Chapter 74- Inventory

"Lou?"  Is that you?  I grabbed his hand and climbed to my feet.  His grip was strong for his age, but his skin felt thin and fragile. I wondered how old he really was.  "I'm surprised to see you," I said, brushing the dirt off my jeans.  "I assumed most everyone was turned when the virus mutated." Lou scoffed and looked down at the pack of infected  below us, savagely but ineffectively tearing at the fence.  Did it frustrate them that we were so close, yet they were unable to grab us?  

"Don't know nuthin' 'bout no virus." Lou said with his usual plucky distemper.  "Jus' seen a whole lotta people dun up an lef without payin their bills."  He tossed me a bottled water and I guzzled it almost instantly. It wasnt cold, but it was wet, and it tasted much better than that flat soda I found in the van.  I wiped the remaining drops from my lips and crumpled the bottle.  Tossing it out into the crowd of zombies below us we watched it bounce off the head of a large balding zombie.  Lou sniggered and I thought I heard him say "bullseye" under his breath.  

I looked up at this wonderful, fascinating man.  He couldn't be younger than 60 years old, and his stubbly grey beard contrasted with the black watch cap he had pulled down to his eyebrows.  His silvery unkempt hair poked out from under the edges and by the smell I was pretty sure he hadn't showered in a month.  He seemed relaxed, as though the end of the world was just another tour in 'nam and he had it all figured out.  He didnt look hungry or thirsty either, which meant he was well stocked.  

"Lou, are my storage units..." I was almost afraid to ask.  I looked at him expectantly.  He nodded and gestured toward a ladder he had propped up against the side of the roof.  "Been watchin' that gol' dern truck drive circles round this place.  Figured it was only a matter of time before you ran out of gas.  If you'd pulled up to the front I'da just letchoo in." He spat on the roof and grabbed the top of the ladder, swinging his legs down over the edge onto the third rung.   I stood there for a second, realizing now that I could have avoided the danger of the past few hours.  "I didn't know you were even alive." I said, following him onto the ladder.  The air became instantly quieter as we slipped down between the insulated buildings and away from the clamor of the undead outside the fence.  "Most of the world's population has been transformed into the walking dead, so I naturally assumed you were the same." I said, reveling in the silence for a moment. 

The storage units around us were all open, much of their contents spread out in organized piles.  Old sofas, box spring and mattress sets, and bins of dusty books were sitting out in stacks.  "Taking inventory of your supplies?" I asked, a hint of accusation in my tone.  His sideways glance and downturned frown told me he didn't think it was my business.  We rounded the corner where one of my units sat and I saw boxes of MREs sitting open.  Nearly half the supply was gone, but I was so hungry I didn't care.  I raced to the boxes and grabbed the first packet I could.  Using my teeth to tear the chocolate colored vinyl, I removed a tan colored packet with the words "Turkey and Potatoes," on it.   I shoved it in my mouth and poured in half of the sauce, chewing frantically. 

I'd only been this hungry one other time in my life. I was fifteen and was going camping with my Boy Scout troop. We were working on our "50-miler" badge and it felt like we had been hiking for at least a year. To add insult to injury, it rained on us for the last several miles. By the time we arrived at our camp that evening it had been dark for several hours and I was so tired that I didn't even eat, I just collapsed into bed and slept for eight hours.  The next morning our scout leaders woke us with an all we could eat bacon, eggs, and pancake breakfast, and I swear I ate a whole pig myself.  I smiled as I remembered the taste of bacon but was so hungry that I didn't care that my turkey has the consistency of rubber cement and the sauce had hints of turpentine.  After eating three full meals, I collapsed into a folding camp chair sitting next to a tower of bottled water.  

"You didn't think I was coming back, did you Lou?" I asked, patting the water stack next to me.  "So you've been feasting on my supplies." Lou looked at me blankly."Thems doors was closed until a week ago" he said, looking me right in the eyes.  "I didn't touch it till she got here."  

Chapter 73- Scramble

I turned the key, hoping there was enough to get me started and over to the gate.  The engine tried and tried, but wouldn't turn over.  My stomach rumbled in sympathy.  Now we were both empty.  I looked to my left at the eight foot chain link fence surrounding the storage facility.  The answers to all my problems lay inside.

Turning to look out the rear of the van I could see the horde of infected walkers approaching steadily. Some limped, others crawled, but all hissed and snarled, determined to get to the only food in blocks... Me.  I leaped into the back of the van and looked around for useful items before I abandoned the vehicle.  I emptied the pockets of the tool belt, replacing the measuring tape, spool of marking chalk, and the square with a flashlight, a pair of bolt cutters, and a small pry bar.  I slid the two hammers back into the metal loops and unhooked it from the wall.  Wrapping it around my waist I connected the buckle in front and pulled it tight.  Apparently whoever used this van before me was a lot larger.  

I felt the van lurch to one side and the pounding of fists echo through the interior.  Turning to look out the back window I saw dead faces pounding on the rear of the van, desperate to obtain their goal.  Their hands beat forcefully on the glass, and I wondered how long I had before they found a way inside.  

I climbed back up to the front seat to climb out the passenger door but was met with two others pounding on the window there, and another joining them on the driver's side.  My options were dwindling rapidly as the van began rocking back and forth violently.  I climbed back into the rear and weighed my options.  As the van rocked back and forth the last remaining boxes fell from the shelves onto the floor.  A box of nails crashed to the ground, sending metal flying in all directions.  A flash of green rolled from the back of the shelf to the rail along the edge.  A can of cheap lemon lime soda, unopened.  I grabbed it in gleeful desperation, cracking it open and slurping the contents.  It was hot and flat, but it was wet, and I felt renewed energy flowing through my body.  

Staying in the back I reached up to the steering wheel, using the handle of my hammer to push on the horn.  I hestiated...  How loud would this be?  I wanted to attract the ones in back away from the rear doors, but couldn't afford to attract the mega horde swarming the gas station only a few blocks away. Instead I hit the metal roof with the head of the hammer. The sharp rap echoed through the van, and I could see the infected outside buzzing like a mass of angry hornets.  I hammered toward the front, glancing back to see the group behind move forward.  Only one or two remained, pounding on the glass of the rear doors.  I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer, then lunged toward the back.  

Flipped the handle I burst out into the street, the doors pushing the few remaining zombies onto their backs.  I didn't wait to see if the pack was following, I sprinted, full out, toward the fence.  My tool belt rattled loudly and I put my hands over the pockets to keep the contents from falling out.  Lunging with my might I reached for the top of the fence and scrambled up the side, pushing my toes into the fence, desperately trying to find footing.   My left toe found a rung and I pushed up, giving me just enough leverage to heft my stomach onto the top of the fence.  Suddenly I felt a hand around my ankle and a sharp tug.  Glancing down I saw a tall, ugly zombie with a scraggly beard and black teeth.  His yellow, encrusted eyes stared up at me menacingly as he snarled and an awful gargle emanated from his throat. Several others were close behind him, and beyond that, the entire pack of over 20 infected.  They limped and surged, moving like a tidal wave toward me.  I kicked my leg, trying to break his hold, but his fingers dug hard into my leg.  Were it not for my jeans he surely would have pierced my skin.  I kept a firm hold on the fence, using my weight of my torso as leverage to keep me from falling back into the growing crowd.  With my free leg I kicked hard, missing his face by inches.  I kicked again and felt my toe glance off his forehead.  He shuddered but did not release me.  A second set of hands wrapped around my ankle and I felt a wave of panic flow through me.  Suddenly a shot rang out into the air and felt the grip loosen.  I pulled my leg up quickly, pouring my body over the fence and onto the roof of the storage facility.  Footsteps approached, but the figure was silhouetted against the fading sun.  I held my hand to my eyes, trying to see the identity of my savior.  They had a small frame, a rifle over one shoulder, and extended a hand toward me.  "It's you," I heard a familiar voice say.  "Figured you'd get here eventually."

Chapter 71- Roundabout

I could see SafeT Storage up ahead.  Rows and rows of aluminum gleamed in the sun behind tall chain link fence.  The fence appeared to be intact, which meant there was a good chance that my unit would be untouched.  My stomach rumbled as I imagined lifting the bright orange door to reveal stacks of bottled water and cans of food.

I rounded the corner and stamped on the brakes.  The street ahead of me was littered with the walking dead.  Zombies shambled aimlessly from one side of the street to the other, not really avoiding each other but keeping an even distance.  If I was some sort of anthropologist I might be fascinated by this behavior and have a desire to study their movements, understand their culture...  I was not a scientist.

I slammed on the gas and felt the van pull forward.  The sudden jolt sent tools crashing from the shelves and into the back of the van.  I pushed the accelerator to the floor, aiming directly for a group of three walkers standing right in front of the gate.  One was a short woman wearing a white blouse.  Her face was scorched and blistered, probably from standing out in the sun for days.  Her hair was short and ruffled, as though she had been changed while taking a nap on the couch.  Her blank face held no expression as the hood of the van plowed through her torso, and I watched as her body sloughed off to the side like a rag doll.

I veered a bit to the right to catch the second of the three, a tall tanned man with spiky jet black hair. He wore a flat brimmed cap and an expression of dull surprise, which didn't seem to change even as the bumper crunched his knees and sent his skull crashing onto the hood.  His thick congealed blood popped out of him like a squashed bug and I watched as one hand instinctively grasped one of the wiper blades.  He lifted his head and snarled, his blank expression now replaced with one of rage and hunger, and used a free hand to pound furiously on the windshield.

I swerved away from the third in an attempt to strip my attacker off my hood, but he held fast, relentlessly attacking the glass.  I glanced in my side view mirror and saw the rest of the infected walkers eagerly pursuing me.  I would need to lose them all before attempting to gain entrance to the facility.  I slammed on the brakes and saw the monster on my hood slip downward, the wiper blade bending under his weight.  I spun the wheel to the left, swinging the bottom side of his body toward the right corner of the van, and pushed on the gas.  I felt his leg catch under the wheel and I pushed hard on the gas.  His body was pulled downward, under the van and I felt the sickening crunch of bones and rotten flesh.  Glancing in the rear view I saw a leg roll out from underneath the van, thick black liquid oozing from where it had been severed.  The rest of him was probably still under the vehicle, either stuck like a plastic bag under a semi truck on the freeway, or purposefully clinging to some mechanical part in the hopes that an opportunity will present itself to grab my ankles.    

I shook my head, desperately trying to concentrate.  My stomach was rumbling almost uncontrollably, and my body felt weak from dehydration.  I was tired and hot and had to figure some way to rid myself of the walker under my van, ditch the small horde eagerly following me, and make it back to the front gate.  I tried to calculate the time I needed.  The last time I came it took almost a full minute for the gate to open, and with the power off I would need to figure out if it could even be opened manually.  I would need time to get the van inside, and more time to close the gate securely behind me.  Based on the speed of the group hobbling after me, I would need to lead them at least two blocks away from me.  The tricky part was not knowing what dangers lie in the distance.  One wrong turn and I could drive myself right back into the horde I'd seen earlier at the gas station.  I opted to make circles around the block.  If I could get them into a single group I could ditch them on the opposite side of the facility, giving me the time I needed to get inside without being discovered.  

I turned to the right and saw another three walkers shambling in the street.  The sound of my van immediately attracted them, and I swerved around them with ease.  All three were dressed in painter's coveralls, their grey skin spattered with bright yellow paint.  As they turned to follow me I saw the rest of the pack round the corner, and as they converged the painters blended seamlessly into their ranks.  I wondered if this was how the mega-horde had formed, and if I would one day regret making this train of walking death.

I continued down the street toward the end of the block.  I turned the corner again and found another walker, this one alone.  It was an old man wearing dingy brown pants with no shirt on.  I passed by him he swung his arms out weakly.  It was almost sad to see the sunken yellow eyes staring out of the grisly gaunt face.   His thin grey hair hung across almost transparent skin, and he stared upward into the sky, head cocked to one side to determine my location.  I looked in my mirror and saw him move resolutely to follow me.  

By now I had quite the pack gathered behind me.  Each of these creatures had a similar speed, though some naturally went faster, so it was tricky finding the right speed.  I found that if I went too too slow the walking dead would grab onto my van, too fast and I would catch up to the slowest in the pack, causing them to change direction and pin me between them.  I was now on my third lap, working feverishly to get them all into a single group on the opposite side of the facility.

As I drove I used the time to inspect the fence for breaks or damage.  So far the fence seemed intact and the storage facility was untouched, at least from the outside.   I looked in the rear view mirror at the growing train of undead monsters.  It was no where near as large as the pack that had me pinned on the rooftop, but there were at at least a dozen ghouls limping and lurching behind me.  It was almost comical the way they were furiously trying to keep up, but unable to move their legs fast enough.

I rounded the corner on my fourth lap.  As I headed down the southernmost street I saw a familiar sight: a fat zombie in a blue velour running suit and a small one in a red hat dragging its legs behind it.  They had continued to make their way here, slowly but resolutely, from several blocks away.  I had made a few turns to get here, how did they know where I was?  Could they hear the van?  Were they sniffing me out like some undead bloodhound?  Could others be doing the same?  Would I turn the corner to find that mega-horde bearing down on me like a wall of infection and death?  I heard a chime and looked down at the little yellow icon next to the fuel gauge.  The needle sat on the letter "E" and I felt a sputter as the engine coughed thirstily.  Panic surged in my throat.  I needed food, water and rest, and fuel, all of which were on the other side of that fence, but I had no way to get inside safely, and time was running out.  

Chapter 72- Jousting the dead

My fuel light was illuminated and I probably only had another gallon before it was empty.  I needed to eat and sleep and the longer I drove in circles around this block the more zombies seemed to join this little group I had training behind my vehicle.

I looked in the rear view mirror.  There had to be at least 15 infected following me, maybe as many as twenty.  They hobbled about fifty feet away, their undead faces emotionless but their bodies determined to reach me.  I stopped the van and stepped between the seats, climbing into the back.  The sun was beginning to fade and its light through the window danced across the dust in the air.  The smell of sawdust and oil seemed to cling to everything.  I looked around, remembering that there had been a tool belt with a couple hammers hanging on a hook.  With all the jostling turns almost everything was now on the floor, and I rifled through the mess now strewn across the ground.  Underneath a large plastic bin I found the tool belt.  Lifting it back onto the hook I saw the two framing hammers still hanging from metal loops.  I grabbed them both, quickly returning to the driver's seat.

Glancing back at the rear of the vehicle I could see the walking dead advancing quickly.  "Time for a little modern day jousting" I said to myself, making a three-point turn and facing my van directly at the pack ahead of me.  I gripped the handle with my right hand and steeled myself.  My rumbling stomach and dry mouth reminded me of how urgently I needed to get inside the compound on the other side of this fence.

I rolled down the window with my left hand and hung my arm outside.  Stepping on the accelerator I felt pull me toward my attackers and I stifled the fear in the back of my throat.  Ahead of me a young girl, no older than 20, moved rapidly ahead of the pack, faster than the others behind her.  She would have been attractive in life, but one of her plump cheeks now bore a large sore and her cropped hair was matted with dark, dried blood.  I cut the wheel to the right and came alongside her.  She turned and reached for me just as I swung my hammer toward her head.  It bounced off one ear and she stumbled to the side but did not fall.  My blow was weak and glancing, I guess I had much to learn about killing another human. 

I pushed that thought from my mind.  She wasnt human, not anymore.  Looking up I realized I was heading directly into the pack, and I swung the van left and right, weaving deftly between the pack, taking one out with the front bumper and knocking another off its feet with my side view mirror.  I was almost through them, and they turned as I passed, grabbing at me with their withering, sun baked hands.  One managed to grasp the bars holding my rear view mirror in place and I slammed my hammer at its ragged knuckles. They were bloody and scarred, as though they had been used to tear at things with no regard for self.  I shuddered as I heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones and breathed a sigh of relief as its grip released and it dropped to the ground.  

I was free!  I had successfully navigated a pack of zombies.  I had expected some glorious battle where I hammered the skulls of the undead with amazing skill.  Reality was quite different.  I barely drove through the group, and didnt do more than slow a couple of them down a bit.  I glanced in the rear view.  They were still coming, and I still needed to find a way to keep them away while I made my way into the gates on the other side of the block.  Beyond those gates was my salvation, several storage units filled with food, water, fuel, and survival supplies.  

I pushed on the accelerator, determined to drive to the othe side as quickly as possible.  The van lurched, sputtered, and died.  I was out of gas.  

Chapter 70- A Van Down By The River

I raced to the corner of the building at the end of the street and ducked around the corner.  Peeking back the way I came I saw the fat zombie in the blue running suit followed by a kid in jeans and a green hoodie.  His skin was pale and his teeth were covered in blood that matched a bright red trucker cap sitting flat brimmed on his head.  He looked as though he'd been eating something, or someone very recently.  He moved rapidly toward me, unable to see me any longer but determined to reach my last known location.  I looked around and saw a white labeled "Coak Construction" with the tagline "Everything INCLUDING the kitchen sink." On the side of the van was a comical character with a red hat pulled down over his eyes and a tool bag slung over one shoulder.  He looked remarkably like the kid I had just seen.  I opened the side of the van and found a veritable cornucopia of tools that could be used as weapons. Hand saws and drills, hammers and crowbars.  I climbed in, looking for a good melee weapon.

As I climbed in I instantly recognized the smell.  As a teenager I had worked two summers as a framer for a local construction company doing hurricane upgrades on various commercial buildings.  The smell of machine oil mixed with sawdust instantly brought back memories of fast food lunches and convenience store dinners.  I looked around the van at the various shelves built into the walls.  Cardboard boxes full of nails and plastic cases with specialized tools littered the shelves.  Across the floor was a thick layer of power tools, brooms, and air compressors.  A tool belt humg on a hook, two framing hammers hanging from metal loops.  I would need to be close to make these effective, and I preferred to have something that could be wielded fairly easily but still give me more than an arms length distance.  

In the very back I saw a bunch of tools propped up in the corner.  I lifted a shovel and saw the bright yellow of a sledgehammer behind it.  A vivid flash in my mind and I could see my neighbor slamming away on his bumper.  It's hard to believe that was just a few weeks ago, and only a few blocks away.  The world was so different now.  I glanced out the back window and saw the two walkers getting closer.  I quickly began climbing back toward the front and as I reached for the door a flash of silver caught my eye.  Lookino over I saw the keys dangling in the ignition.  I smiled to myself.  Things might just be going my way after all. 

I made my way back to the corner just in time to see the young kid approach. I swung my sledge low and hard and felt a sickening crack.  His knees crushed out from underneath him and he crashed to the ground.  Unphased he snarled at me, swinging his arms at my ankles. "Stupid crawler" I called out, and kicked his head away from me.  I began to wonder at what point I stopped thinking of these as sick people and began assuming there was no possible cure, no human buried inside, hoping for relief. 

I looked down at the pitiful creature, jaw hanging off yet still trying to grab me.  His useless legs drug behind him as he pulled himself along the road.  I looked back at his cohort and saw she still hadn't cleared half the distance he had.  "You're not eating me today" I said, pointing at her.  "Consider this the first day of your diet." I walked away, leaving both of them helplessly snapping at me, infuriated that they didnt have the capability to catch up.  

I pulled open the driver's side door and climbed in.  Gripping the steering wheel tightly I felt free for the first time in days.  I turned the key and the engine started right up.  Adjusting the mirror, I put on the sunglasses I found on the dash.  They were neon green with pink arms, and said "Chameleons" on the side.  I looked at my reflection and smiled.  "Let's go empty out a storage unit."

Chapter 69- Gingerbread

I looked over at the gas station.  The frenzy from earlier had died, and most of them were now standing uselessly, waiting for something to draw their attention.  I looked down at the group surrounding the house upon which I stood.  There were over a hundred, but this still only represented a small portion of the massive horde teeming over at the gas station.

I began moving a large pile of shingles I had stacked in the middle of the roof to the very edge.  I carried load after load, until the pile sat almost 2 feet high.  As I worked the ghouls below me went into a frenzy, hearing me move across the roof but unable to reach me. They scratched at the siding and pulled on the window frames, but were unable to climb up.  Standing at the peak of the roof I looked down.  Scratching the surface of one of the tiles with a loose nail, I watched as the sound attracted them like a magnet. 

Once a large group was below me I shoved the entire pile off the edge.  It collapsed on top of several of them and stirred up the others like a hornet's nest.  They lunged violently toward the sound, slamming into each other with incredible force.  Soon almost the entire group was frantically pressing forward, eager for their share of whatever had fallen to the ground.  I stood up, looking behind me at my path to the next block.  Only a few infected remained, shambling weakly in no particular direction.  Beyond them, two more wandered through the street.  If I was going to go, now was the time.  

I moved quickly but silently, stepping on the edge of my foot and rolling my sole downward to reduce the noise of each footstep. As I reached the middle I grabbed a small stack of shingles and made my way back to the end of the roof where I had climbed up earlier.  I looked down.  It was at least a 10 foot drop, and I couldn't risk touching the fence for fear of drawing attention of those I had successfully distracted already.  I held my breath and jumped down onto the soft grass, landing with my feet close together and rolling to the side to prevent my ankles from twisting.  Almost any injury would seal my fate, and I was determined to survive.  I ducked low and ran past an overweight woman wearing a cheap jogging suit. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and the baby blue velour fabric of her suit was stained and dirty.  She moved slow and it was easy to get past her.  Even when she was alive she probably wasn't much of a runner. 

Ahead of me lurked a tall redhaired boy no older than a teenager, wearing a red shirt and black athletic shorts.  His curly hair was a stark contrast to his pale skin.  The black rimmed glasses on his face hung loosely off one ear and he snarled as I moved toward him. I dodged to the right but he lunged toward me with lightning speed, curling his long pale fingers around my shirt.  I stepped backward but his grip held firm on the pocket of my jacket.  Suddenly a shot rang out from the rooftop above and I felt the sticky goo of his brain matter splash across my cheeks. He slumped to the ground and a tireless heap and I stepped over the body, glancing up toward the roof of my apartment building.  The once observer now turned protector gave me a wave before shouldering his rifle and resumed his elevated vigilance.  I waved back and turned up the street, running as fast as I could without making noise.  

Chapter 68- Duck and Dodge

The shot rang out and echoed through the air, followed by a tremendous crash in the distance. I crouched down, counting to myself to allow time for the walkers to make their way to the tumult. "28, 29, 30." I stood up slowly, walking to the corner and peeking around. Hundreds of infected were clambering over each other to get to the wreckage of the gas station, not realizing that there was nothing for them there but dust and debris. I crouched low and half ran to the next building, ducking into the doorway.

What used to be a young woman walked by, her arms dangling loosely by her sides. Her skin was pale and almost grey looking, as though all the blood in her body was either gone or solidified in her veins beyond its ability to alter the pigment of her skin. Her head hung loosely to one side, and her hair draped down in a sticky mess. A large dark clot of blood matted her once blonde locks as though she suffered some sort of head trauma just as she was infected. She wore a yellow sun dress that hung loosely on her frame, exposing knobby shoulders.  As she stumbled along her hair swept aside revealing a tattoo of lips on her right arm.  Around the outside edge were the words "I don't bite" written in fancy script.  I sniggered when I saw it and inmediately she turned toward me.  "Oh crap" I said under my breath, backing into the corner as tight as I could. Her yellow eyes searched the wall for the source of the sound, and she raised her arms in a sweeping motion, searching for movement. I held my breath, watching her arms as they moved from side to side.  "Should I run?" I debated in my mind. "Or should I stay still and hope she goes away?" I stood like a stone while my eyes searched frantically for an escape. The door behind me was locked tight, and I didn't have time to get past her. 

As she moved close I ducked her swinging arm and swung my plastic bag toward her head. I heard a splitting sound as the box of ammunition in the bag broke aross the side of her skull, rupturing the thin plastic of the bag and spilling bullets across the street. The sound of their brass casings rolling about attracted several more ghouls, all of which began to advance rapidly. As they did so their stumbling feet slipped on the round shots and they struggled to keep their balance. It was almost comical to watch this bizzare scene, like a macabre roller derby played by actors from a Michael Jaskcon music video. One fell to the ground with a sickening splat, another tripped over him and like dominos there was a heap in front of me, writhing and wriggling in an effort to grab hold of me. I deftly negotiated the minefield of grasping claws and scattered bullets, but by doing so I placed myself precariously in the street.  

It was like a magnetic field surrounded me wherever I went.  As I moved one direction the zombies near there would lose interest in the gas station and begin moving toward me.  I moved away from them, putting me in range of others on the opposite side.  Soon I had a chain of infected trailing behind, moaning and clambering for a chance to grab the only living thing for several blocks.  Adrenaline pumped in my veins, urging me to move in almost acrobatic motions.  I ducked under a set of arms and moved to my right, jumping over a small brick wall and into a set of bushes.  Leaping up onto the too of the fence the rattling of the chain link attracted even more, and rather than hop over I opted to grab onto the steel gutters of a nearby building.  Heaving myself upward I pulled myself onto the roof and looked down at the teeming horde below.  

What an idiot I was. Did I really expect I could sneak my way past an army of corpses?  I looked down at the sea of outstretched arms, growing larger by the second.  The collective moaning and gargling emanating from their mouths attracted other infected nearby, fueling a frenzy of incomprehensible horror.  As they struggled to get to me they clawed and scratched and pulled on their fellows, tearing entire chunks of hair out and even removing limbs.  The victims, completely unaware of their new injuries continued to effort toward me, albeit in a now slightly disabled fashion.  

I stood up and walked carefully to the rooftop, looking out over a sea of the undead.  There had to be thousands of them.  Shielding my eyes from the glaring sun above I realized just how thirsty I was, and tried to calculate how much liquid I'd had in the past week. I glanced up at the roof and saw my young friend looking down on me, watching solemnly at a scene I'm sure he's witnessed before.  He didnt move, but sat quietly, helplessly with his arms folded on the edge of the rooftop.  

I needed a plan.  I certainly could not stay here forever and I wasn't sure how long it would take for something to distract these monsters in another direction.  I looked up the street in the direction of the storage facility.  I still had several blocks to go, a distance that now seemed almost insurmountable. Even if I could get there I certainly couldn't afford to tow this crowd behind me.  Not knowing what shape I'd find my storage unit I might need hours, even days to pack it all up in a way it could be moved, and I still didn't have a vehicle.  

I sat down on the roof and thought of Tracy.  It seems like years since I had seen her face.  So much had happened since I disappeared down that bunker shaft.  Would she even be there?  If she left me at the bunker she must have assumed I was dead, and after seeing the jeep stranded out on the freeway the odds of her finding reliable transportation was slim.  Even if she had made it to the storage unit she'd be long gone by now.  In my mind there were only two realistic scenarios: either she made it to A-1 storage, had cleaned it out, and was now gone, or she had never made it there in the first place.  

It was full afternoon now, and the sun sat high in the sky.  The horde below me still crowded all around me, but their movements had slowed from a frenzy to more of a rhythmic thrum.  My pistol dug uncomfortably in my back, and I retrieved it, looking at its dark surface absorbing the sunlight.  After my bag burst I only the ammo in the single magazine.  If I'd had the whole box I might have been able to carve a path through this crowd or at least create enough of a distraction to give me time to hop off the other side.  I laid the pistol against a metal pipe and began picking idly at the shingles.  The hot sun made them pliable and soft, and I pulled a corner up, tearing it off.  Turning it over and over again I finally got bored and skipped it like a rock across the rooftop.  Instantly the crowd below me perked up at the sound and began pushing each other towards the south side of the building.  My eyebrows raised as I realized I had an entire arsenal of possible distractions.  

Starting at the top I pulled up shingle after shingle, making a large pile at the crest of the roof.  The sounds of my labor worked the horde below back into a frenzy, and I could see their hands reaching and stretching, fruitlessly trying to obtain their goal.  I worked feverishly and felt my throat grow dry in the summer heat.  I looked down at my fingers, rubbed raw from the rough composite.  I flexed them and blew on the irritated skin.  What I wouldn't trade for a dip in a nice cold Swimmimg pool right now. 

I looked over at my handiwork.  The roof was now missing at least 50 shingles, and I had amassed a pile now balancing precariously on the crest of the roof.  I began by skidding the first one across the roof like I had earlier.  Being an entire shingle it made considerably more noise, and the zombies were instantly attracted to it.  I skidded a second one and saw them hesitate backwards, then over to the side where my shingle had fallen off the edge.  If this was going to be successful I would need to lead them in the opposite direction.  I picked up a shingle and tried desperately to hold it level like a frisbee. It was floppy and wam in the afternoon sun and had difficulty holding its shape.  I spun it like a large flat noodle and watched it flip downwards into the crowd.  It landed on the head of what was once a large man wearing a hat with the words "I survived" and a picture of some roller coaster on it.  As it knocked the hat off his bald head he seemed to look up into the sky in bewilderment.  The other zombies around him clambered over him, so eager to get to the source of the movement that they forced him to the ground in ignorant frenzy.  I smiled.  "This might just work" I thought to myself.  I looked back up at the roof of my building, almost a block away.  He was still up there, silently observing.

Chapter 67- Diversionary Tactics

"I need a diversion." I turned and looked the kid in the eyes.  He looked back at me incredulously.  "Wait..." he paused, studying my face. "You're serious?  You're going down there?"  I nodded and gestured to the rooftop.  "You can't expect me to stay on this rooftop."  I pointed at his little barricade that obviously doubled as a lean-to.  "Starving under a shopping cart, trying to keep cool in the daytime and warm at night, wondering if help will ever come."  His face filled with indignation and he gripped his rifle protectively against his chest.  "Hey, I've lasted a lot longer than anyone else in this building." His lower lip puffed out and I could see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.  He had obviously lost someone important to him.  A girlfriend?  His parents?  I thought it better not to ask.

I walked over to the little shelter and examined it.  "It's not a bad little setup." I said, trying to lift his spirits with a compliment "How did you even get a shopping cart up here? Did you haul it up the ladder?"  He wiped the tear from his eye with a corner of a sleeve and gestured toward the back corner of the roof. Two large metal doors lat flat in the surface.  "Service elevator."  I hadn't seen a service elevator that went all the way to the roof and opened up to the sky like this.  "How do they..." I cocked my head to one side, trying to understand it.  He lifted a large control box on a wire and pressed a button.  A low mechanical hum vibrated the floor below us and we watched and waited.  Soon the doors opened vertically into the sky and a platform emerged from the opening.  "Oh, it's powered by a piston instead of cables." I said, peeking under the crack.  "How does it even have power?" He shrugged.  "Backup generator I guess."  That power could come in handy, but I didn't have the time or the means to locate it now.  Priority was food, water, and shelter.  I filed it away in the back of my mind for later.

"How far down does this go?" I asked, hoping it led to a subterranean tunnel system I didn't know about.  He pointed over the edge.  "Just to the alleyway there." I walked over and looked down the narrow space between the two buildings.  It led around the corner to the right and to the road that ran parallel to the one with the gas station.  It was my best bet.

"Okay, about that diversion." I walked back to the front of the building and pointed at the gas station.  "How good are you with that gun?" He looked down at it, unsure of my meaning.  "Could you hit one of those pumps?"  He shrugged.  "Yeah, but it wouldn't do any good.  They're empty.  I saw the last of those poor saps drain all the gas out of it, and even if I hit it there's no guarantee it would blow up."  I shook my head.  "You mis-understand me.  I don't need you to make it explode."  I smiled.  "I need you to hit that pole."  I pointed at the support post that held up one half of the roof over the pumps.  An SUV had run into the pole and broken it almost in half.  Now the pole sat precariously on the hood of that same vehicle.  "If you can hit that pole it might be enough to slide it off the edge of the car, sending the whole structure crashing down on top of those monsters."  I looked at the teeming horde, some wandering aimlessly in the street, others ferociously tearing at various objects in the cars, objects I couldn't see and didn't want to think about.  "Once it comes crashing down, we'll only have a limited amount of time to get down this shaft and get up that road, and we'd have to be very quiet."  I pointed up past the building.  "See those red rooftops over there?"  He nodded in reply.  "I have a few storage units up there full of supplies.  Once I can get up there I'm loading up and heading for the mountains to make a new start."  He looked at me skeptically.  "I'm not leaving this rooftop.  You'll never even make it there alive.  Those things will tear you to shreds before you even make it out of the alley."  I put my hand on his shoulder.  "You can't stay up here forever.  This is a chance to survive, and I could use the backup."  He shook his head, thumbing back toward his little shelter.  "This is the only chance I need.  I'll give you your diversion, but I'm not gonna commit suicide on the street with you."  I nodded with understanding.  "You have to do what you believe is right."

I stepped up onto the platform and turned to face him.  "Its got to be loud to attract them." I nodded a farewell and pressed the large black button on the control module.  The doors lifted off the roof and spun upwards as the piston lowered me slowly into the darkness.  The last thing I could see what his face watching me through the cracks as I lowered down into the darkness.

The shaft was humid and warm.  It stunk of mildew and old dirty laundry.  With the exception of a dim orange bulb on the wall every 12 feet there was no light, and I could barely make out the bricks and steel of my temporary prison.  I could hear the piston straining and knew I must be reaching the end of the line.  The platform stopped abruptly and I put my hands out to the side to steady myself.  A small shaft of light emanated from a crack in the wall and I walked toward it, feeling my way slowly with one foot sliding on the floor in front of me.  Placing my hands on the warm metal of the door I felt around for a handle a grasped a large bar about waist level.  I pushed slowly, trying to be as quiet as I could.  The door swung open easily and I breathed a sigh of relief to see an empty alleyway.

I looked up at the rooftop and saw my solitary friend leaning over the edge.  I nodded and waved and he disappeared.  I started to step quietly up the alley and realized that I never even knew his name.  "Good luck kid." I said under my breath.  "We're both gonna need it."

Chapter 66- Ants on a log

It was the first time I'd heard an adult voice since I was underground. I held back my excitement, trying to think of something to say.  I peeked my head out slowly, hoping to get a glance at the guy behind the barricade and maybe even flash a non-threatening smile his direction. Just as my eyes lifted above the surface I shot rang out and something impact on the door behind me.  A few chunks of debris fell down the shaft and I ducked down to avoid the fire.  "I missed on purpose that time!" The voice called out.  "I won't do that again, now close the hatch and leave me alone!" His voice sounded frantic and fearful.  I bit my lip, wondering if it was even worth it to get to the roof.  I could just take my chances on the streets, right?  No, I needed to see.  I weighed my options.  I could start shooting my own gun, get out and face this guy down, or try and reason with him.

"Hey, stop shooting!" I call out, keeping my head ducked down as low as I can manage.  Silence. Either he's taking aim or listening. I hope it's listening.  "Those shots will attract the infected!" I listen again, waiting for a response. Still nothing.  "Did you live in this building?" I ask, still keeping my head low.  "I did.  Right down this hallway on the end. Maybe we know each other!" I risk peeking my head above the rim, hoping it won't be my last act on this earth.  What fantastic irony that would be, to have survived everything I had so far, just to be shot in the head by some yahoo on a rooftop.  

I scanned the roof, evaluating the situation.  The barricade was only a few feet away from me and was made up of discarded pieces of plywood and some old wooden spools of electrical wire.  A shopping cart lay on its side under the heap and I could see a pair of eyes peering out of a dirty face.  He was young, I'd estimate between 16 and 20 years old.  I raised one hand up as I held onto the ladder with the other.  "I don't want anything from you, I just want to look at the city, you know? See the situation..." I took another step up, watching his eyes as they stayed glued on me.  "Are you thirsty? I have half a bottle of water if you want it..." I saw his eyes flicker and he sat up.  "Who are you?" He asked, standing up.  He held a .22 rifle at his hip, barrel pointed at me.  "I'm nobody." I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Just some guy who used to crunch numbers, lost in a city full of zombies." He smiled a bit, but immediately put his guard up.  "How about you?" I ask, nonchalantly walking parallel to him towards the edge of the roof. His eyes followed me to the edge but he didnt move.  "Why do you want to be up here so bad?" He asks, his voice softening a bit.  

I looked out across the landscape.  The sky was hazy, a mixture of smog and smoke from the multiple fires scattered around the city.  Below me there is a small house, flames pouring out of it's windows. Thick smoke billowed into the sky.  With no fire department to combat them, they will continue to burn until the buildings are consumed, and possibly longer if they can move from house to house.  A few walkers stumbled around the streets, neither attracted to or deterred by the flames.  I scanned across the streets, tracing my path to A-1 storage.  A gas station looked more like a parking lot, with cars lined up, blocking the pumps.  With the exception of a few shambling ghouls it seemed relatively easy, and I felt my confidence boost.  

I was about to turn away when I heard the squeal of tires.  I watched as a minivan tore up to the gas starion, sideswiping a sedan and almost crashing into a truck.  The driver got out frantically, motioning  to someone in the car.  The side door slid open and a woman stepped out, helping a small child out into the street.  She pulled his pants down and began looking down the street as he urinated on the concrete in front of them.  She seemed frantic, nervously watching the road behind her.  The man ignored them, too busy messing with the pump, trying to get it to work.  Suddenly the woman screamed, pointing in the direction they had just come from.  She grabbed the boy under the arms and picked him up, his little stream of yellow liquid arching into the sky.  On her face was a mixture of terror and exhaustion, and she yelled something to the man by the pump.  He angrily yeled back but didnt move.  Thrusting the boy inside, she rapidly closed the door.  The man tried a second pump, but apparently without power they are useless.  He kicked the pump hard and bellowed in frustration.  Moving back to the driver's side door he closed himself inside.  The engine started and the van backed up, hitting the sedan behind and sending a shower of glass and plastic across the street.  They pulled out into the street and tore off as a large group of walkers rounded the corner behind them.  

I gasped, baffled by the immensity of the crowd below.  That minivan was being pursued by hundreds... Possibly even thousands of infected.  I watched as they washed over the gas station like a tidal wave, probing every open window, permeating ever space.  A cacophony of moaning traveled up to our ears, and I watched in horror as the seemingly unending wave lingered across the streets.  "That's the wave" I jumped as I heard the voice behind me.  Turning I saw the boy standing there, looking toward the edge.  "It passes by every few hours.  Sometimes stays, sometimes disappears completely." I looked back at the horrible scene below.  It must be the entire population of the neighborhood. "How long have you been up here?" I asked.  He gestured toward the gas station. "Long enough to see those pumps go dry and the drivers of those cars get eaten." I looked down at the gas station, now crawling with hundreds of infected like ants over a picnic. "When they leave, how long are they gone for?" I asked, wondering if I had a gap of time that would give me an opportunity. The kid shrugged his shoulders.  "Dunno." He said, staring at the horde below.  "I depends on what they are chasing." 

Chapter 65- Down and Out

The moving figure I had seen earlier though the peephole was gone, and I opened the door slowly, craning my head out to see down the hallway.  It was dark, and at least two of the doors were missing off their hinges.  I could see light streaming out of one of the doorways from a window inside, and the other lay loosely in the frame.  I had no way of knowing whether these were occupied by the walking dead or simply abandoned, but I had to get past them.  The ladder to the roof was at the end of the hallway and I had to see what I was up against.

I closed the door of my apartment quietly, thinking through my plan in my mind.  Down the hall, up the ladder, onto the roof.  Look for a safe passage, then come back here for my supplies.  I began to question everything, rolling over endless scenarios in my mind.  What if I was trapped up top?  What if I couldn't make it back here?  I should bring everything I needed now, ready to go at a moment's notice.

I pulled on a second pair of jeans over the ones I wore now, and retrieved a sweatshirt from the drawer.  I wrapped it around my waist and reached for the thick leather coat from the closet.  I wasn't cold now, but I might be in the future, and I would want these items then.  Until that time they'd serve as an extra layer of protection against the teeth and nails of the monsters roaming the streets outside.  I pulled on the black mechanic gloves I used to use when I worked on my Jeep and checked to make sure I could still get my finger through the guard of my pistol.  It fit like...  well, a glove I guess.

I looked in the mirror.  I looked ridiculous.  I could see the beads of sweat on my forehead as I tried to tolerate several layers of clothing on a 80 degree day.  No matter.  I'd be glad I had them in the end.  I looked around my room, hoping to see something I could use as a bludgeoning weapon.  I wished I had a sword or an ax or something that didn't require re-loading.  I kicked the bed frame, wondering if that would work.  No, too thick and unwieldy.  I glanced in the bathroom and pulled down the rod that held the shower curtain up.  "This could work," I thought.  I stripped off the curtain and swung it against the doorframe.  It bent in half easily and I tossed it to the ground.  I went to the kitchen and opened the cupboards.  A large frying pan?  It was the best I could do at the moment.  I looked in the mirror and immediately thought of the Disney movie Tangled.  "Frying pans, who knew, right?" I said to my reflection in my best Flynn Rider voice.  I spun it in my gloved hand and moved to the door.

After checking the peephole once more I opened the door and peered out quietly.  I tossed a half empty bottle of shampoo down the hall and heard it echo in the silence.  I waited for something to investigate the sound but nothing came.  I opened the door wide, standing in the doorframe courageously and waited, listening.  Still nothing.  I took a step out into the hallway, closing the door behind me quietly.  I pressed "lock" on the doorknob and listened as the mechanical lock moved into place.  I turned and cast a glance behind me, making sure I wasn't being followed, and moved slowly up the dark hallway.  I tossed another travel size shampoo bottle far ahead of me, hoping to draw out a would be attacker early enough to give me a chance to fight or flee.  Still nothing.  

I approached the first doorway and debated.  Do I run past as fast as I can, making my way to the roof as quickly as possible?  No, I'd need to come back this way, and I'd rather not awaken some horde of undead monsters to make things more difficult.  I stepped over the broken door carefully, using my left hand to steady myself on the opposite wall. As I cross the doorway I peered inside. The couches were torn to shreds and bloodstains covered the walls. There was no signs of bodies or zombies. 

I moved quietly to the next doorway, this one steeped in darkness. Tossing a small soap bar into the blackness I waited for any sign of movement. Nothing. I stepped cautiously past and moved toward the back of the hall. 

The other two doors were closed, and I didn't bother to try the handles. I needed to make my way up, to see how bad the city really was. I grasped the rung of the metal ladder bolted to the concrete wall and pulled myself up. I heard a trend skis creak that echoed through the darkness. I froze, looking backward for any signs of movement. Satisfied that I was alone, I proceeded slowly and carefully up the ladder.  The walls enclosed around me as I traveled up to the roof. I could hear my labored breath and could feel the sweat pouring down my temples and trickling down my collar. 

I finally reached the roof and pulled on the handle. The hatch was spring loaded and it popped open, flooding the shaft with light.  I took a moment to allow my eyes to adjust and popped my head above the opening. "Don't come any closer!" I heard a gravelly, desperate voice yell from behind a makeshift barricade. "Or so help me I will blow your head off!" 

Chapter 64- Blinded by the light

I can't sleep when I'm too warm. As I turn over in bed I see the sunlight streaming through the cracks in my blinds, casting rays of light across the room. I reach my hand up and make the dust particles dance as I swirl my fingers playfully through them. It's a beatiful image, one that distracts me from my reality.  

From the angle of the sun through the blinds I'd say it must be 10 or 11.  It's impossible to know for sure, since all the clocks are dead.   You don't realize how much you look at the clock until you can't anymore. Without power I've lost all ability to know the date and time, and I hadn't bothered to keep track when I did know. 

I rub the sleep from my eyes and sit up. The sun's rays are hot. I can literally feel a difference between their shoots and the rest of the air in the room. I look around, feeling comfortable in my familiar setting. Part of me wants to stay here, safe and secure in my own home, but without stockpiles of food here that would be impossible. If only I'd left behind at least some of the stores I'd put away in the containers a few blocks away. 

That's the interesting thing about the end if the works I guess. Once you are in it you think of all sorts of things you should have done. I should have had a 3 month supply of food and water in my apartment. I should have rigged a solar panel to the shower and dug my own well or something. I should have taken Tracy down into that bunker with me. I should have kissed her when I had the chance. 

I push what might have been from my mind and focus on what I'm doing now. I need to get up, get armed, and get out. I swing my legs off the bed in my usual morning routine, and stand up, stretching high into the air to pull my tightened muscles out. It feels so good to have had a good nights sleep. I wonder about Tracy, about Oliver, the people I tried to help but lost along the way. I can't let myself be distracted by sorrow or what might have been. I need to focus on here and now. 

I walk to the closet and shed my dirty clothes.  I was tempted to use the last bottle of water to give myself a little shower, but knew I might need to drink it later. "Dirt I can handle. Thirst I can't" I said into the mirror. The man standing before me was significantly different from the last time I saw my reflection. Crusted blood caked inside my ear and ran down my cheek. A series of cuts, bruises, and scabs covered various parts of my body. I should have kept a first aid kit in the house too. How could I have assumed I'd always have access to that storage unit?  Foolish. 

I pulled on a pair of clean jeans and reveled in the softness of a familiar tee shirt.  I slid on a belt and reached inside my sock drawer for a clean pair of underwear and a set of grey athletic socks.  After donning them I removed a key from from the drawer and unlocked the small safe up on my closet shelf. Opening it carefully I retrieved the small pistol and two magazines of ammunition from its dark interior. I loaded one, thumbed on the safety and stuffed the pistol in the holster and clipped it onto the back of my jeans, tucking the spare magazine in my front pocket. Then I reached into the back of the safe and felt a small canvas pouch. I grabbed it, pulled it out and lifted the Velcro flap. I knew this multitool would come in handy one day. I grabbed the last item in the safe, a box of 100 rounds of hollow point ammunition, and carried it to the kitchen.

I looked through the cupboards for something to eat. A box of soup crackers would have to do. I stuffed several in my mouth and cracked open the water bottle to wash them down. I retrieved an old shopping bag from under the sink and filled it with the box of ammo, the rest of the crackers, and my half empty water bottle.  On a whim I tried to turn in the TV, knowing there wasn't any power. I looked at the red light flashing on the remote and pressed the button several more times. Even though it didn't do anything, just seeing that red light comforted me somehow. 

I walked slowly to the door. There's one spot in my floor that always creaks and the last thing I needed was to arouse the attention of the walkers outside. I peered through the keyhole and saw one dark shape a few feet away. It stood there silently, swaying back and forth in a rhythmic fashion. Was this how they slept?  Did they even need to sleep?  I backed away softly and moved to the window over the couch. Lifting the blinds slightly I looked down at the parking lot. Three more walkers shambled aimlessly down the street in opposite directions. They looked up at the sun, moved around cars, but didnt seem to have any purpose to their movement. 

I turned and sat back on the couch, shifting my weight so my didnt dig into my back. I knew my objective was to get to my storage unit safely, but that would require more than just getting past these monsters roaming through my parking lot. I needed a safe route through the streets all the way to A-1 storage solutions, over 3 blocks away. An easy jaunt in a car, not to bad of a walk, but add the complications of my infected adversary and, well, I needed a solid plan.