Will reached the end of the front section of wall and turned to face the two men. “So far, it’s all solid. And from the looks of it, it’s probably stabilized, rammed earth.”
“What’s that?” Buck asked.
Hatcher pointed to the discoloration in the walls that formed waves. “They layer the earth in a form then hydraulically mash it until it’s like stone. The little streaks of grey is where they didn’t get the cement mixed in well with the soil.”
“You are correct, sir,” Will agreed as he slipped his hammer back into the holster. “I can walk the perimeter and check the rest of the structure, but judging from what I’m seeing, odds are that it’s all rammed earth.”
“You do your thing, doc.” Hatcher pulled Buck aside. “We’re going to check out some of the houses and see what condition they’re in.”
“Do be careful, Mr. Hatcher.” Will pushed his glasses back up onto his nose as he spoke. “Although the Zulus have been exposed to the cure…”
Hatcher nodded. “Understood. You be careful as well.” He glanced to Buck. “Do you want somebody to come with you?”
Will turned and looked down the length of the wall. “I think I’ll be safe.” He gave the pair a mock salute. “I’ll catch up with you shortly.”
Hatcher and Buck went to the first house and pushed open the gate. “They don’t look very old, do they?”
“I think the people who could afford these homes had a tendency to keep them maintained.” He paused at the door and rattled the knob. “I’d bet they’re older than you are.”
Buck stepped off the porch and cupped his hands to the window. “Looks empty.”
“I’m sure it is.” Hatcher stared up at the second floor windows then across at the dining room window. “I would say let’s check the back but…” He leaned out and looked at the other houses on the block. “Let’s just find one that’s open.”
The pair broke away and went house to house, rattling door knobs and investigating the houses that were unlocked.
Buck grinned as he stomped down the stairs of the latest. “Each house we look at, I’m thinking, ‘Ooh, I like this one. I could see me and Skeeter living here!’ then we go to the next and I find something else cool that I like.”
Hatcher waved him to the next house. “You can’t have them all.” He peered at the solid oak door and reached for the knob. “You’ll have to pick one and stick to it.”
“I’m not keen on moving more than once.” Buck laughed.
As Hatcher tried the knob, the door opened and a screech followed by a flutter had both men diving to the sides, their screams muted only by the screams of what flew out the front.
Hatcher rolled to his back and laughed as a huge parrot flew across the street and into a nearby tree. “How the flying fuck…?”
Buck came to his knees and grumbled a few epithets at the cartoonish bird. “I wonder how he survived this long?” He stepped up to the door and pushed it open.
He stood aside as Hatcher came up behind him and they both stared in disbelief. The entire house was covered in bird shit. “I don’t think this one will make the list,” Buck muttered as he stepped gingerly over the growing piles.
“How in the world…?” Hatcher trailed off.
Buck pointed to an oversized aquarium. “I bet he was drinking from that.”
“But what was he eating?” Hatcher turned the corner into the kitchen and froze. A stack of ripped open bird seed and assorted treats were scattered around the floor. “Well. I guess that answers that.”
Buck sighed as he turned back to the front door. “That stupid pigeon scared about ten years off my life.”
“I didn’t have ten years to spare,” Hatcher grumbled as he pulled the door shut.
The pair stood on the front stoop and eyed the other houses. “What do you figure? Maybe a third is open?”
Hatcher shrugged. “Maybe closer to half.” He slapped the young man across the shoulder. “Onward and upward.”
The pair walked to the next house and Buck let loose a low whistle. “I like this one already.” He pointed to the open garage and the red convertible sitting inside.
“You can have it,” Hatcher muttered. “I’ve never had very good luck with little sports cars.”
Buck chuckled as he walked through the garage and gave it the once over. “Something tells me that there’s a story involved there.”
Hatcher shook his head. “I was young and dumb once.” He glanced at Buck and smirked. “Her name was Rhonda. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.” He reached for the door leading into the house and found it unlocked. “Care to see your future home?”
Buck stepped inside and quickly stepped out. “I think somebody left the fridge open.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Or maybe there’s a body inside?”
Hatcher pulled the door shut. “I guess you can still claim the car.”
The pair walked out and stared down the line of houses. “I think it’s safe to say that the majority of these are habitable.”
“Unless everybody’s pets took up residence.” Buck muttered. They saw Will walking along the far wall, still tapping away. “Should we join him?”
“Let’s check a few more houses.” Hatcher turned and stared down the next block. “Those up by the road have privacy walls around them.” He gave Buck a grin. “I think I’ll claim one of those.”
“If you take the one on the corner, then I elect you to man the new gate as well,” Buck quipped.
Hatcher stopped and gave him a hard look. “I thought I was the leader of this ragtag group of functional basket cases.”
Buck snorted as he walked past him. “You gotta retire some time.”
Directly after meeting the eight surviving members that made up the CDC, Broussard had already forgotten most of
