The men slowly moved around the enormous home, trying to access the rear yard, but came up against a ten-foot stone wall with an even taller gate constructed of heavy lumber that surrounded a tennis court. Jared and company skirted the tennis court, finally gaining access to the backyard where the stone wall ended and a deer fence took over. Much to everyone’s relief, there was a large rectangular pool filled nearly to the top with greenish water. Jared shimmied out of his pack and retrieved his water-purification pump. One by one, each man filled their water containers, using Jared’s purification pump, while the other two men watched the house and surrounding area for any sign of maleficence.
Once their water bottles were topped off with filtered pool water, the three moved off the mansion’s property and continued north. Barry’s feet were doing much better, so John decided to avoid the roadways. They cut across roads, but never followed them as they forged their way straight through the town of Portola Valley. Many times, they either passed straight through residential properties or moved around them, but always headed north. Barry told the two other men that, at some point, they would hit a road called Alpine Road, and as soon as they did, they needed to follow it east till Barry recognized a cross street.
Barry told them that once he found a street he recognized, he would be oriented, and they could go straight to Dwight’s house. Barry estimated they would be there before day’s end. A little after 1300 hours, the trio found Alpine Road, and fifteen minutes after that, Barry directed them onto Portola Road heading north. Portola Road ran directly through a highly populated area, forcing Jared and his friends to walk in various front yards in order to stay off the road.
This style of movement proved to be a royal pain in the neck, but was a better alternative than walking down the middle of the road and getting ambushed by someone who could see them coming from a mile away. There were enough trees, bushes, and vehicles to mask much of the group’s movements, helping ease John’s anxiety about being in a heavily (or formerly heavily) populated area. The trio hadn’t seen a soul but could smell death everywhere and figured most of it was emanating from the houses along Portola Road.
Barry directed John down an adjacent street, which wound up into the foothills leading to the West. “Not too much farther,” Barry wheezed, the exertion from the last few days obviously taxing his body, which was not conditioned for this level of physical activity.
Barry’s feet didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but still, John harped on him every hour to get into dry socks and evaluate whether the moleskin was holding strong. If a piece was peeling even in the slightest, John would have Barry tear the entire piece off and reapply new material.
“This is it,” Barry croaked as the trio came upon the grand driveway complete with opulent wrought-iron gates and a stone wall that stood easily eight feet tall. The wall was a double stack wall, which Dwight had spared no expense on having built. A Galloway-dyke-style wall would have served the same purpose and been much cheaper, but Dwight insisted on the very best.
“Does the guy have guns, and is he the type to shoot first and ask questions later?” John wondered out loud as he squinted in the bright afternoon sun.
“I should probably go in and talk to him. Before all this, he didn’t like people coming to the house, so I’m guessing now he’s really not into taking guests—and yes, he has guns,” Barry informed them.
John looked at Jared for any input, but Jared only shrugged indifferently, telling John this was Barry’s guy, so Barry probably new best how to make contact.
“Okay, you go in there and talk him out. If there is any shooting, Jared and I are coming in, so make sure you let us know where you are. Holler and we’ll do the same. Don’t want any of us shooting each other,” John instructed, a look of seriousness etched across his bearded face.
Jared and John assisted Barry over the stone wall and then followed after him.
Barry turned as the two men dropped to the ground inside the estate, a look of concern on his face. “You guys can’t come with me.”
“We aren’t,” John said. “But we will be closer in case this Dwight cat isn’t as friendly as you remember—you remember Lando, don’t you?” John said with a sly smirk.
Barry immediately got the movie reference and smiled broadly. For a moment, the competitive tension between John and Barry disappeared as they bonded over this movie reference. Jared, not being the type to watch many movies before the solar flare, was the odd man out and did not understand the reference.
Barry’s smile faded as he thought about his friend not being so friendly. Slowly he turned and started up the driveway. A few moments later, John and Jared heard Barry calling out in the distance.
“Dwight! Hey, Dwight, it’s me, Barry!” the man bleated in the distance.
Jared waited for gunfire, but none came. Barry gave a few more calls, and then there was silence on the property. Jared sat next to John, listening intently, trying to discern whether he could hear voices coming from the direction of the house. He heard only the breeze passing across the leaves in the surrounding trees. Jared saw John look at his watch several times as they waited, and could tell he was getting either impatient or worried. If Barry went up to this friend of his and got
