‘design’ might be a little strong) to keep unfriendlies downstairs if the need ever arose. This was not going to be worth it though if everybody alive was nursing broken bones.
I ended up attaching wood to both sides and after some serious pep talking to myself I braved another walk on the wild slide. Most of the play was gone so the swaying was kept to a minimum. At one point I even let go of the handrail; I was feeling a little saucy. Still, I didn’t want anybody on this thing unless they were completely aware of their surroundings. My next bold move was to place duct tape over both light switches, the one at the foot and the head of the stairs, to keep them on twenty-four seven. This also wasn’t going to win me any brownie points with the wife but at least I’d be able to see her coming when she went to push me down the stairs. I got Travis and quickly departed the scene of my crime. It would be for the best if I wasn’t there when Tracy decided to kill me.
Work around the wall was frenetic to say the least. Whatever Jed and Alex had told the workforce to incite them had done its job all too well. Alex had decided that it would be wise to begin the project on the shorter gate sides. His reasoning being that the zombies would look for the natural openings. He had split up his workforce into two equal parts and sent them on their tasks. He was constantly driving from end to end to supervise the progress. The idea was simple enough to implement and ingenious in its design. The problem was materials. Ideally 1 inch thick metal plating (roughly 4 feet by 8 feet) attached to the wall, braced with train track thick metal support beams welded to another footer plate with 1 foot spikes driven into the ground was the optimum set up. The strengthening pylons were spaced 8 feet apart from each other. Alex had only enough of the metal plating and supports to alternate with the less strong wooden supports and only on the sides with the gates. The long walls that were on the west and east sides were all going to be supported by 1 inch thick plywood and 4 by 4’s, still a formidable defense but not nearly as imposing looking as its metal cousins. Propping the RV was proving difficult; if even a modicum of pressure was applied the roof began to buckle. This troubled Alex but with time short and work to be done, this was a problem he would have to work out later.
The biggest concerns Alex fought with all day were the gates. They were by nature the weakest points of defense but because of pressure from the residents his hands were tied on how well he could bolster them, because whatever he put up to stop the zombies had to be able to be moved in a hurry in case of a mass exodus. What people weren’t understanding was that by that point there would
CHAPTER 18 
Journal Entry - 16
I found Alex up in the southeast corner. I had only known this man for a few days and I already considered him one of my closest friends. Funny how that happens. I’ve known some acquaintances my entire adult life and I wouldn’t go to their weddings unless there was an open bar. Alex and his family had made such an impression on me he was rapidly climbing up the charts to those few who I would take a bullet for. Dramatic I know, but Marines think of these kinds of things.
“Hey Alex, how’s it going?” I asked as I clapped my hand on his shoulder.
He turned to look, a scowl on his face. “Could be better, Talbot. I could have more laborers, more material and some engineers, other than that just peachy.” Then his demeanor changed, a grin split his broad face. “Heard about your home decorating.”
I was floored, I know news travels fast especially within a closed community but this is nuts. Then I discovered my culprit. Tommy meekly waved as he hefted the two hundred pound plating into place as if it weighed nothing more than its wooden counterpart.
Alex saw who I was looking at. “I wish I had fifty of him. The kid is strong as an ox.”
I smiled back at Tommy as he held the plating in position with one hand while with the other he fiddled around in his pocket until he was rewarded with a Three-Musketeers bar.
“And he works for minimum wage,” Alex laughed.
“Alex,” I started in a serious tone. “That’s part of the reason I came to find you.” I spent the next few minutes telling him about my exit plan if everything went south. I also, to no avail, tried to get him to move closer to my house.
“I can’t move,” he bemoaned. “My wife finally feels safe. She has just stopped screaming in her sleep and she has some new friends that live around us. I know that they also provide a constant source of well-being for her. Mi amigo, I’m not even sure if what you have told me will work, although it’s a start. Ladders you say? Sounds about as safe as your sledding stairs.”
“Do you think these will work?” I asked pointing to the supports.
“For awhile,” he answered solemnly.
“That’s reassuring,” I answered caustically.
He shrugged. “What can I tell you, the walls should be fine once the stanchions are up. It’s the gates that are going to be the problem. Short of putting up a wall, I don’t know.” He shrugged again with the truth of what he left unsaid.
“That’s all the more reason you should either move in with me or at least next to me,” I told him.
Alex was no martyr. He had no desire to go down with the ship, his family meant everything to him. When it finally dawned on him that he was embarking on a doomed endeavor he wanted to rethink his choices.
“I will talk to Marta tonight.” His sickly smile did not produce much confidence.
I placed my hand again on his shoulder. “Alex, you have to do more than talk to her. You have to convince her.” His skin tone wasn’t recuperating. “Listen, her friends are welcome to move too. We’re only talking about a tenth of a mile away at most. This isn’t a coast-to-coast thing.”
My arguing wasn’t winning him over. He saw the logic in what he needed to do. It was just convincing his better half about this. His wife had always been ruled by the heart and not the head. “All right, all right, I’ll back off, for now. Just tell me where you need me and Travis to work.”
Alex’ shoulders slouched a bit in relaxation. He would talk to his wife, just not at the moment.
The day was cold, the work was hard. It was uneventful except for the occasional hammer hit to thumb, and no they weren’t all mine, I only did it twice. I was barely able to contain my tears the second time. The support beams had been completed on the two shorter gated sides and we had finished a good third of the east wall without anything too exceptional happening and just like that it changed. The alarm arose from the North gate. People began shouting. I hadn’t heard any shooting yet so I figured things were still somewhat all right. Like every other looky loo, I left what I was doing mid-swing, probably a good thing. I think I was lined up for a third hit on my throbbing appendage and this time the tears would have spilled. This would have been considerable entertainment for Travis. I’m sure he thinks I don’t have tear ducts. The makers of the Hallmark commercials would be happy to know that I do, but I’m not telling anyone. There was a group of sixty or seventy people at the gate by the time I got there. That was a good quarter of our population. I would’ve figured everyone would have been here but then it was nice to realize the gate guards and the tower guards hadn’t left their posts, plus there were still a considerable number of folks who were just plain traumatized. Some so much so that they didn’t even come out to get food, it had to be delivered. I meandered my way up to the front trying to figure out what was going on. There were no zombies or human invaders that I could see. I was wondering if someone had inadvertently hit the alarm. It wouldn’t be the first time. Luckily this hadn’t yet fallen under the boy who cried wolf syndrome, yet.
I had made it up to the front of the crowd and curled my fingers around the chain links. My fingers tightened as I saw what had aroused the natives. Standing in the field across from our little community was what I can only describe as the harbinger of doom. It was the symbol of everything that was wrong with the world right now. It was death incarnate. It was the four horsemen of the apocalypse all rolled into one package. It was the woman zombie that had killed Spindler. At one time she was some daddy’s little girl, all pigtails and Sunday dresses. All sugar and spice and everything nice, all Barbie and Ken playhouse. Now she was the crux of all that was evil. She stood in that field two hundred yards away and still the closeness of her chilled my heart. Her tattered clothes swayed in a nonexistent breeze as if she created her own tempest of atrocity. The crowd which had been loud and alarmed grew as quiet as I had. The pall of impending doom disquieted us all. The only sounds were of clothes rustling together as each person tried their best to gain a better vantage. Some had seen enough. They peeled away,
