I watch the streets, straining my eyes against the dark. Little light comes from the crescent moon and stars and most of the street lights have gone out. There are no lights on, from what we can see, in any of the buildings and there is no one around. Total silence in an otherwise busy place. Not a whisper from even the wind in this ghost town.
I start to doubt whether Chad, his wife Crystal, or their son, Clive, could still be here but will not allow the thought of them being dead, or infected to dwell. I wonder, who those people where that we had killed back on the highway. Those people, possibly living in these neighborhoods before they were attacked and infected. It's a strange thought. Every zombie was once a person. Every zombie lived in a home, had a family and friends. If things were different they may even be going to work today. Instead they kill or are killed in vicious ways. It is a very unforgiving disease . . . or infection.
There is movement to our right and we both spin towards it, stopping in our tracks. I slowly, quietly, pull out a pistol from one of the bags on the side of the bike. There is noise coming from inside of one of the houses. It is muffled slightly but is definitely there.
"So?" I say to Josh, moving forward, towards the house.
"No . . ." he replies. "Leave it, whatever it is." I knew it wasn't worth it, but my curiosity was getting the best of me. The noise was growing. "Please," Josh says. "Don't."
I lower the gun and place it back into the bag. We continue to walk in silence during the night until, about six hours after the event on the highway Josh points to a house several down on the right. "That's it," he says. We get to the front and lay the bike down in the front yard. I take my M21, and Josh his M4, and we walk up the steps.
The lights are off and there is no sound coming from inside of the house. The door is closed and locked. "Hello," I say as loud as I dare. "Hello, Chad? You there?" There is no response.
"Should we try the back door?" I say. "I don't want to break the door down. May be too loud." We go around back and there is a sliding glass door. The glass has been busted out and litters the patio and inside carpet of the house. It crunches under our feet. Even the smallest noise in the quiet that surrounds us sounds like a bull-horn. As if there are creatures waiting specifically for our noise.
The house was dark. Too dark for us to see anything easily. Our eyes were adjusted to the dark outside, but this, without the dim light from the moon was almost impossible to see.
There is a light suddenly and I jump, turning to see Josh, with a light shinning from under his guns barrel. "Forgot I had it attached," he said. There was one on mine as well and after fidgeting with it for a minute or so I got it on. before me was a body, lying still, its head completely detached from its body. I feel like throwing up but still run to the body. It is a zombie. Not Chad. I raise my gun up and see on the bricks of a fireplace a note written in white spray-paint:
WE ARE ALIVE
COSTCO
WEST ON GALLERIA
FOOD AND MEDICAL
"Josh," I say in a loud whisper. There is no answer. "Josh!" I say a bit louder. Nothing. I hear a noise and quickly shut off my light. Straining my eyes to see I look through the house to the back door, hoping to see a silhouette. There is nothing. I can hear my heart beat in my ears and am sure that if there is anyone else in this house they can hear it, too. I point my gun in front of me and walk towards the door. Just before I get to the gap where the glass is broken I hear a crunch and a form appears in front of me. A light switches on.
Josh walks towards me and I release the air I had been holding in my lungs for some time.
"You OK?" he asks.
"Yeah . . . where'd you go?"
"Thought I heard something outside and thought I'd take a quick look while you looked around their place. You find anything?"
"Yes," I point to the sign painted on the fire place. "They are at Costco."
"Anyone else in the house?"
"No."
"OK," Josh looks down for a moment. "I need to rest . . . before we leave or I will be no good to you."
I agree and decide that we should each take an hour nap, and then we can rest once at Costco. Josh goes into another back room, lays down on a bed--I can hear the springs--and falls asleep quickly. It is getting lighter outside and soon there is no need for my light to be on. I rummage through their things, searching for a map. There is nothing in the kitchen. I had assumed they'd have a pile of papers, or a junk drawer like my wife and I had, but there is nothing of the sort and I, for a moment, think they would have taken it with with them. I walk down the hall and find Chad's work room, housing his computer and desk along with a table, shelf and various gadgets strewn around the floor. I check the drawers of his computer but there is nothing helpful there. The table has nothing. But on the shelf, between some of the books, I find a roughly folded map.
For the remainder of Josh's nap I plot a course to the Costco, or at least the road that it is on. We will head west, like Chad's instructions suggest before moving down Galleria. I am hoping it is close to where I plan on it being. From the looks of the map it should be about an hours walk from here.
Josh finishes his nap and I lay down to take mine. My mind is racing with plans and fears and worries, but eventually, and faster than I would have imagined, I am asleep.
* * *
I wake with a jolt. Josh is standing over me, his gun in his hands and he is holding mine out for me.
"There is a wave of zombies coming down a few blocks from here," he says while I sit up and grab my weapon. "i'm sorry, but we need to move. From what I could see from on the roof there will be more, possible some heading our way."
I am awake suddenly and hear his words in full. He continues, "I'm going back up to the roof with the CZ 750 for a scope. I'm going to try and find where they are. I saw your map, but we may need to take a longer route if they're migrating eastward."
"OK. I'm going to get our things together and hide them in here. We'll take the pack with rounds, and one pack with food."
I separate the magazines, and loose rounds into rough areas in the bag according to type. The M21's bullets are slightly larger than the M4, and if we need to reload quickly, I do not want to look at each mag to find which I or Josh needs. The pistols I select are both 9 mm, which makes ordering easy enough. I load food: some jerky, four water bottles and four MRE's in the other bag, as well as the map. I take the bike from outside and wheel it in through the front--to avoid the glass--and in among the toys that litter Clive's room.
I meet Josh outside in the back yard.
"They are coming down this way. I think they're coming from Sacramento."
"How many?" I am sure it is a lot.
"A lot. Too many to guess. It's like the whole city was infected."
"Well let's get their quickly." I hand him the bag with the food and strap on the ammunition filled one.
We go around to the front and do not see any coming. I pull the map out of Josh's bag and consult it. We run to the end of their street and turn down a road I had thought would be best to get us to Costco. I know that if we can only get out of the suburbs we can make it.
As we turn, Josh stops me, indicating that we cannot go that way. I look at the map. "OK, over here." We run the opposite way for some time until hitting a road that heads east and we double back. We are able to make it to Costco with no incidents, but it takes us nearly five hours. Five long hours of doubling back, checking roads, moving more and more the wrong direction before heading back east to the Costco that had once been west to us. There were two times we almost were seen. Once where I walked into an alley and there, two stood, backs to us. Quickly we both backed out and went further out of our way.
But finally, five ours later, we see the Costco building, doors ripped off, and infested with zombies.
We are both too tired to fight them, or think of how to get in. If they were here, I tell myself, they'd have left a message of where to find them. Tonight we hold up in a building about a block away. It looks like a department store, but there is little left in it. I sleep first, and what a joyous thing it is. I cannot think of worry or pain or anxiety. There is only willing surrendering peace as I lay my back on the hard floor and close my eyes.
For the remainder of Josh's nap I plot a course to the Costco, or at least the road that it is on. We will head west, like Chad's instructions suggest before moving down Galleria. I am hoping it is close to where I plan on it being. From the looks of the map it should be about an hours walk from here.
Josh finishes his nap and I lay down to take mine. My mind is racing with plans and fears and worries, but eventually, and faster than I would have imagined, I am asleep.
* * *
I wake with a jolt. Josh is standing over me, his gun in his hands and he is holding mine out for me.
"There is a wave of zombies coming down a few blocks from here," he says while I sit up and grab my weapon. "i'm sorry, but we need to move. From what I could see from on the roof there will be more, possible some heading our way."
I am awake suddenly and hear his words in full. He continues, "I'm going back up to the roof with the CZ 750 for a scope. I'm going to try and find where they are. I saw your map, but we may need to take a longer route if they're migrating eastward."
"OK. I'm going to get our things together and hide them in here. We'll take the pack with rounds, and one pack with food."
I separate the magazines, and loose rounds into rough areas in the bag according to type. The M21's bullets are slightly larger than the M4, and if we need to reload quickly, I do not want to look at each mag to find which I or Josh needs. The pistols I select are both 9 mm, which makes ordering easy enough. I load food: some jerky, four water bottles and four MRE's in the other bag, as well as the map. I take the bike from outside and wheel it in through the front--to avoid the glass--and in among the toys that litter Clive's room.
I meet Josh outside in the back yard.
"They are coming down this way. I think they're coming from Sacramento."
"How many?" I am sure it is a lot.
"A lot. Too many to guess. It's like the whole city was infected."
"Well let's get their quickly." I hand him the bag with the food and strap on the ammunition filled one.
We go around to the front and do not see any coming. I pull the map out of Josh's bag and consult it. We run to the end of their street and turn down a road I had thought would be best to get us to Costco. I know that if we can only get out of the suburbs we can make it.
As we turn, Josh stops me, indicating that we cannot go that way. I look at the map. "OK, over here." We run the opposite way for some time until hitting a road that heads east and we double back. We are able to make it to Costco with no incidents, but it takes us nearly five hours. Five long hours of doubling back, checking roads, moving more and more the wrong direction before heading back east to the Costco that had once been west to us. There were two times we almost were seen. Once where I walked into an alley and there, two stood, backs to us. Quickly we both backed out and went further out of our way.
But finally, five ours later, we see the Costco building, doors ripped off, and infested with zombies.
We are both too tired to fight them, or think of how to get in. If they were here, I tell myself, they'd have left a message of where to find them. Tonight we hold up in a building about a block away. It looks like a department store, but there is little left in it. I sleep first, and what a joyous thing it is. I cannot think of worry or pain or anxiety. There is only willing surrendering peace as I lay my back on the hard floor and close my eyes.
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