“Over the fence?” Allison said.
“Yep. Over,” I said.
Dave went first. We handed him our garden tools. I hoisted Allison up and over next. Josh and I climbed at the same time.
We landed in the next yard. The in-ground pool was covered. Cinder blocks held the cover in place. A tiny two-person gazebo sat alone between the pool and the back patio. Nice place. Probably had a house full of zombies inside trying to figure out how to open a door.
“Keep moving,” I said. “This house could blow at any time.”
“Should we keep following the gas line? I mean, stay on Mt. Read, or should we cut back? Go toward the street behind this one. What is it?”
“True Hickory,” Allison said.
“We could. We just follow it, and cut through the bit of woods at the end. Wind up in the Tops Friendly Market parking lot,” I said. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
I wasn’t looking for a vote. We went kiddie-corner to the back fence, and repeated the jumping over process.
Once on the other side, we knelt in a huddled circle. “With all these trees, we’ve got some cover. We’re not as visible. Let’s try staying away from the house, away from noise, and keep back here. Think we’ll be able to move faster. Once we get to Tops, I’ll figure out what next,” I said.
No arguments. All three nodded.
Sneaking through the backyards under the cover of trees was completely different from walking on streets, or sidewalks, or close to houses. This just felt fucking creepy.
Most of the Maples had lost their leaves. Every step sounded like a gunshot when crunching down on dried out foliage, and I cringed. It couldn’t be as loud as I thought. But we were making noise as we made our way north toward the parking lot. Pines were full, and their branches would soon sport clumps of snow.
Thankfully, it was a chilly November morning -- God, it was now November -- but it was not snowing. The morning air had a bite to it. At this point, it felt invigorating. Got the blood pumping.
I held up a fist. Squatted low.
Allison bumped into me.
I looked at her, at my fist and rolled my eyes.
“Really?” I said.
Josh and Dave had stopped.
“What?” Allison looked at me, head cocked to one side. Her dog-face, I always called it. Confused puppy.
“The fist. See how I have it in the air? How I stopped?”
“I see it.”
“It means stop,” I said.
“What does?” she said.
“The fist. When I do this. It means stop.”
“Says who?” She looked at Josh for support, but Josh nodded in agreement. “You knew this?”
“Even I knew it,” Dave said, laughed -- came out more as a chortle, with a pig-like snort at the end.
Josh drove an elbow into his brother’s gut. “You want to wake the dead?” He looked at me, half a smile.
Good attempt. Not funny. I ignored him. “You ever see a movie in your life, Alley? I mean, I know, remember we saw that Gulf War movie just like in July, or August? Remember when they were going in to attack the enemy and the squad leader did this, with his fist? And his whole platoon stopped. They just, they stopped?”
“You mean that two and half hour movie, the two seconds of film you’re referring to, do I remember it? No, Chase. You wanted to see that movie not me. I think I had my phone under my shirt and was on Twitter through most of it.”
Bang, zoom. Was all I could think. “Tell ya what. You see me hold up a fist, if any of us holds up a fist, if you, Alley, if you hold up a fist. We stop. We get low. We be quiet. Deal?”
“If you’d of said that before you became the squadron leader, we wouldn’t of had this terrible miscommunication. So why did we stop,” Allison said.
I looked forward. Looked around. “Shit.”
“Shit, what?” she said.
“I had something important to say.”
“But you don’t remember now?”
I gritted my teeth. Grounded them. “Let’s get to the parking lot.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I held up a fist. Everyone stopped, was quiet.
“I remembered,” I said. “When we get to the parking lot, we’re not just going to cross it. We’re going to check it out, find the best way to move back out in the open.”
Allison gave me a look. She didn’t say it, but her eyes said, Duh.
“What’s that?” Dave pointed.
I followed that direction. Something was behind one of the pine trees. I clearly saw jeans and boots protruding.
“They could be dead,” I said.
The left leg moved.
We all flinched. “Shit. Okay. Dave, Josh, you guys go around to the left. Allison and I will approach straight on. Not a sound.”
The . . . forest . . . was thicker the closer we got to Tops. It was harder and harder to see the backs of houses on either our left or right. We were in the middle of the thicket.
Allison and I did the leapfrog thing again. Moving from tree to tree. We were extra careful about where we stepped. A snapped twig, a pile of crunchy leaves, and our stealthy converging would be blown.
Allison moved ahead of me. Stopped by a fat round Maple. She pressed her back to the tree. She held up a fist.
I waited.
She looked at me, brow furrowed. She waved me to her.
I walked as silently as possible.
“I did this,” she said, holding up her fist.
“I know. I stopped.”
“But I didn’t want you to stop back there. I wanted you up here.”
I pursed my lips. Hoped they looked like I was smiling and nodded. “What?”
“It’s a kid. A teenager. Doesn’t look like a zombie.”
I peeked around the tree we hid behind. I could see the kid. The teen. He now had his arms wrapped around knees pressed to his chest. He was shivering.
I looked, saw Josh and Dave. Held up a fist.
The fist was getting old.
They stopped though.
“They coming over here?” Allison asked.
“No,” I said. “They’re not.” Her head went to one side.
“What are we going to do?”
“Cover me. Just in case he attacks. Be ready.” I stepped away from the tree. I held my arms up, the shovel in one hand, blade down.
I took steps toward the large pine.
“Hey?” I said. “Hey, kid.”
He was alert. Might be cold, but he wasn’t sleeping. He jumped to his feet.
I hadn’t noticed the Glock earlier. He held it in both hands. The barrel aimed at me. From where I stood, about ten yards away, looked like a head shot for sure. I raised my hands higher. “We’re not zombies,” I said.
“What do you want?”
“We’re just passing through.”
The kid looked left, right, real fast like. If his peripheral vision focused on anything, I’d of been surprised. He was checking his surroundings, didn’t blame him.
Wish he didn’t have a gun pointed at me. “We just want to get past you. No trouble.”
“We? How many of you are there?”
I didn’t want to throw us all under the bus, nor did I want to throw Alley under there either. “Two,” I said. “My girlfriend. She’s hiding. Doesn’t like guns.”
“Tell her to come out. I want to see her. How do I know she doesn’t have a gun pointed at my head?”
“She doesn’t.”
“But I don’t know that, do I?” He had to be about sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Aside from his jeans and work boots, he had on a grey hoodie over a maroon Greece Cardinals Football shirt and jean jacket. He wore the hood. I couldn’t see his eyes. They were overcast in shadows. I couldn’t see much else, actually, beyond the front of the handgun pointed at me. “Put the shovel down, and have her come out.”
“I am not going to have her come out. She’s not a threat.”