The Reckoning - 02 (16 page)

             
“Are you alright?” she asked, wide-eyed.

             
It took me a second to calm down before I could answer. The dreams had been so vivid that I wanted to be sure this wasn’t another one.

             
“I think so,” I managed to say, panting.

             
“Good,” grumbled Gunny. “Then shut the fuck up.”

             
“I love you, too, Guns,” I replied.

             
April came over to me and sat on the bed. Part of me expected her to turn into a zombie and attack me. When that didn’t happen, I began to calm down. It took a few minutes. When I’d regained my composure, she smiled.

             
“Want to talk about it?” she asked, gently.

             
“Not really,” I replied. “Just a bad dream. How’s Gunny?”

             
“He’s good,” she said, shaking her head. “Grumpy, but good.”

             
“He’s always grumpy,” I returned, giving her a smile of my own. “It’s part of his charm.”             

             
“Yeah, I’m a regular
Miss Fucking Congeniality
,” he growled back.

             
“He’s doing a lot better,” she said, quietly. “But he’s going to need bed-rest for a while. He lost a lot of blood. It might be a while before he can use that arm, again.”

             
“He’ll have to stay here with you,” I said, thinking out loud.

             
“He’s welcome to. I won’t mind the company.”

             
I sat up and put my feet on the floor. They hurt, but felt better. I got stiffly to my feet and stretched. I glanced over at Gunny, but he had his eyes closed. His face was still very pale. He looked like he’d aged a decade.

             
“Come on,” said April. “Let’s eat something. I already fed him and he needs his rest. I gave him another shot and it should be kicking in, soon.”

             
I slipped my boots back on and zipped the sides. Then we went over to the little table, where she had oatmeal with honey and blueberries. Nothing warms the soul like a good bowl of oatmeal. I ate two.

17 April

             
The next couple of days passed swiftly. My feet continued to get better after numerous dousings in Epsom salts and anti-biotic ointment. I was no longer sure of what day of the week it was, but I felt like a new man. Gunny looked better, but he was still battling a mild fever. April was giving him antibiotics and fluids, but it was taking time. I knew I’d have to leave him with her.

             
After breakfast of my third day there, I began to organize my gear. I decided to only take the guns that I would need. I kept my two Berettas, the Long Colt, the Keltec Shotgun and the M-4. The rest would stay here with April and Gunny. I loaded plenty of ammo for all of them.

             
April loaded me up with easy meals. Several cans of stew, three boxes of pop tarts and four big bags of trail mix. She also loaded up four old military surplus canteens and put them into my pack. By the time I was done with the weapons, she had my ration pack ready. She’d even included a big box of dog biscuits for Odin. Then I shouldered the pack and checked the weight. It was manageable and I nodded my appreciation.

             
“I think this’ll do,” I said, grinning.

             
“So, when are you planning on leaving?” she asked, a note of sadness in her voice.

             
“It’s early morning, still,” I replied. “Might as well get going.”

             
“You can’t wait another day?”

             
I considered it, but decided against it.

             
“I’d better not,” I said, softly. “I need to get moving.”

             
“I understand,” she said, looking down.

             
“Hey,” I said, lifting her chin with my index finger. “Don’t look so sad. I’ll come back for you, once I get to the jail and grab a Humvee.”

             
“Promise?” she softly pleaded, her eyes wet.

             
“Promise,” I replied.

             
I finished putting together my gear. I tucked my hammer into my belt and slipped my compass around my neck. Then I slid my combat knife back into my boot and checked the load on all of the weapons. Content that I’d done all I could, I headed towards the door. Odin saw me and quickly trotted across the room to join me.

             
“I knew he’d be going with you,” she said, grinning.

             
“He’s my friend,” I said. “If I did leave him, he’d run off after me the first time you let him out to use the bathroom.”

             
“I figured that, too,” she said, shaking her head.

             
“Tell Gunny I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

             
“I will,” she said.

             
I glanced out the little window in the door to check the area. When I didn’t see anything, I unlocked the door and swung it open. The warm air rushed in to greet me. I quickly locked and loaded the M-4 and stepped out the door. Odin sniffed the air and then bounded up the stairs.

             
“Be careful,” said April, from behind me.

             
“I will,” I assured her. “Go ahead and lock the door.”

             
She looked at me for a long moment before nodding and slipping back inside. I waited to hear the lock engage before I climbed the stairs to ground level. Odin was in the process of marking a fence post when I emerged into the light. Slipping my sunglasses on and adjusting my wide-brimmed hat, I glanced around the area. Content there were no threats in the immediate area, I headed off towards the road.

-
The Havamal

              I followed the road sticking to the trees, until I reached a hill where I could see the edge of Nixa. Then I headed west, overland. My plan was to by-pass Nixa entirely, and then cross through fields until I cleared the small town of Battlefield. Beyond that, my plan was kind of sketchy. I still hadn’t figured out exactly what I was going to do once I reached Springfield. I just had to hope I’d get lucky and find a working vehicle.

             
It was mid-afternoon when I finally put Nixa behind me. Odin and I ate our lunch without stopping to rest. I munched on trail mix while he crunched down about a dozen dog treats. It wasn’t great, but it was all I felt comfortable with this close to town. It was nearly dark when we reached the river. I was about a quarter of a mile up-stream from the bridge we’d driven over on our way out of town. Fortunately, the water never got above my knees.

             
I knew we’d have to find a place to spend the night, and soon. I didn’t want to be walking through the woods in the dark. Using a flashlight would only attract attention to us, and we didn’t want that. So when I found a hay-barn in a field behind a large farm-house, I figured it was as good a place as any. The sun was slipping below the horizon when I swept the barn. Odin didn’t growl, so I felt a little more at ease.

             
I shut the door behind us and used my flashlight to find our way to the back of the barn. I found the hoist they used to haul hay bales into the loft and used it to raise Odin up. Then I climbed up the ladder. I did a quick check of the loft before I relaxed. It was empty. Odin found himself a loose pile of hay and lay down.

I fished out two cans of stew and opened them both. One went into an old tin bucket for Odin. He began devouring his, immediately. I ate mine more slowly and ended up giving Odin the last half. After so long with April, I had gotten used to warm meals
again, and could hardly eat the cold stew. Odin had no such problems. Afterwards, we both bedded down for the night and I turned off the flashlight. Within minutes, we were both asleep. Mercifully, I didn’t dream.

18 April

I awoke just before sunrise. The air was chilly, but that wasn’t what had roused me from my sleep. I lay there quietly, breathing softly
and listening to the darkness. I didn’t have to wait long before I heard it again. This time, my brain registered the noise. It was gunshots. They weren’t very close, but were distinct in the early morning stillness. It was a single shot weapon. I could tell by the hesitation between rounds.

I moved over to the loft window and opened it. I strained to see in the direction of the shooting, but couldn’t see very far in the darkness.
As the false light of pre-dawn began to grow, I could see movement to the west. Grabbing my binoculars, I tried to zoom in on it. There wasn’t enough light for me to make out any details, but it looked like a man trying to get away from a crowd of
Shamblers.

I could tell he was having trouble walking. He managed to drop six more of them before he ran out of ammo. Then, it was all over. They were on him. I watched in horror as they tore him apart. There
was nothing I could have done for him, even if I tried. He was just too far away. I’d have never made it to him in time.

T
hat meant that a sizeable group of
Shamblers
was in the general area and I didn’t want to be trapped in a hay-loft. Quickly, I lowered Odin down and climbed back down the ladder. Slipping out the opposite side of the barn, I decided to put some distance between us and the zombies.

By the time the sun came up, I was
nearing the town of Battlefield. I headed west again, through more fields. I crossed into the old Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield. Briefly, I considered ransacking the place for gear, but I figured that it would all be too old to be of any use. Following the creek, I headed around Battlefield and towards Springfield.

I stopped to check the area with my binoculars when we reached M Highway. Not seeing any zombies, we crossed under the bridge as quickly as we could. Once past the bridge, we found the Greenways Trail that I knew would lead us back into town. I followed the trail past an old Civil War Era graveyard. Fortunately, they’d all been dead far too long to come back as a zombie.

When we approached West By-pass, I left the trail to follow a dry run-off creek. I could see that it would take me under the by-pass and lead into a neighborhood. I could see zombies walking along the road, but thankfully there were none down below the bridge. Odin and I took our time and moved slowly through the brush until we were beneath the shadow of the bridge.

We continued to follow the dry run-off as it wound through the neighborhood. The undergrowth along the creek bed was thick enough that we could avoid being seen, if we were careful. By mid-afternoon, we emerged from the brush in a familiar area. I had to smile when I realized where we were. I was looking at the back of my own house.

I could see zombies walking around the street, but my backyard looked clear. I decided it was worth the risk and crept closer to the fence. Five minutes later, I was jimmying the lock to the sliding glass door on my back deck. I didn’t throw caution to the wind and followed my instincts. I swept the house with the shotgun.

Finding it clear, I shut the back door and slid the table and chairs in front of it. The power was out, so I lit a candle and illuminated my living room. It looked ju
st like it had when I’d left it. I went to the front door and peeked out the peep-hole. There were no zombies in the street outside, but I didn’t expect that to last.

It was nearly dark outside and I wanted to spend the night here. In order to do that, I’d have to either hope nothing noticed I was inside, or fortify the ground floor windows. Since nailing boards over the windows would make way too much noise, I opted for hoping nothing would notice. My windows were all about five feet off the ground, so I knew that anything that t
ried to get in wouldn’t have an easy time of it. That just meant that we’d have to remain quiet and not let any light out.

I spent a few minutes drawing all of the blinds. Then I used thumb tacks and hung blankets over all of the windows. Once that was complete, I headed back to the bathroom. Since water
in a city runs off of pressure not electricity, I was hopeful that the water would still work. I smiled when it came sputtering out of the tap.

There was no point
in checking the hot water. The power was off and there was no chance that the hot water heater had kept it hot this long. Still, a cold shower was better than no shower at all. I went to my closet and got out a fresh uniform, clean t-shirt and underwear. Then I took a very cold shower. It was freezing, but I enjoyed every second of it. Well, every second I could stand it.

I shaved in the shower and used the little mirror I had to
trim around the facial hair. The goatee was coming in nicely. Once I was done, I used body wash and a brush to scrub my body armor and equipment. I hung it all on the banister in the living room to dry. Next, I broke out my cleaning kit and field stripped all of the guns and cleaned them thoroughly.

Once cleaned and reloaded, I turned to other tasks. I sat out a full bowl of food for Odin, which he promptly attacked. Then I checked the bread on the counter. It wasn’
t moldy yet, so I made myself four peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Fortified with a full stomach, I got brave and opened the refrigerator. The smell of rancid milk and rotten food was nearly overwhelming. I was about to shut the door when I saw the beer.

Making a quick grab, I shut the door and fanned my nose. Then I sprayed the area with air-freshener.
I retired to my bedroom with the last eight beers in the pack. They were warm, but I didn’t care. I drank one sitting on my bed, grinning like a kid. Karen would never let me drink anything much less beer on the bed. Yeah, it was stupid but it made me smile. I knew I couldn’t afford to get drunk, so I limited myself to one beer. Well OK, two.

I was getting ready to lay down when Odin perked up his ears and growled low in his throat. Jumping up, I grabbed my shotgun and headed into the living room. I crept slowly, so I wouldn’t make any noise. One by one, I checked the ground floor windows and doors. It wasn’t until I reached the front door and peeked out the peep-hole that I saw what had alerted Odin. Four zombies were shuffling down the street, right by the end of my driveway.

I held my breath as I watched knowing that if they found us, we wouldn’t have many places to run to. None of my gear was packed and most of it was still wet. I just watched and hoped for the best. Just as they were reaching my mailbox, a cat darted out of a drain. It ran across the street and disappeared behind a house. The zombies turned in unison and headed off after the cat. I still held my breath until they were out of sight.

“Damn, boy,” I whispered. “That was close.”

Odin just looked at me and padded back into the bedroom. With another glance out the peep-hole, I turned and followed after him. Placing my weapons in easy reach and laying the big Army Colt next to me on the bed, I lay down and pulled up the covers. I could smell my wife’s perfume on the sheets. I closed my eyes and, just for a moment, everything was back to normal. I could almost feel her next to me, there in the darkness.

Without thinking, I turned to put my arm around her and the illusion faded away
as my hand fell on the cold steel of the Colt. Right then, I felt more alone than I ever had in my entire life. I wanted to scream, to cry or to curse but I couldn’t risk the noise. Instead, I moved the pistol and patted the bed with my hand.

“Come here, boy,” I whispered.

Odin was never one to pass up a chance to sleep on the furniture. It was a habit we usually tried to discourage, but this was an exception. He hopped up onto the bed and lay down. It wasn’t Karen, but at least I didn’t feel alone, anymore. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep, after that.

19 April

I awoke when sunlight started creeping in through the window. I knew from experience that it was around 0630. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I knew I had to. I planned on being back inside the jail before nightfall and
I had a lot of ground to cover in order to get there. The bad part was it was ground that was literally crawling with the undead. I was going to have to walk into the heart of downtown Springfield and the thought was almost enough to make me give in to despair.

I took a deep breath and shook it off. Then I started packing my gear. The armor and equipment were dry so I put it all back on along with the clean uniform. My feet had healed into good calluses, so I slipped on two pair of fresh socks and put my tactical boots back on.
Once all my gear was back in place and my rucksack was packed, I headed into the kitchen. I got out the sandwich bags and made four more peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Then I bagged them and put them in my pack, along with the rest of the peanut butter and honey. The last six beers went in there, too.

Moving the barricade from the sliding glass door, I checked the area and slipped outside. Odin followed right behind me. I watched his reaction, but he merely found a spot to relieve himself and ignored me. Quietly, I shut the door behind me and moved our deck chairs in front of the door, to dissuade any zombies who might wander by.

Glancing carefully around the corner, I checked to make sure the front of the house was clear before moving to the gate. Odin followed after me, sniffing the air and alert for signs of danger. Shutting the gate behind me, I moved off along the front of the house. Cautiously, I crept from house to house, staying below the windows in case a zombie was inside. I kept an eye out for houses that looked like they might have survivors, but I didn’t see anything that stood out.

When I reached the end of the block, I crossed the street in a crouch and took cover up against the last house on that side of the street. After peeking around the corner, I headed north
down the side street. I played a tense game of duck and cover for the next few blocks, until I reached Battlefield Road. I could see zombies in the distance, but nothing close to me.

Keeping between cars and staying low, we made our way across the street and slipped into the empty field on the other side.
I crawled through the fence and headed towards the tree line at the far side of the field. From there, we turned west to avoid an apartment complex and a neighborhood. Passing through the grounds around a middle school, we picked up the Greenways trail again.

Once on the
trail, it would be hard to see us from any road or houses. I could take that all the way to the park named after Nathanael Greene, who gave the county its name. After that, the Greenways Trail went into a residential area and it would be impossible to use it from there. I’d be too exposed and wouldn’t make it a hundred yards without being seen.

As we jogged along at a good pace, I had to stop short at a bend in the trail. Just ahead was what appeared to be a
Shambler
. Experience had taught me that looks could be deceiving. It could be a
Shambler
, a
Sprinter
, or worse. It might be a
Shrieker
. I could handle one
Shambler
or
Sprinter
. But a
Shrieker
would have every zombie for a mile down on me if I didn’t shut it down, fast.