“Mike, what are you doing?” Tracy asked with concern. She was pretty sure I knew what I was doing, but not entirely convinced. I winked at her reassuringly and she folded her arms grimly. There would be hell to pay later, her eyes promised me.
I was much more sure of myself when I had been walking towards the door than I was now that I was potentially holding a bomb at bay.
“I… I don’t know how to thank you,” Jack was fairly crying now.
“You could find me a beer,” I told him as I looked over all of the workings of this trap.
“You got it man,” Jack said, wiping salty droplets from his face. “I’ll always dedicate a beer to you.” “No, that’s not what I meant,” I said as I pushed the door all the way open. I watched everyone go into duck and cover mode. The ‘trip wire ’ which was actually an antenna was attached to an old school boom box.
“How did you know?” Cindy asked.
“Never came across a bomb yet that announced itself,” I told her.
“That’s it?” my wife yelled. “You bet everything on a little red light! How many bombs have you come across in your life?” Man she was pissed, see how easy I can get into trouble?
“No time, Tracy. This thing still has juice so somebody was here recently and they know they have company, and just because this wasn’t a bomb doesn’t mean they don’t have something much more real.” All I had done was delay the inevitable. She would remember this long after the mountains had crumbled to the sea. “Just keep piling them up, don’t you Talbot,” I said under my breath. Hey, I was a good 54% sure that thing wasn’t a real bomb.
“Why did I feel the need to leave Maine and follow your crazy cracker ass again?” BT asked irately as I came back to the truck.
“Apparently you felt that I was a little more sane than the Talbot collective,” I told him as I patted him on the shoulder and grabbed a few more ammo magazines.
“I was going to go to King Soopers that day,” BT said wistfully.
“Huh?” I asked him.
“That day when you came into the Safeway store. I had planned on going to King Soopers the night before. In fact, I had gone but they were all out of buttermilk.” “Buttermilk?”
“Yeah, I like buttermilk pancakes in the morning and I make them from scratch.”
“Well aren’t you just the Galloping Gourmet,” I told him as I stuffed my cargo pockets with more gear.
“Just one carton, one stupid little carton of buttermilk, that’s all they had to have and I’d be waiting this whole thing out in my penthouse apartment off of Leetsdale.” I stopped what I was doing. “Wait, you lived in a penthouse suite?”
“Yup, private entrance and everything,” He said with regret.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything? We would have been way better off there,” I said looking right at him.
“I didn’t want you guys messing my crib up. I heard about what you did to your own place. And anyway I checked it out the day you went to the armory, that buttermilk saved my life twice. The building was in ruins, most of it was burnt and zombies were wandering around everywhere. I think I could have gotten to my suite but I’m not sure if I would have made it out. And it wasn’t like I had told anyone where I was going. Even you wouldn’t have come and tried to rescue me.” “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I told him, heading back to the door way.
“Well, you don’t have to be so cavalier about it,” he yelled to my retreating back.
“You know I love you man. Travis, Justin come on, let’s find a suitable room. I’m exhausted.” Brian came up to me just as I got the entrance. “Do we sweep the whole building?”
“I don’t think so, that sounds too much like Russian Roulette. Eventually we’re going to come across an apartment with a loaded gun.” He nodded but I could tell he didn’t like my reasoning. “I know man, it doesn’t make for a secure perimeter, but I’m really hoping that if we leave them alone, they’ll leave us alone.” “I think that’s asking a lot,” Perla said as she came up to our small meeting. “I mean, this is their home and all.” “Would you rather get in a fire fight?” I asked her crossly.
“Maybe we should just find someplace else,” Cindy said.
“This one is empty!” Jack yelled about three doors down the corridor.
“Good enough, let’s park the cars right up against the doors and get the supplies in. Let’s take a breather and then we’ll sit down and see if we can get a game plan for tomorrow,” I told the group.
Within a few trips all the ammo and food were in our temporary abode. I was going back to the truck for one final look to make sure I didn’t miss anything when I heard Cindy talking to someone.
“What’s with all the sani wipes? There has to be about twenty containers of them,” she asked curiously.
I was coming up to the building exit when I heard BT’s laughter. “Oh that’s rich,” he said. “That’s Mike’s secret stash, the Lean Green Fighting Machine is afraid of germs. Can’t stand the thought of touching other people. I still haven’t figured out yet how he conceived children, either it was a standin or Immaculate Conception.” I walked through the exit with a scowl laced on my face, hoping to put an end to this conversation. My presence sparked a hint of embarrassment on Cindy’s face. She dropped the container she was holding as if it was about to burst into flame. BT thought my timing impeccable.
“I was just talking about you,” he guffawed.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Want a drink of water?” he asked, placing his bottle damn near on my lips.
It was all I could do to not push the thing away, thus confirming his accusations to Cindy.
“You’re a pain in the ass BT,” I told him; he smiled and pulled the bottle back.
“And it’s not even because I’m black,” BT told a shocked Cindy as he took a long swig of the water.
“That’s good I guess,” she said hesitantly as she retreated to be back with people she understood.
“I think we should post a guard in the hallway,” Jack said as we all sat around the apartment. The light from a half dozen emergency candles made it almost light enough to read by.
“Too exposed,” I said.
“I don’t like being canned up like this,” he replied.
“I’ve got an idea, help me find some paper and something to write on,” I told him. Ten minutes later I was taping a note to our door: “To whom it may concern, We mean no one any harm we plan on being here for a day or two at the most. We are well armed with meager supplies, nothing here is worth dieing for, if you feel like talking just knock. PS Zombies not welcome.” “I think you need an editor,” Cindy said as she read the note.
“I’ll get one as soon as I can,” I told her.
“Is the last part really needed?” Perla asked.
“I’m not putting anything past them at this point,” I told her. “And if that dissuades just one of those smelly bastards from coming here then it was worth it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Can’t hurt.”
We went back in and I turned the deadbolt. I sat down heavily on a musty but comfortable futon couch. The only other occupant was BT and still I barely had enough room.
“Any ideas for tomorrow?” I asked the room.
“Do you think the furniture store is completely surrounded?” Tracy asked. “Maybe there’s a weak point.” “Encircling seems to be their primary means of attack,” I said. “But they’re not always consistent with how many are at any given point.” “Assault the thinnest area then?” Brian asked.
“Yeah, but as soon as we start shooting we become the center of attention,” Travis filled in with his own experience.
“A diversion then? Some start shooting, wait to pull the zombies away, and then another group goes in,” Justin suggested.
“I’m not sure we’d be able to pull enough away,” I told him. He deflated slightly. “It’s a good thought,” I said, trying to pump him back up. “It’s just that we never tried something like that with this many. I don’t know that enough of them would even get the message that something was going on.” “I’ve got an idea,” Brian said. “But I need to scope it out a little better tomorrow when we can see the layout.” We were all looking at him expectantly.
“It’s just a thought,” he started back up. “In the southeast corner of the parking lot there was a fast food restaurant. It was on a grade about six feet higher than the furniture store parking lot.” “Wasn’t there a fence?” I asked, trying to picture what he was talking about.
“There should be, or a retaining wall, something, or otherwise people would go rolling down the hill. I’m
