The closest zombie was still fifty feet away when I formed an idea. Two houses down I noticed a garage door had been left partially open. Normally, I wouldn’t have tried to run into an unsecure house. The windows would be useless barriers for the zombies and we would just be trapping ourselves. But there was a silver lining about garages in Florida.
“This way,” I called out and started jogging toward the garage. Karina didn’t question me and she and Boomer followed behind.
Only a few feet away from the garage door was a zombie. This one was different though. It was a little girl before she died, and only around ten years-old. She must have survived for some time before she fell to the undead because there wasn’t that much decomposition.
The zombie child moved slowly. Her left leg had been ripped open, exposing most of her femur bone. Between the bright sun and her handicap, she was barely making any progress toward us. Other than that, I couldn’t see any obvious wounds. She still had the pale complexion of a recently dead victim, and the purple veins in her eyes were prominent, but something about her being a recently changed little girl gave me the creeps.
We made it to the garage.
“Go Boomer!” I ordered and pushed him underneath the two foot gap at the bottom.
“We’re going to get trapped!” Karina cried in protest as I pushed her down.
I gave her a weak smile, hoping it was enough to comfort her. “Trust me.”
Zombie girl’s croak got my attention. I pushed Karina again and turned with my Glock in hand toward the small dead-head. She was still fifteen feet away when Karina scurried under the door.
Do it!
A familiar voice said in my head, but I hesitated.
I looked at the small girl approaching. A part of me knew she wasn’t a girl anymore, or a living person for that matter. But another part of me saw little Kayla from the Compound. I rationalized that there was no reason to waste a bullet. There would be more than just her by the time I made it into the garage and shut the door. One little zombie wouldn’t make a difference. But the truth is I didn’t have the stomach to shoot a child… yet.
After taking one last look at the zombie girl and the host of others that were slowly approaching, I ducked down and rolled into the garage. Karina was standing there and helped me pull the garage door the rest of the way shut.
Darkness encompassed us until I switched on the flashlight attached to my vest. There wasn’t a car in the garage, which was unfortunate. I had hoped there was, but I knew that was a small chance. Along the walls were various tools from shovels to hammers, all neatly displayed on hooks and shelves.
“What now?” Karina whispered.
Before I had a chance to answer, the garage door rattled as the first zombie ran into it. I reached over and clicked on the MP5 flashlight so Karina could have some light.
“We need to hide,” I told her as I scanned the ceiling.
Florida homes almost always had an access to the attic in the garage. That was the reason I choose to hide here. I knew zombies could climb if given enough time, but they couldn’t fly and I doubt they could jump eight feet into the air.
The banging on the garage door intensified. I was learning that the dead-heads did have some sort of memory capacity. They couldn’t see or hear us anymore, but they knew we were somewhere behind that garage door. Just like the ones that knew we ran into the convenience store the night before, they just didn’t know where we hid afterwards.
“Where are we supposed to hide? Inside the house?” Karina asked.
“No. We go up.” I ran over to the hatch that led to the attic. I yanked on the draw string and then pulled the hinged ladder down.
Boomer was next to me, pointing his rigid body toward the garage door and whining.
“We’ll get you up there, boy,” I said as I grabbed Karina’s arm and pushed her up toward the attic. The ‘ladder’ was actually more of a steep staircase. I dropped my pack and grabbed the canine. He didn’t struggle much while I hoisted him up the ladder.
The pounding on the garage door grew worse as I fought to keep balance while carrying the heavy dog to the attic. Karina helped Boomer the last step.
“Don’t move around too much,” I ordered and went back down the ladder. “And stay on the beams. You’ll fall right through the ceiling if you don’t.”
By the time I made it back down to the cement floor, there had to be at least twenty zombies banging and pressing on the metal door. It seemed to be holding, but I knew that wouldn’t last. Zombies were like water. Eventually, they would find cracks or cause weaknesses in whatever stood in their way. The rails that held the slide for the door were shaking with each impact, and I could see the bolts that held them in place were starting to loosen.
I had a problem. I could easily get up the steps into the attic, but the way the hinges were, it would be impossible to pull up the ladder from the top.
“Think, think, think,” I repeated. I looked over near the tools and saw three ladders. Each one was taller than the one in front of it and all were strapped to the wall with a bungee cord. I ran over and detached the cord and the ladders fell with a loud bang.
I dragged the tallest ladder over to the steps. A cracking sound from the garage crack grabbed my attention and a ray of light shined through a fairly large gap between the wall and the door. A rotted arm stretched through the hole, grasping at the air.
I didn’t waste any more time. Snatching my pack off the ground, I climbed halfway up to the attic and tossed it in, hitting Karina and earning a curse. Boomer was panting intently at the top, as if he were telling me to hurry up.
Another snapping noise from the front of the garage motivated me. I didn’t bother looking over to see what damage had been done. I raised the hinged steps so that only the door was accessible and laid the long ladder on the open hatch.
More light illuminated the garage as I jumped on the first step. I peeked behind me and saw two zombie bodies struggling to squeeze through the growing gaps they had opened. One was the little girl zombie I neglected to put down earlier.
I wasted little time climbing up the ladder. I froze twice as the ladder started to slip off of the hatch, but was eventually able to make it safely to the top.
More sounds of stress from the garage door echoed as I spun around. The entire floor was lit up from the outside and I saw shadows of the zombies struggling to enter the garage. I pushed the ladder off of the hatch just as the little girl zombie placed her hand on it.
CHUNK!
The little girl zombie’s head jerked back and her body crumbled to the ground. I turned around and saw Karina aiming the MP5 towards the ground. Her face was stoic and calm as she lowered the weapon.
“Are you going to close it or tease them?” she said earnestly.
I nodded and shut the door.
Chapter 4
Rain Keeps the Dead Away
April 23
rd
Afternoon
We sat quietly in the attic for a half an hour. The zombies below were still moaning which meant they knew we were close. I wasn’t sure how they knew, though. I remembered back to when I had first found Boomer. Zombies had followed me into my neighbor’s backyard, but seemed to lose my scent. After a brief period, they’d wandered off. But these were not going anywhere.
I started to think they could smell us. Zombies only moaned when food was close, and they were still vocal. We weren’t making any noise, so that only left one conclusion. They could sense us, either by smell or some other sort of perception.
I looked around the attic. Other than some Christmas decorations, there wasn’t anything except support beams and insulation. There were small rays of sunlight peeking through the roof vents. The frame was oddly shaped, with different easements making it extra difficult to maneuver the length of the house. When I stood, I had to hunch over even at the tallest point of the attic.
“What now?” Karina whispered as I made my way across the span of the attic.
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” I replied.
She looked at me questioningly. “Will they leave?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered as I looked around. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping I would come across something that would spark an idea for how we would get out of the situation.
“It’s getting hot,” she complained as she shuffled around to get comfortable.
“I know,” I sighed. “Drink some water.”
She was right. The attic was muggy, and as it got closer to midday, it would start to become unbearable. I glanced up at the ceiling, staring at the pieces of plywood locked together. Tiny nail heads that held the shingles in place were poking through everywhere.
“We can’t stay up here forever,” she grumbled.
“Can you just be quiet and let me think?” I snapped.
“Sooorry,” she said under her breath.
A loud boom echoed outside the house, followed by another. Thunder.
Boomer flinched with each eruption and I saw the light coming in through the vents in the roof. Soon after, the pitter-patter of rain could be heard bouncing off of the shingles above us.
“As if things were not bad enough,” Karina continued to complain.
I examined the roof above for a moment. “That’s actually a good thing. And… I think I have an idea.”
There was no reason to try to be quiet anymore as I moved over to where my pack was lying. I slid a small, flat crowbar out of its strap and scanned the ceiling again, looking for the place that would give me the best angle.
“What are you doing?” Karina asked.
“Making us an escape hatch,” I said, straining as I tried to pry a piece of plywood away from the beam it was nailed to.
She sighed. “What good is that going to do? We can’t jump off the roof.”
I ignored her and continued to work. It was nailed tight to the beam, but after a few minutes of straining every muscle I had, I felt the plywood give a little.
Karina got up and moved toward me, stumbling over the two by fours that made up the roof of the house.
“Can’t we just open up the garage hatch and shoot all the zombies in the garage?”
That actually wasn’t a bad idea, but I didn’t think it would work.
“There could be a hundred of them crawling around down there,” I grunted. I was moving the crowbar up and down the length of the beam, ever so slowly loosening the panel of plywood above. “And even if we had enough bullets, we don’t know what we would be running into once we left the house.”
“Ah,” Karina maneuvered around me, peering up at my work.
“Ah, what?” I asked as I took a second to let my muscles rest.
“From the roof, we can see where all the dead-heads are. I guess you’re not that dumb.”
“When did you think I was dumb?” I glared at her.
“Well, not dumb, I guess.” She said in her matter-of-fact tone that irritated me. She had this air of ‘I’m smarter than you’ attitude without being conceited about it. It was pretty frustrating.
I went back to work on the first area I had loosened. “You said dumb.”
“I meant not that bright,” she said evenly.
“How is that better?”
“I didn’t say it was better,” she replied.
I sighed in annoyance as I strained to separate the plywood further off the beam.
Karina motioned over to the next beam the wood was nailed to. “You should pry it off in sections.”
“What?” I asked, not stopping.
“I don’t think you’re strong enough to break the plywood in half. If you pry sections off of each beam, then you can move the whole piece. Not to mention that there would be less resistance from the other places that are nailed to the frame.”
I stopped and glared at her. Of course, she was right. I hadn’t thought of that. So, I sucked in my pride and went to work on the next beam, prying the plywood from the two by four.
“I didn’t know they had architect classes in Junior High,” I commented.
“They don’t. But it is basic physics. I was taught the principles of leverage in seventh grade science.”
“Your mouth isn’t helping me, you know,” I said as I moved to the next beam. It was working. Man, I really hated her that day.
Karina sat down near me and Boomer moved over next to her.
“They didn’t teach that stuff when you were in school? Well, you probably were not in AP classes, but I thought that regular classes would teach basic physics.”
“I’m sure they did,” I said, trying to brush her off. The last month I had been bothered by how short Fish was when he spoke to me. He wasn’t really much for words. I missed him immensely at that moment.
It took a while, but I finally managed to pry the plywood completely off, but the shingles still held fast to the wood. I cut away the edges of the roofing paper and tar shingles with my K-bar knife allowing the first of the rainwater to seep into the attic. By the time I was done, I had cut three of the four sides.
I used the crowbar to pry the rest of the plywood from the beams. With the paper and shingles severed, I could move the section of roof freely.
Using every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed the roof section up until it fell over on the outside of the roof. It slammed down and fell short from sliding off the side of the house. The shingles I hadn’t cut were holding it in place.
The rain was coming down in heavy waves as I pulled myself up onto the top of the house. I was tired and my hands hurt, but I knew this was the time to get moving. Zombies didn’t like the rain much and thunder seemed to confuse the hell out of them. I thought it was probably safer than moving around during a clear, sunny day.
My binoculars were useless during the heavy rain, so I was left with just what my eyes could see.
I only saw two zombies. Both were down the road hugging the side of a house. They were oblivious to me and seemed to only want to get as much under cover as possible. I was happy to see my hypothesis of dead-heads hating the rain was true. I wasn’t comfortable with the fact that I didn’t know where any of the other zombies went. I knew some were in the garage, but there were hundreds following us.
They did have time to scatter, though. It had taken me about an hour to break through the roof. That gave them more than enough time to scatter and find shelter.
The next twenty minutes pretty much sucked. I had to get back into the attic, hoist Karina up, and then hand Boomer to her. He was a big dog. In the month since he joined me, he had to have grown to at least eighty pounds, if not more. The scary thing was he wasn’t even fully grown yet.
Getting down from the house wasn’t much easier, and the rain only made it more difficult. I chose for us to descend from the roof into the back yard, which had a tall wooden privacy fence. After I hung myself over the edge of the roof and jumped down into the grass, I grabbed a patio table and pushed it over to the back of the house. Getting Karina and our equipment down was easy, but Boomer took his time before he finally let me grab him.
Before we left, I glanced back up at the roof. That was the second time I had an idea that saved me and someone else’s life. Both involved getting on the roof of a building. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel some sort of pride. I would never be as good a fighter as Fish, but damn if I couldn’t be as smart as him.
Thinking of Fish made me think about whether our friends made it to Camp Holly or not. I looked over at Karina who was strapping the MP5 over her shoulder. I remember thinking about what Chuck said about getting her back to the group. He also said that I should leave right after we made it to them.
Could I do that? I didn’t know if I could or not. I pushed it out of my mind as we made our way to the gate.
I walked forward with my Glock at the ready.
I peered through the crack between the fence and the gate and saw that the front yard was clear of zombies. We were sloshing around in mud as we exited the yard, but again, the noise was barely noticeable when mixed with the heavy rain.
Boomer took point and guided us down the middle of the road. I peeked back at the house we had left. The garage door was halfway caved in, and I could see zombies had pushed their way in under the cover of the garage.
The downpour continued. We marched forward, careful to stay in the middle of the road and away from anything the zombies could use as cover. The rain came in waves of light mist to torrential downpours. We were all soaked to the bone and Karina continuously reminded me about how miserable she was.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Karina said at one point during our journey.
“What doesn’t make sense?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
“Dead-heads hate the sun, and dead-heads hate the rain. Why? All other creature like one or the other. Worms love the rain, but hate the sun. Same with turtles. But bees like the sun, and hate the rain.”
“I’m not sure why. Maybe you should ask them,” I smirked, and then added, “I’m kidding. Don’t ask them.”
“I’m not stupid, Christian,” she reminded me.
We had been walking for over an hour through the maze of roads that made up Palm Bay. I thought we had gotten lost a couple of times, only to run into a familiar street. Thankfully, the showers continued and the dead stayed undercover, too far away to catch our scent.
Boomer was miserable too, he just didn’t complain like Karina. His thick fur was matted down from being soaked. The canine gave up on shaking off the rain.
I had stopped at a few cars to see if there were keys in them. I didn’t find any, and I wasn’t about to approach a house. A lot of the homes had doors broken off the hinges or broken-out windows. I could only assume that the zombies were taking refuge from the weather in the houses.
We were maneuvering around the back neighborhoods of Palm Bay when I stopped. I was getting hungry and I was sure they were, too. Storm clouds still hung darkly above us, but the rain was slowing down to a drizzle. Zombies were starting to emerge from their various hiding spots.
I scanned the area looking for shelter. Just down the road there was a short cul-de-sac with four houses lining the circled road.
One of the houses had an open garage door and the front bay window had been busted outwards. The garage was empty and I saw no signs of movement in the house itself. Those were all good signs to me.
“In there,” I motioned to the house.
“We’re stopping?” Karina said with a tired but hopeful look.
“Yeah. We need to eat.”
We continued toward the house. One zombie was stumbling out from behind the adjacent house and I put it down with two shots to the head. It wasn’t the only dead zombie, however. Scattered around the cul-de-sac were around ten more corpses. Some were decapitated, others had their heads split or smashed. They weren’t the first permanently dispatched dead-heads we had come across on our journey, but this was the most we had seen in the same area.
As I walked by one of the corpses, I noticed fresh rips and tears in the clothing and skin. I realized that zombies may not feed on each other, but meat was meat when they were no longer animated or were beyond re-animation.
It didn’t take long for me to clear the house. There were two more zombies that had been eternally dispatched in the kitchen. I drug them into the back yard.
A quick hunt of the kitchen and bathroom told me that the house had already been scavenged over. I wondered if the survivors that had picked the house clean were still alive. I guess it really didn’t matter, unless they came back for a second look. That could be a blessing or a curse.