Containment (19 page)

Jules asked, “Weren’t you scared?”

“So scared that my knees were knocking with each step. That first walk was short and sweet. He went out, took care of his business, and then we got ourselves back home. This went on for a few days but then we decided to be a little braver. We took a walk around the whole block. That was our routine for a couple of days, maybe a little more. When you’re spending as much time alone as I have, details start getting a little murky.

“I guess we were feeling a bit cocky because we decided to let our guard down a little and almost ran smack dab into a group of three of them. Lucky for me, they didn’t walk any faster than me. And we were able to lose them, but now I knew that there were some of them around. And they knew that we were around too. Almost ruined a perfectly good thing.”

Dr. Caldwell asked slowly, “So are they still around then?”

“In a manner of speaking. They’re really not much of a threat anymore.”

Jerry nodded. “I get where you’re goin’ with that.”

“Probably not, actually. I decided to go out on my own one morning. I didn’t want anything to happen to ole Moe here and I didn’t want to get tangled in his leash or anything. No offense, Moe, but I think you would have been a bit of a liability. I went out with my tire iron and not a clue as to what I was doing, but I knew that I needed to get rid of them or they’d end up getting rid of me. It didn’t take long to find them. They were standing out on a corner. It looked like they were just waiting for the bus or something. They were just standing there. It was the damnedest thing. They looked like grey statues or something, only every now and then one of them would shake from their feet up to their heads and out to the tips of their fingers. It looked like maybe they were each in turn stepping on the same exposed live wire and getting a little jolt of electricity. I think that bothered me more than the way they looked, or even smelled for that matter.

“I got their attention, which didn’t really take more than me rounding the corner. While I was still headed toward those things, I saw that Jackie Gordon’s garage door was open. So, on my way back I decided that maybe this would be my chance. I knew that I couldn’t outfight them. Hell, I was fighting with the tire iron just to keep it in my hands. Those things get heavy after a bit. Anyway, the garage is a detached model that used to be someone’s shop and Jackie’s late husband Tye did some modifications to it. One of the things that he’d done that he was most proud of was rigging a release in the back of the shop right next to the backdoor. The lever was just a really big switch and when triggered, it was a manual release for the garage door to come down. They had an automatic garage door opener, but he was a tinker and it came in handy when the garage door was outta repair.

“I guess none of that matters. What does matter was that I led those little buggers into that garage, shut the front door and let my self out the back, locking them inside. With a can of Tye’s spray paint that I swiped from one of the shelves as I made my way through, I painted a warning on the front of the garage. Just in case anyone ever heads back this way. I’d hate for the wrong person to open that garage door and get a nasty surprise.”

Neil asked, “And so you haven’t seen any more of them since?”

“No. Moe and I have been pretty much the only ones around in several days. It may have been more than a week since I locked those things up. You wanna see our garden now?”

They went out back to check out the garden and just get some fresh air. Using a ladder, Jerry climbed on top of a little storage shed in the far corner. From there, he could see into most of the adjoining yards and beyond. He could also see up and down several streets. It was a great vantage point, but even better than the view was what he didn’t see. He didn’t see any of the predatory undead creatures that had been stalking them. Charles was right; there really didn’t seem to be anything or anyone in the vicinity. Still, Jerry found himself scanning the backyards and streets over and over again as the others picked raspberries and other late odds and ends from the garden.

The raspberry bushes covered the entire back fence and were popping with the little red fruit. For Jules and Danny, this was the best time they’d had on their vacation to Alaska yet. There was something special about picking fresh anything from a plant and eating it right on the spot. They savored each sweet, juicy bite.

While the others enjoyed the backyard, Dr. Caldwell and Neil moved the van into the backyard through a large vehicle sized gate. With the gate closed and Jerry in his “crow’s nest” observer position atop the shed, the back yard seemed like a fortress, safe and secure. For the first time in a long time, Neil felt like he could relax for a bit.

Malachi sat in the open air of the backyard and thought to himself that this was probably how Adam felt on that first day. This was no Eden, but it was closest thing to it that he’d seen in a long time. He leaned back in his folding lawn chair and soaked in the scene. Other than a grill, the afternoon had all the trappings and leisure of a holiday barbecue. There was food and laughter and, more importantly, no fear. It was as if the seven-foot cedar fence that wrapped itself around the yard like a pair of protective arms, held all the horrors of the past several weeks at bay. Of course, as he sat and reveled in the day, he was sitting away from most everyone else. To him, it was just safer, in case none of what he was seeing or doing was real.

Charles had brought out a couple of packages of smoked salmon from the freezer. The packages were passed around to each of the very eager guests in the backyard. Jules and Danny sniffed at the strips and then declined to eat any but everyone else dived in hungrily. The two kids busied themselves with eating the raspberries and then going back to pick more. While they worked on the harvest, they each ate the peanut butter sandwiches that Meghan made for them.

Art and Neil were busy at the back of the van. They were unloading some of the food and most of the blankets and extra clothing and carrying it into the basement. It had been decided that the group would stay for a day or two with him while they formulated a new plan. Hoping to assuage some of the guilt he felt for not helping the others that he’d seen, Charles elected to open his sanctuary to these strangers.

He was watching Art and Neil work and found himself amazed at the stacks of food and material they were removing. He moved over next to the van and peeked inside. When he saw the supplies in the back, he let out a sigh and said with obvious relief in his voice, “Boy, you folks sure travel in style. I was afraid that maybe I was gonna hafta feed all o’ you. But look at all of that.”

With a hint of false offense in his voice, Neil asked, “What kind of houseguests do you think we are? D’you think we were just going to eat all of your food and then leave you high and dry? I’ve got something for you in here too. Where is it?”

Neil lifted a canvas bag filled with cans and moved it aside. He pulled a plastic container from under the back seat. “Ahhhh. Here it is.” He opened the opaque tub to reveal a variety of handguns and boxes of ammunition. He lifted a small, stubby nosed revolver and a box of shells and handed this to Charles. “You look like a Smith and Wesson man.”

Charles took the firearm and weighed it in his hand like the statue of Justice holding her scales silently. He didn’t say anything for several seconds. Neil wasn’t sure whether he was having an emotional response to the gesture or if it was maybe something more. The gun was sitting
on
his hand more than
in
his hand, and this fact was not lost on Neil.

He asked tentatively, “Is everything okay, Charles?”

No response except more silence. He was thankful that enough was happening around them that no one else was paying any attention to their interaction. Neil could see now that Charles’ quiet was memory induced. He could see the past in the old man’s somber, distant eyes; a past that was steeped in forgotten memories.

“Charles?”

“Sorry. I just...I...uh...haven’t held a gun in my hand in over fifty years.”

“I didn’t mean to...I didn’t know.”

Charles smiled as reassuringly as possible and replied, “How could you? My kids don’t even know.”

“What happened?” Neil was imagining some accident or possibly a crime involving a gun. Perhaps Charles had been a police officer or a security guard and he was forced to use his weapon.

Charles asked as he looked up at the sky, “Have you ever heard of the Chosin Reservoir?”

Neil started to say that the name wasn’t completely unfamiliar to him but stopped himself short. Instead, he shook his head and let Charles continue.

“I was in the Army in 1950. I was part of the Army of Occupation in Japan. It was easy work and good pay. I was only eighteen, hell, just
eighteen
, and I was seein’ the world on Uncle Sam’s dime. And then, all of a sudden I found myself aboard a troop ship headin’ to Korea. Who the hell had ever even heard of the damned place before ‘50? I eventually got assigned to the 32nd Regiment of the Seventh Infantry Division. We were called the Queen’s Own. I know, I know. It’s kinda funny to think that a US Army formation could carry that title but we did. It had something to do with the unit coming originally from Hawaii and having some traditional queen there first call us into service. I used to know the story pretty well. I guess because I was pulled from my original unit—an anti-aircraft battery—to supplement the 32nd’s infantry roster, I didn’t have the same connection to the unit that the other guys had. Hell, I was so new that I didn’t even have a name yet. I was just,
Hey new guy
.

“By the time I came ashore, most of the major activity was over and we were just offloading and marching inland. There had been some fighting when the first wave hit the beach, but I guess we scared the North Koreans pretty good because they just bugged out in a hurry. That was September and it was already starting to get cool at night and staying cooler in the mornings before the sun had a chance to warm the air a bit.

“It was unpleasant where we were and compared to the comfort of Japan it was downright miserable, but I was lucky to not have fought in the Pusan perimeter defense. They almost lost it and quite a few young boys like myself saw their last days during that battle. But then the enemy broke and it was our turn. We hit the tough yellow bastards so hard that we pushed on up that peninsula right north of the 49th Parallel, all the way into North Korea.

“And then it started to get cold. I think the Koreans got the worst of it, but it still wasn’t comfortable. On the drive north, we’d see their frozen bodies all along the roads as we chased them. Most of them looked like they just laid down with their rifles and went to sleep.”

By this time, Danny had joined them and listened intensely. There was just something about war stories and boys; like mosquitoes drawn to warm blood. Danny’s grandfather had fought in ‘Nam, whatever that was, but never talked about it. He looked it up on the Internet and found out some basics: where it was fought, who fought, and for how long, but his grandfather’s silence on his experiences was most frustrating. He eagerly awaited each word, reveling in Charles’ adventure.

Charles continued, “We came to a place called Hagaru-ri, a kind of crossroads for mountain roads and passes on the southern end of this huge valley smack dab in the middle of some of the most inhospitable terrain in all of Korea. In Hagaru-ri though, we got all loaded up with supplies, ya know, like extra ammo and dry rations and things like that. And then we knew that something big was coming because we got treated to real food. It wasn’t world class cuisine mind you, but it was a helluva lot better than the dehydrated pig droppings we usually got.”

This latest comment brought a chuckle from both Danny and Neil. Even Charles seemed to be pleased with his wit.

“It was late November and as cold in those Korean mountains as any winter day in Anchorage I’ve ever felt, and I’ve lived more than half of my life in here. We didn’t know it then, at least not yet, but we were at a place called the Chosin Reservoir. I guess it’s a pretty big manmade lake, but it just looked like the world’s biggest ice rink to me. I couldn’t imagine it ever being warm enough in that valley for that damned lake to thaw. Man it was cold there.

“Unfortunately for us, it was at the Chosin Reservoir that the Chinese decided to push back on behalf of their North Korean communist brothers. All at once, an entire Chinese army was in the valley with us and they were all about business. They weren’t necessarily well armed or even well led, but there were just so damned many of them. By then, we had been designated a Regimental Combat Team, which is just when you take a bunch of infantry and then throw tanks, cannons, engineers, and anti-aircraft units in with it. The theory was that an RCT could operate independently in the field indefinitely so long as supplies continued to be delivered…a mini-army unto itself. The problem we had was the same problem the regiment had when it left Japan; we were understaffed. We had only one of our infantry battalions, about a third of our operational strength. We were tough, well armed, and well supplied, but there just weren’t that many of us.

“That’s not to say that we were the only good guys in the valley. There were some ROK, sorry, South Korean soldiers, some British soldiers, and a helluva lot of US Marines. Believe everything you ever hear about how tough those guys are. From their generals on down, they are a burly bunch and always spoiling for a fight.