'Yeah, probably should let it air out.' He said as he grabbed a handful of snow and washed his hands.
After five minutes the general consensus seemed to be that the majority of the odor should have dissipated.
Justin took it upon himself to check this hypothesis, his partially wrinkled nose let us know that while not exactly pleasant it should be safe enough for human inhalation.
'What do you think, Talbot?' Tracy asked, following my line of sight.
'I think we go up there and check their hospitality. Been on empty for the last ten miles, I can't imagine we've got another ten miles left in her,' I said as I thumped the hood. 'And who knows what the hell is up the road. I'd rather we have a little bit of cushion gas-wise if we need to run.' I started to get back into the car.
'I'd rather walk, if it's all the same to you,' Tracy said.
Justin, Nicole, Travis and Tommy all chimed in about how they would like to stretch their legs or get some air or enjoy the weather.
'Awesome,' I said as I squished back down into my melange a la gore.
BT got into the front seat, Carol into the rear. Henry looked from me to the hummer and over to the four who opted to walk. Back and forth he swung trying to figure out what was going on here. Whatever it was, he wanted a window seat as he hopped up into the hummer. I drove slowly, staying next to Tracy and the kids. I was not going to leave them alone and I was still hesitant about approaching the farmhouse, especially since we were unarmed.
The snow on the roadway had melted to a thin skin of ice. That was to change however when we reached the edge of the farmhouse driveway. The small band of travelers moved behind the hummer as I easily cut a swath through the 10-inch thick crusty snow. No champagne powder here, I was east of the Mississippi. Did that matter? Really didn't see myself strapping on a set of skis anytime soon. Another quiver to the heart of loved things lost, along with Monday night football, the Red Sox and my beleaguered Bruins. A random thought permeated my thinking as I crunched up noisily into the front yard. If I came across Kevin Youkilis as a zombie would I be able to kill him? That question got infinitely harder to answer as I pondered whether he would have his uniform on.
I would have to dwell on that later, as I neared the front door and still could not see any signs of life or death. The snow around the house was pristine, marred only by the occasional deer or rabbit track. As long as they weren't rabid we were in pretty good shape.
Tracy came up to my window as I rolled to a stop. 'Don't get in if you don't have to but stay near here,' I told her as I stepped out from the hummer.
She looked down at my pants and at the seat, obviously hoping that there wouldn't be any sort of problems where we would need to make a fast get away. 'Is that a tooth?' She asked.
'Don't,' I admonished her. 'I don't want to know.'
'Do you think you're the best representative to go up there?' Carol asked from the back seat.
I stooped down so that I could make eye contact with her. 'Carol, you should know better by now. In the
She gave me a grim smile. These weren't times for jokes and she had yet to warm up to my 'what, me worry?' attitude, even if it was all a farce. I now worried every minute of every day.
'Dad, you want us to come with you?' Justin asked, as he gestured to Travis and himself.
Normally there is safety in numbers, but if anyone was here they were watching us right now and I didn't want to give them any extra reason to be spooked. This was rural Pennsylvania and we were at a farmhouse. Odds were exceedingly high that at the minimum they possessed a shotgun. If the owner was a little skittish, which he had every right to be, I didn't want my boys anywhere near the door. What would be the point? So we could all be lead catchers?
'No, stay with your mom. Both of you,' I clarified as Travis came up beside me.
'We mean no harm!' I yelled, placing my hands in the air. I tried to put myself in the house occupant's point of view. Would I believe me? I answered honestly, no. Even bad guys would start out by saying something along those lines. Here I was covered in what they would think was my last victim's blood. No they wouldn't trust me, the stakes were too high. This wasn't getting ripped off on a Craigslist deal. This was the whole bag of marbles, so to speak.
The house was an old style Victorian, smack dab between dilapidated and brand spanking new. If it was abandoned it hadn't been for long. It looked to be the domicile of aging occupants, ones that could not keep up with the maintenance such a home demanded. The steps creaked eerily as I ascended the stairs. I kept my hands in the air. I got the distinct impression I was being watched and then it hit me like a bolt, 'duh' there were at least eight sets of eyes on me from behind and maybe Henry's too. So much for the spook radar.
I knocked loudly on the door. 'Please, we mean no harm. We just need a place to stay for a day or two.' I waited for a response; none was forth coming, I did notice though when I knocked that I did not get that hollow echo that accompanies an empty house. A spark of hope ignited in my gut. We might have the chance to get some supplies and not make idle chit chat with residents who were no longer in attendance. You may have read my other two journals. Nowhere in them does it say I'm a people person.
I knocked again and gave the standard time for a response. I checked the doorknob. It was locked. 'Who the hell locks their door in the country?' I asked the wind.
'What?' Tracy asked. 'Are you talking to someone? Is there someone in there?'
'Just talking to myself,' I told her over my shoulder.
'Well that doesn't count, you always have a crowd inside that head of yours,' she said with a slight grin.
'Is this really the time for that?' Carol asked her daughter with concern. This non-confrontation I was not having on the porch was starting to rattle her a bit.
'This really is their basic form of communication,' BT told Carol.
'You're in on this too?' She asked BT.
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
Nice verbal detour, but time to get back to the task at hand. 'Please just let me know if you're in there. If you want us to go, we will. But if I don't get a response I am going to kick this door in!' I yelled. I wasn't too particularly scared of the 'Make My Day' law. That was a thing of the past. The owners of this house could have just as easily shot me on the porch and wouldn't even have to worry about cleaning up the blood trails as they dragged me inside to make it look like I had gained entry.
No one responded. I thought I might have heard a distant shuffle but I chalked it up to an overactive imagination. I got into my best Chuck Norris impersonation stance and lashed out heavily at the door with the heel of my foot. The heavy stout wooden door cracked a bit but did not give. I rebounded off, the reverberation from the contact causing increasing concentric rings of pain within my body as it radiated away from my foot. I staggered and nearly fell right off the porch.
I could hear BT laughing his ass off in the back of the hummer.
'Yeah!' I yelled. 'Why don't you get your gimpy ass over here and give it a try?'
His chortling came to a quick and satisfying halt.
'The door must be braced from the inside.' I said to anyone that would listen as I rubbed my shin.
Tommy joined me up on the porch, his eyes all puffy as if from crying. He didn't say anything to me as he bent down and grabbed the key that had been strategically placed under the welcome mat, unlocked the door and walked in.
'Who still does that?' I asked him as I followed into the house.
'Talbot?' Tracy yelled from outside. I backed up and stuck my head out. 'What should we do?'
'Shut off the hummer and come on in.' Seemed a rational enough response. Tommy had gone in. I still had to trust his 'gift'.
A heavy dust swirled in the light. I ran my finger across an old oak table. There was an accumulated layer of the fine dirt but nothing that hinted to longevity. Maybe as much as it would take to amass say since December 7th of the previous year. Chances were that these folks, the Powells, went to their local church when the end came. I knew the family name from the sign that welcomed all guests to The Powells, Union Station.
Travis was last in as he helped his grandmother. 'You want me to shut the door, Dad?'
The interior of the house was that bone-chilling cold that can only come from an untended home, and had to be at least 15 degrees cooler than outside, but cold you can suffer with. Death from unknown sources, not so much. 'Yeah go ahead and shut it and we'll see if we can get a fire going.'
