“That fucking smites more then when I got hit in the gumnuts by a boomerang. I don’t recommend getting bitten by a zombie to anyone,” said John rubbing his shoulder, remembering the pain of the bite.
Leo almost cracked a smile at that, which I would bet was John’s plan. He was a lot like me, we both use humor to diffuse uncomfortable situations.
“I passed the first aid kit I took from the ute to John to take care of his wound,” Leo said. “He looked at me and curled his lip. He nodded a thank you and sat on the couch. I sat across from him, watching him as he poured antiseptic over the bite, he didn’t bother to bandage it up.”
“Seemed like it needed air,” John mumbled. I grinned to myself. Again, it was exactly something I would say.
“I remember Kyle questioned me about my skill with the kukri. I didn’t really have an answer for him. The truth is - I had probably sliced the air with the damn thing ten times since I got it, but killing those zombies out there came almost naturally to me. I couldn’t explain it. I felt different.” Leo said. “We sat quietly; John flicked the television, each channel showing the same thing, people attacking people, warnings to stay inside. I wondered what he was thinking, he wasn’t really paying attention to the TV, I could tell by his unmoved gaze. Suddenly almost, as if he heard me he turned around to look at me. He told me he was worried about his family back home. We talked about our lives at home for a couple of hours, I learned about his children and his wife, how close he was to his younger brother, Sean, who often got mistaken for his twin.”
“By then, it had been a couple of hours, and we didn’t seem to be turning,” interjected John. “My bite healed up really quickly, and Leo’s did too. Within those few hours both of our bites were gone.”
“By then, Kyle had climbed onto a single bed in one of the rooms and was snoring away, I felt tired myself but I was too paranoid to close my eyes. More hours passed, we circled the house numerous times, watching carefully through the blinds on the street outside, a couple of cars went by but other than that, not much movement was detected. I kept my backpack on my shoulders, ready to run if I have to. We kept the light turned off, limiting ourselves to the illumination the TV created in the living room. I found a gym bag in the main bedroom and emptied it from the dirty sweaty clothes. Rampaging through the kitchen I filled the bag with whatever non-perishable foods I could find, and filled a couple of empty bottles I found with water.”
John interrupted again, “That’s when it got ugly.”
“This is my story,” said Leo, eyeing John. “I will tell it how I want too. Anyways, I placed the bag on the couch in the living room and turned, aiming to check on Kyle who was still sleeping, when John grabbed me by the wrist, and told me something wasn’t right. It seemed as if we automatically attuned to each other, we moved in unison. John was ahead of me with his gun ready. We moved down the dark hallway towards the bedroom where Kyle was asleep, when we came across an opened cellar door I did not recall seeing earlier. We continued until we found ourselves outside the bedroom, I slowly pushed the door, squeaking as it swerved open. We heard a growl, Kyle was pinned in the bed by a zombie, one of its hands covering Kyle’s mouth, I could see his body pulsating underneath the weight, the zombie had taken a chunk right out of his neck, and the bed was covered with his blood. The zombie pounced towards John; he fired before it could reach him, throwing it backwards behind the bed. I ran over to Kyle and placed a sheet over his neck, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, his body still shaking, unable to speak; he looked at me his eyes wide.”
“Poor Kyle,” said John.
“Kyle grabbed my arm tightly, to the point it felt it was going to break and his expression changed from fear to hatred in seconds. John must have sensed the change and grabbed me by the shoulders. He pulled me backwards, forcing me free from Kyle’s hand. I watched in horror as he pointed the gun at his head, just as the zombie he shot before jumped over from behind the bed throwing him backwards outside the door. I leaped up to my feet and sprinted to the front door, Kyle hot on my tail. I ran onto the road and my eyes met with the bright lights of a truck that had stopped in the middle of the street. That’s when you, Victor, yelled ‘Ma’am get down!’ I yelled back that Kyle was my responsibility. I turned around and took the kukri out of its sheath, swinging it downward like an axe, splitting Kyle’s skull in two. His body dropped; I had just killed my friend. I freed my kukri of his skull, wiped it, and then holstered it back to its sheath. That’s when I turned around now to face the mysterious man and the special kid that was looking at me through the back window.
I could hear John coming; I knew he was going to be interested in these two survivors.”
13. The Work Begins
After Leo’s story, we all decided that we’d better get some sleep. By the time we’d finished talking, it was almost three in the morning, and we were exhausted. We said our good nights; Mom took Leo and John to their rooms, right across the hallway from the suite I share with Max. Mom agreed to sleep in my room, in case Max woke up and was afraid. I needed some time to think, both to clear my head and to formulate the plan for defending against an attack, so I said I’d take watch for the rest of the night. I walked out to the truck, and opened the back gate. I grabbed my black Maglite, picked up Candi’s body, carried it to one of the storage rooms, and laid her on a wooden table. I pulled back the cover and laid my hand on her cold forehead.
“Candi, I’ll keep Max safe.” I said. “I’ll defend him with my life, and I’ll learn from my mistakes and I will not let any more harm come to him. Watch over us, and help if you can. I love you. Goodbye.” I kissed her forehead, covered her back up and headed out to start the work.
My first stop was to my old bedroom. It was a separate one room building, originally part of a dog kennel complex added to the property in the early 1900's. Cinder block construction with small high windows, it was a good solid building. Inside was my gun safe. I hope Candi wasn’t too angry now that I’d lied to her all those years ago when I told her I got rid of my guns. Inside the safe, wrapped in oil cloth were two pistols, my Sig Saur P226 .40 caliber and my first handgun, a Glock 17.9mm. Each had a spare magazine, and a box of bullets. Beside the pistol shelves, in the taller section, was my grandfathers Winchester 12 gauge Sx3. When I inherited it, I’d added the eleven round extension tube. It was a long gun, but I was outside, and I liked the idea of double-aught buck shot.
I had a shoulder holster for the Sig, and an inside the waistband holster for the Glock, so I took the shoulder holster and the shotgun, plus a vest pocket full of shells, and started to walk the perimeter of the property. Out behind my room was a large forty-acre field. Behind that, was a marshy creek. I was glad for the light the full moon provided.
One time when I was younger, I was bush hogging that field, and buried my tractor up over the back wheels. Even in the hottest part of the summer, that area stayed wet and mucky. It would be impossible for any normal zombies to walk over; they would sink up to their armpits. That marshy area led to the river that bordered the property on the south-west side. The river went under a bridge on Route 15, and turned to parallel the road for about two miles before heading off to empty into the Rapidan. The Robinson River was about thirty feet wide, ranged from mid-thigh to well over my head in depth, and ran fast and cold. For twenty years, the sportsman’s club upstream had been stocking the river with trout, and over that time, it had become one of the best trout fishing rivers on the east coast. It was hard to walk through, if the zombies ever formed up into ‘wandering hordes’ like in those ‘of the dead’ movies, I hoped that the river would be a natural barrier. That was a large part of my defensive plan. I knew that super zombies could get around, over or through it, but it was better than nothing, and would channel the undead down to a few specific areas where we could set up lanes of fire.