security of the complex was part of the reason we had moved here. The other was monetary; we couldn’t afford anything better. The two northern entrance points had large, card activated chain-link fence gates. The two southern facing gates had nothing. That made no sense to me. Did the designers just hope that a criminal, upon seeing the northern gates, wouldn’t try another avenue to gain entry? Although the residents would be up a creek if said criminal came this way first. I’d like to have said they were getting ready to install the gates but I’d lived here for almost two years and I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a construction crew.
A large RV had been toppled on its side, completely covering the first entrance. It was placed with entirely too much precision to have been an accident. There wasn’t a gap on either side; this passageway was closed. We would have to walk another two hundred yards to the next opening. Hope surged. It appeared that a defense had been mounted at the Little Turtle housing community. As we got closer to the next entrance I saw a school bus, this one still on its wheels. The passenger side of the school bus covered most of the entrance. The only parts that were vulnerable to entry were towards the front end and underneath the bus itself. This would have been unsettling if we were dealing with a conventional enemy, but that bulk was going to stop ninety-nine percent of the zombies that attacked it. Smart bastard, whoever thought of that, I thought admiringly.
“Stop right there!” a voice shouted at us.
“I’m not in the mood for this crap!” I yelled in response.
The cocking, clicking and other sounds of multiple firearms being made ready got me in the mood in a hurry.
“What about now?” I heard the dry voice from within the bus ask.
The boys were confused. Sure, they had fought valiantly against the zombies, but once again we were outnumbered, and this time outgunned.
“Justin, Travis,” I said as I turned, slowly. “Put your weapons on the ground, SLOWLY.” I did the same.
“What business do you have here?” The raspy voice asked again.
I knew that voice. “Jed? Jed is that you?” Jed was a member on the Board of Directors for our HOA. I hate HOA’s. Never before have I had so many people interested in my personal business. Jed had once written me up for putting my trash out at 5:30 at night when the bylaws said we couldn’t put the trash out until 6:00 p.m. I couldn’t even fathom how he caught me; he lived clear on the opposite side of the complex. I hated that man, but right now I wanted to kiss him.
“Yeah, it’s Jed, who might you be?” came the terse reply.
“It’s Mike, Mike Talbot, Unit 103.”
Still no acknowledgment.
“You remember, we had that heated discussion about my trash going out early.”
Heated discussion didn’t even begin to describe how this event went down. I had called him every filthy name I could think of and I was a former Marine so you know I had a deep arsenal. I was eventually thrown out of the meeting, and not of my own accord. I was bodily removed. It’s not one of my prouder moments in life, and I eventually sucked up my pride and went to his house to apologize. He had blanched when I showed up at his door, probably thinking I was going for round two. We weren’t exactly friends after my mitigation but the hostility was gone, or at least buried under a few layers of civility.
He grunted. That was his acknowledgment. So maybe a few of those layers had been removed during this first night of death. “Are any of your lot bitten?” he asked.
“No,” was all I could reply.
“Byron, move the bus,” Jed commanded.
“Thank you Jed.” Relief washed over me. My legs had nearly given out.
Again he grunted, but he loved this, he loved being in control. Right now that was fine with me. I could almost guarantee that he was the one who had orchestrated this defense.
As we were making our way through the small opening, I looked up to meet his eyes. Jed said offhandedly, “your daughter and her fiancee are here.”
My wife and I both let out a cry of relief. A big shit-eating grin came across my face.
“Open that door!” I told Jed, pointing to the emergency hatch at the back of the bus. He looked at me questioningly. “I’m gonna come up there and give you a big kiss.” I started pulling on the handle. Jed was throwing his weight into the other side thwarting my attempt at entry.
“Get your queer ass outta here Talbot!” Jed bellowed. “I ain’t haven no pasty assed man kiss me.”
I let go of the emergency handle. “Fine Jed, have it your way,” I said as I was heading away. I noticed a small smile curve his lips. It was gone as quick as it had come.
“Talbot!” he yelled to my back.
I turned. “You having second thoughts about that kiss? The offer still stands,” I answered coquettishly.
“Be at the clubhouse tomorrow at 7:00 a.m., and clean yourself up, ya smell like shit!” he voiced.
I waved. “Thank you Jed,” came my solemn reply.
CHAPTER 6 
Journal Entry - 6
Our weary band of travelers headed for the front door. Sir Licks-A-Lot and the rest of his merry gang were nowhere to be seen. Must have been one hell of a firefight, I thought. My greeting for Nicole was brief and intense. I think I would have sobbed with relief if I wasn’t so exhausted. She gave her mother a huge hug and then bounded to me for the same; we embraced for a second before she pulled away, nose crinkled in disgust.
“I know I smell like crap, I know,” I said before she could beat me to the punch. I wanted to go soak in a hot shower in the worst way. It almost hurt. But once Nicole got to talking, not much was going to divert her. We briefly recounted the highlights of our Wal-Mart rescue. I completely skipped over the little girl, trying my best to hide her in a remote fold in the darkest corners of my brain. It was my turn now to ask how Nicole and Brendon got here. I settled in and made myself comfortable. Even on a regular night Nicole would give me every detail of their journey, down to the minutiae of what color vest the cashier was wearing at the gas station.
I nodded to Brendon, he nodded in return, she had most likely already recounted the entire trip for him, and he had been there. He sat down heavily on the loveseat. Stress that had been etched on his face was only just now beginning to ease.
“So luckily,” she began, “we were already on our way over. We wanted to get some of the boxes we have piled in your basement out to our new place…”
Travis interrupted from the kitchen. I could hear him open the refrigerator and then close it quickly, obviously not having found what he was looking for.
“I’m going to get drinks, does anybody want anything?” he yelled from the kitchen.
Everyone had a request, even Tommy. “Do you have any Yoo-Hoo?” he asked.
I shook my head. “We’ll get some tomorrow if we can,” I answered as I saw the disappointment on his face.
“Pepsi will be fine.” Tommy’s head was bowed.
“Coke alright?” Travis asked.
“I guess that’ll have to do,” came Tommy’s reply.
I heard the back door and then the screen open and shut. I was listening to Nicole’s account, when I abruptly jumped off the couch like my ass was on fire. My foot caught the edge of the coffee table as I went down screaming. Screaming not from the pain but for what laid in wait. My ‘man-fridge’ was located in the garage. At one time it had mostly been stocked with beer, but it had became a lot easier to just put all of our beverages in there, coke, juice, extra milk, whatever.
Tracy’s face froze as she saw the sheer look of terror flit across my features.
“What’s the matter?” she shrieked.
I scrambled to gain purchase.
I distantly heard Tommy. “Coke’s fine, Mr. T!!” he bawled, reacting to my dread.
I was in a nightmare. I couldn’t move fast enough, the ground was sucking me down. Gravity became a fiend. I weighed too much to move effectively. My feet were slipping and sliding on the area rug, but I finally gained purchase. Unfortunately, once I hit wood I had too much thrust and slammed into the wall as I turned left into the hallway. I heard more than felt the snap of impact as I dislocated my shoulder. The pain was blinding, the pain was
