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."