Chapter 80- Down to the wire

The gate behind me was still attached, banging loudly across the pavement and sending the occasional spark into the air.  I stopped the van and went back to detach it.  The force required to pull the gate off it's track had tightened the knots, and it was virtually impossible to pull them apart.  Again I went back to the van, rummaging through the disheveled contents for something I could use to cut the wire.  My heart leapt when I saw a set of  bolt cutters, but in trying to pry them apart I found they were rusted shut.  I sprayed some lubricant on the hinges, hoping to free the frozen joints, but they would not budge.   I slammed them against the ground, hoping the force would crack the oxidization sealing the metal shut, but to no avail.

I tossed them back on the floor of the van and kept searching.  A crowbar, a sledgehammer, a pair of industrial shears and multiple utility knives, but nothing that could cut metal that size.  I found a wide chisel and grabbed a hammer.  Skeptical but hopeful, I placed the chisel onto the rubber sheathing covering the wire.  The dull blade held firmly in place and I slammed my hammer against it hard.  It cut the rubber sheath easily and dented the wires below.  The bright copper gleamed in the fading light and I placed the blade back into the groove.  I slammed the hammer down again, over and over, lifting it every once in a while to gauge my progress.  It was slow, but I was cutting through.

I continued to hammer away until a scuff behind me caught my attention.  I turned to look and saw a zombie crawling toward me, his face covered in glass shards.  It was the monster I had flung through the storefront window.  His legs drug uselessly behind him, and he snarled and snapped as he got closer.  I looked around quickly, making sure there weren't any others trying to surround me.  Confident that we were alone I stood and walked around the crawler, leading him away from my work.  He snapped and snarled but despite his best efforts he could only move slowly.  I weighed my options.  I could quickly dispatch him and get back to work, or lead him away over and over, keeping him away from me but not killing him unless I was forced to.

I didn't have time for this, and it clearly wasn't human anymore.  If they ever do find a cure for this, I doubt this one would make the cut.  I went back to the van and picked up those rusty bolt cutters.  Standing above the crawler, I felt his boney fingers close around my ankle.  I swung the bolt cutters downward into his skull, feeling them crush through the thick bone.  Immediately the grip released and it laid in a puddle of thick black goo.

I knew my time was limited, and I needed to load the van quickly. I was operating under the assumption that the mega-horde would round the corner any second, and if I was faced with thousands of the undead the odds of me escaping alive would dwindle rapidly.  My best bet was to get in, load up, and get out...  fast.

I went back to my work and hacked at the wire until it broke free.  Tossing the tools in the back of the van I started the engine and proceeded down the road.  I turned the corner where I had last seen Lou leading the pack away from me, and saw a body on the roof of the building.  It was torn to shreds, but I didn't need to call in a forensics team to know who it was.  It wasn't clear how the walkers had gotten up there, but that didn't change my course of action.  I drove rapidly but attentively around the next corner toward the back of the complex and saw two of the infected shambling in the middle of the street.  I didn't tempt fate and went around them, watching as they uselessly swung their arms in my direction.

I turned into the front entryway, the sides of the fence bent from where I had ripped the gate off.  Driving past them I navigated the narrow aisles toward my unit where all the supplies lay stacked and waiting.  I pulled up and put the van in park, climbing to the back to open the gate.  As I stepped out into the evening air I surveyed my supplies.  Lifting a case of water I carried it to the back of the van.  Shoving it toward the back, it scooted a few loose tools aside as I tried to make space inside.  I repeated the process four more times, each time pushing the water to the back.  I turned to begin gathering the few cans of gasoline I had and was faced with a horrible sight.  A massive group of zombies was lumbering toward me, blocking my only exit.  

Chapter 79- Hickybobbin

As the adrenaline wore off I realized how exhausted I was.  Holding up that massive body had spent all my strength reserves, and I barely had the power to lift my arms.  I moved quickly into the van, immediately grabbing my handgun and stuffing it into my belt.  I looked around, checking the mirrors and looking behind me.  The massive horde was only a few blocks away.  Had they heard the shots?  Were they stumbling my way right now?  I paused, listening for a collective moan that would signal their unified movement, but heard nothing.  perhaps the shot echoed off the buildings and was impossible to locate.  Wishful thinking.  

With nothing in view I turned my attention to the thick steel gate separating me from the supplies I needed to make my trip out of town.  It was nearly 10 feet tall and made of thick steel, roughly cut and welded together with thick beads. It ran along a thick track embedded in the pavement, and several small tires mounted along the bottom allowed it to roll back and forth.  A chain connected to the left side ran along its length to a small motor on the right. Controls for the motor were inside the office, and without power it would have to be opened manually. Only Lou knew how to do that, and from what I had heard moments ago, he would not be much help.  

I hopped quickly out of the van and approached the motor, inspecting it for any indication of a manual release.  The chain emerging from its housing was thick, like an oversized bicycle chain, and wrapped around a large sprocket the size of a plate.  Rust covered the links from years of age and exposure to the elements, but I could see no control elements.  I went back to the van, searching among the spilled tools in the back for something I could use to break or at least derail the massive connection.

I remembered the stack of shovels in the back corner and reached behind the bungie cord holding them upright.  A long, heavy pry bar stood behind them, as thick as a two year's old's arm and at least 5 feet long.  I tilted it toward the opposite end of the van as I lifted it over the bungie.  Angling it toward the door I worked it outside, trying not to hit the sides too much.  As stepped outside I breathed deeply.  The air was getting cooler as it got later, and despite the smell of smoke and the hint of decay the fresh air smelled wonderful.  It gets so stuffy inside that van.  The mixture of dust and oil wasn't offensive by any means, but to be outside of that small contained space was a welcome change.  

I looked at the chain drive, trying to find the best location in which to lodge my pike.  The chain links were wide enough to get one tip of the bar into them, but without any leverage I could only wiggle it back and forth slightly.  I tried placing it against the ground and pulling it towards me, but it just slid against the asphalt surface beneath me.  I tried three or four alternative positions, bending and pulling, pushing and prying.  Each one was more futile than the last.  I could feel my anxiety building, a sense of urgency spawned by the impending horde that could be limping their way around the corner any minute.  I remembered how they washed over the gas station, filling every crack with their undead hands and reaching arms.  In frustration I lifted the pole high above my head like an axe, bringing it crashing down on the chain as hard as I could.  It reverberated loudly through the evening air and bounced fruitlessly off the surface of the chain.

Perhaps I am going about this all wrong.  Instead of forcing the chain maybe I should force the gate.  I moved to the right, examining the small opening between the brick surface of the wall and the gate itself.  It was not quite wide enough to squeeze through, but almost perfect for prying.  I placed one end of my bar against the wall and the other side against the gate.  I pulled hard, and smiled as I felt the gate open softly.  my smile immediately faded after a few inches of progress, as the chain held it firmly.  Opening no more than six inches, it rolled back into place as soon as I released the pressure.  

Going back to the van I found a scrap of wood and went back to the gate, hoping to using it to block the small opening I knew I could make.  I lodged it successfully and then repositioned my pry bar, hoping to use the leverage of the new position to break the chain's hold.  I strained as much as my muscles would allow, but it was useless. After several seconds of exertion I released the pry bar and rested my head against the gate.  

I was sweating profusely. A combination of nerves and effort, I needed food and water, all of which lay beyond this gate.  I stepped back, looking upward, examining the height to determine if climbing over was a possibility.  If I could work my way inside I might be able to find the mechanism to open it, assuming it didn't require a key of some sort.  I thought of Lou, who never came to my aid and whom I only assume succumbed to some horrible fate.  He knew how to work this gate, and I didn't bother asking because I assumed he'd never leave the safety of the roof. What happened to him?  The scream echoing through the air replayed in my mind. It sounded like him, but there was no way to be sure from here. Only the fact that he hasn't come to my aid was testimony that he had succumbed to some devilish attack by those he was trying to distract. 

I weighed my options.  I could leave with what I had, abandoning my supplies and hoping to forage more along the way, but there was no guarantee that I would even find enough gas to make the trip and I knew I had several gallons on the other side of the fence.  I could circle back around, hoping to discover what happened and entering the compound the way I left it- over the back fence onto the roof, perhaps even hand carry supplies up the ladder, but there was no way to know if Lou's attackers were waiting to pounce on me as soon as I stepped onto the roof. I could ram the gate, hoping the collision was enough to knock the gate off its tracks, but I ran the risk of damaging the van or even getting it stuck.  No, the van was too important. It was my key to making my way to Tracy.  Perhaps there were chains or rope in the back I could use to pull the gate down. The risk to the van was low, and while it left the faculty exposed, I didn't plan to return.

This was clearly my best option, and I raced to the van to look for something I could use.  The tools were all over the floor, and if I had my way I would stop and organize them so I knew where everything was, but with the possibility of danger closing in I didn't have time for that now.  I rummaged through the piles, pushing things from side to side, hoping to find a chain, a spool of wire, even a rope.  

I moved up to the front and looked in the glove box and under the passenger seat.  In a black plastic bag I found a set of jumper cables. They were thick and stiff, with massive clamps on each side. It was the best I could do. I pulled them out but they were way too short. At ten feet long I wouldn't have the space to tie them to the bumper and around the gate.  I looked at the thick wire and pulled at the two sides. If I could separate the wire I could double my length, but I would need something sharp. Back to the van I went, looking for a knife. Inside the tool belt hanging on the hook I found a razor blade, and used it to cut the thin plastic holding the red and black wires together. 

I cut between the two wires for several inches and once I got it started I could pull them apart with my hands. Working quickly I separated the two wires and tied one to the bumper in a half hitch, and did the same with the other wire to the gate. Then I connected the two wires with a square knot. Hoping it would hold, I climbed back into the van, starting the engine and praying silently as I shifted into gear. "Please let this wire be stronger than the gate" I whispered. I moved forward freely and then felt the sudden tug as the wire pulling taut. I pushed slowly but steadily on the gas and felt the van lurch to the one side. Using a little more power and I felt a tire spin for a moment and then grip. The engine whined and I heard the creak of metal as it torqued on its track.  Pushing harder I felt the van struggle to move forward, stuck against the unyielding gate.  

I needed more force.  I shifted into reverse and backed up.  I glanced up at the rear view mirror and felt the icy grip of fear fill my mind.  Two figures hobbled  inside the facility, moving slowly toward the gate. My fears were confirmed. Something must have happened to Lou and now they were inside. They lurched awkwardly on their undead feet, shuffling steadily toward the gate. Perhaps there were only two.  Two was easy, two was manageable.  I backed up toward the gate, my bumper nudging the cold steel and causing it to rock slightly back and forth. As the walkers reached the bars they stretched their arms between them, idly grazing their slow, disgusting fingers along the back. Their arms were fully extended through the gate, but the slats were too narrow for their heads and they banged their foreheads mercilessly in frustration as they tried to lay hold of my vehicle. 

I pushed hard on the gas, pulling away rapidly. As the momentum of the van hit the gate I felt a momentary tug.  My mind flashed, worried that I would be unsuccessful and that either the bumper or the wire would break, but with a large creak and the sound of grinding metal the felt the gate tear free. It crashed to the ground with a tremendous clatter, bringing with it my pair of undead attackers. I drove as rapidly as I could, carrying a fence gate almost twice as tall as my car, and laden with two snarling, snapping monsters in tow. 

When I was a kid my uncle took me out on the lake to go waterskiing. I was awful at it. It felt like torture, being dragged behind a boat, unable to see or move or even breathe. I tried to tell them to stop but I couldn't get their attention.  Everyone kept yelling "stand up, stand up" but every time I tried my face would slam into the water with herculean force.  I could understand how tsunamis could do so much damage because that water felt like concrete when I hit. I finally had the sense to let go and once I did the boat slowed down and circled back for me. As I floated in the water I closed my eyes, wondering how on earth anyone actually enjoyed such a horrible experience. As my uncle pulled the boat alongside me I looked up at him. "Not your cup of tea I guess" he said. He smiled, and I remember feeling a small measure of relief. The next thing I knew I was thrown a massive tube with handles all over it. Reaching up and grasping one of these handles I pulled myself onto the center of the tube.  I gave a thumbs up and felt the sudden tug of inertia propel me forward at incredible speeds. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. My uncle banked left, then right. The tube bumped effortlessly over the wake, and I remember hunching down, determined not to be tossed from its overinflated surface. He seemed to accept my challenge, and made even more drastic turns, swinging the tube across the water like skipping a stone.  It took all my effort to hold onto the handles and not fly off. Eventually, however, he hit just the right wake to send the tube flipping up into the air and upside down into the water. I emerged with a huge smile on my face and called out "I want to do that again!" 

The zombies made no such request. As I accelerated they made futile attempts to stand and I almost laughed as they comically fell over each other, desperately trying to find their footing.  I spun around the corner to the right and watched as the gate swung behind me, its momentum continuing on its path toward the buikdings.  As the tether caught, the gate twisted sideways, spiling its undead passengers across the road.  One skidded across the pavement before crashing into the building on the opposite side of the street. His limp body smashing through a storefront window and disappearing behind several stacks of books and cardboard marketing stands. The other bounced off the curb and wrapped around a telephone pole, his body crumpling like a rag doll.  I couldn't help but smile.