. I can’t just leave by myself. But, damn, this doesn’t sit well.”

“
Yeah, I know,” Taylor said as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “But it’ll be all right, Chester. Promise.”

I nodded to Taylor, and walked through the guys and headed into the Warehouse. My stomach was growling, so I headed straight for the fridge and picked a few things out for myself. That’s when I noticed that certain areas of the Warehouse are starting to smell. Some of the perishable foods are getting worse, and a few items are inedible at this point. We’re wasting food, in my opinion. We could be feeding a starving family right now instead of hoarding it for ourselves. Part of the reason we didn’t offer Thomson and the others a tour around the building is because we are afraid that someone may catch wind of this place and rob us. Hospital’s got a good number of people in there, and they could probably use the food. Hell, everyone could.

I know I’ve probably said this before, but we are really lucky to be here. By some off chance, we managed to get here before anyone else had occupied the building. Yeah, there were those people stealing from the building, but it wasn’t a large, deadly force. I occasionally get worried about our ability to keep it. There are only six of us who can fire a gun (not including Joey, considering his condition), so we couldn’t fight off any large party that was determined to take it from us. My thoughts of today end on this note: We still need more people.

I don’t really have a lot to write about today. We were originally going to go look for Branden’s son, Christian, but with Thomson out looking for Bruce today, it would be best to stay at the Warehouse. We didn’t want to risk crossing paths with him, which would be an awkward situation. The search for Christian has been rescheduled for tomorrow. We’re going to search a few locations that we think are the most likely for people to gather together in. There’s a church close by Branden’s home, the recreation center, and pretty much every place that seems large enough.

Found something of interest in the freezer today: a dead body. I was in there perusing its contents in search of some frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when I spotted a body hanging in a crane aisle. In fact, this is the same aisle that we found Joey in. Funny thing is, we aren’t able to remove the body without risking falling ourselves. It appears to be caught by its clothing and is suspended over twenty feet in the air. If I were to guess, I’d say that the hanging body was infected when it died, and it was chasing Joey. It would explain how Joey might have fallen to the ground level. Accidents happen, I suppose.

Spent some time with Taylor today. I enjoyed it. It was nice to finally get some time to just relax and talk. We aren’t quite as close as we used to be, but it was easy enough to spark up a conversation. We talked about the video games we used to play, which ones had the best storylines and whatnot. He brought up cigarettes, which made me want one, and I answered a few questions he had about his shooting posture. All in all, it was fun to talk with him.

Will asked me what I thought of Dana, and I kind of beat around the bush on that one. I’m uncertain really. He may do things for us, but the exact
value
of those things is debatable. I understand that with Bruce he may have just been looking out for us, but he pressured me into doing something I’m not proud of and that was in all likelihood entirely unnecessary. That’s the second time Dana has proven that he is a manipulator. I just can’t get over what’s happened, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

Well, I have nothing else to say. I’m surprisingly tired, considering I didn’t do much today.

Dear Bill,

I know I left without you, but you can’t be surprised. I understand that you’re busy, but I couldn’t wait for you any longer. Every day that passed by, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the day they would die. But I found them…they’re dead. I don’t know what to do with myself. Yeah, I have you and the hospital, and I’m sure the C.V.P.M. would take me in and train me like you said. I’m just having a hard time right now. Don’t be mad, but I don’t want to live. I know that more thought should be given, so that’s what I am going to do. I’m going to go back to my store in the morning; I left some things there last time and I’m low on ammo. I wouldn’t be able to make it back to the hospital right now anyway. Then I’ll go to that warehouse west of there and get some food. It’ll give me time to think, but no promises. Take care of yourself, Bill. Keep fighting. I hope you find this letter, and I know someday your sacrifices will pay off.

With love from your brother,,

Bruce

Yesterday, I wrote how we were planning on looking for Branden’s kid. Well, we did. But we started the day off in search of a vehicle. We wanted to find something that was utilitarian in nature and that all of us could fit in easily. A truck would serve this purpose well, but we eventually changed our mind to a cargo van. In a cargo van, not everyone would be belted in, so it would be risky if we ever got into an accident. It would be capable of moving just about anything a truck could, and it would be slightly more apocalypse friendly. If we ever had to flee, we would have the ability to shoot out the back much easier than we could from a truck. The idea of lying in the bed out in the open does not sound intelligent; I don’t want to be bucked onto the street.

Taylor, Branden, Dana, and I left the Warehouse mid-morning. Will wanted a day off, so we left him to guard the Warehouse and the others. We figured that a good place to start our search would either be a gas station, a hardware store, or any place that used to rent out utility vehicles. Our first stop was a gas station near the shopping area we had gone to numerous times. While it didn’t have any vehicles in the parking lot, we piddled about inside the store.

I noticed an abandoned pack of cigarettes in a corner. The pack was green, a signal that they were menthol, which is also my personal favorite. I bent over, picked it up, and proceeded to shake the small box to hear if there were any left inside. To my own surprise, there were two cigarettes left, and needless to say, I rejoiced. I showed them to Taylor.

“
Hell yeah!” Taylor squealed. We both laughed, a little too loud perhaps.

Even though menthol is not his favorite, he did not complain. We had both been craving a smoke for a number of days now. With only two cigarettes in the pack, I gave one of them to Taylor. In the middle of our exclamations of “fuck yeah” and high fives, we realized that we had attracted some unwanted attention.

Two infected men that were walking about across the street had heard us. They replied to our yelling with grunting of their own as they began running toward us. All of us quickly readied ourselves. Branden took post at the doorway with his axe in hand, just in case Taylor, Dana, or I were unable to shoot them.

Taylor shot out one of the windows first. Mid-step, the flesh eater’s body lost all strength and blood began to pour from the bullet holes of the buckshot that had peppered his face. Dana fired afterward with Bruce’s revolver. Dana missed the first few times, and was unable to hit the second zombie in as dazzling a display as Taylor. He was, however, able to gut-shot the remaining infected. The creature fell to the ground and approached us in a slow crawl for a few more paces. Branden stepped out of the gas station and finished it off by beheading it with a swing of his axe.

The whole situation seemed fine and dandy until four more infected burst out from the back of the gas station. They whipped their heads about, hunting for the source of our gunshots. The first infected suddenly stopped and caused one of the others to trip over him. The infected flopped and toppled into a stand, sending the porcelain coffee cups that rested there to the floor. That was when we realized we were not alone in the store.

“
Branden!” I shouted, getting his attention. I instructed the group, “Move!”

We jumped out the blown-out windows and took off down the street. As we sprinted, Dana trailing in the rear, we came to realize how many infected were in the area today. Each building we passed by grabbed the attention of more madmen. The group following us gradually grew bigger. Dana began gaining distance from the rest of us, and losing distance between himself and the tailing infected.

Dana began desperately firing his gun behind him in hopes of hitting a few. While he did kill some, he gained the attention of even more. I didn’t have the time to count, but at this point, we probably had at least fifteen running after us. It was obvious that we were not going to be able to simply outrun them, or at least Dana wouldn’t. While the others were yelling at Dana to hurry, an inhumane thought crossed my mind:
Shoot his legs.
If we sacrificed Dana, most of the infected would stay behind to consume his dying body, thereby leaving the rest of us with only a few to deal with. But I quickly rejected the thought.

With no better ideas, we turned to our left and approached a large home-improvement and hardware store. We dashed into the lumberyard out front in an endeavor to find a place to disappear. We weaved in and out of the rows of stacked wood, trying to lose the infected, but also hoping that Dana would be able to follow us through the maze. I began to feel fatigued when I spotted a side door into the store and ran for it. I shouted for the others to get in. Branden and Taylor went inside and began checking the immediate area for any other threats.

“
Dana!” I yelled with my gun pressed to my shoulder, “Follow my voice!”

I stopped for a moment to listen. I heard heavy breathing, grunting, and occasionally a knocking noise of someone crashing into a pile of lumber. Two more gunshots rang through the air. A moment passed and Dana appeared from a different area than we did. The horde, now immediately behind him, reached out to pull him in. I took a risk and aimed my sights right next to Dana, and shot at the infected I felt was the biggest risk to him. I struck the zombie squarely, dropping him in a frenzy of convulsions. To my surprise, a second zombie immediately behind the first also fell to the ground.

Dana rushed past me, panting like a dog. I didn’t bother to cycle my bolt; my biggest concern was getting the door in between them and me. I followed immediately behind Dana with only seconds to spare. The infected pounded on the metal door the moment it shut. We were lucky, that’s for sure.

Inside, Branden and Taylor confirmed that the room we were in was empty. The air in the room was stale and lacked circulation. A mini-fridge and a microwave sat on a fake granite countertop that ran along one wall. Tables and chairs were tipped and pushed against walls. While the single empty vending machine made the room seem desolate and abandoned, muddy footprints on the ground said otherwise.

We didn’t know what we were getting into, but we couldn’t go back. Taylor put his hand on the knob of the door leading further into the store. He sighed while he prepared himself mentally and repositioned his gun on his shoulder with his free hand. He slowly pushed the door open, revealing the interior of the store to be cast in darkness. The only lighting inside was the glass entrance doors, through which the sun shined, and a small, distant corner of the store where the fluorescent lighting was still working.