Chapter 4

Visiting The Neighbors

Before anything else I need to get Betsy loaded so I can leave at any time. Luckily I have everything prepared for an emergency and I was able to load up in just under an hour. I double check the essentials and decide to add a bit more. I have room so extra toilet paper and food are the first things to enter. Next is my spare crossbow and extra bolts. Finally, I empty the gun safe of all the ammunition. Even if it is too heavy to carry in a pack, Betsy can hold it until I need it. With everything loaded it time to check on the neighbors.

I have been putting this off for a reason. I realize I live in the sticks, the reality of these zombies reaching me in the beginning is very low. My nearest neighbor is almost a quarter mile away. I am more likely to find people sick and turned into zombies at their house then to actually run into them outside where I live. I decide to play it safe and put my little .22 target pistol in a holster on my hip and take what some would consider a strange looking multi-tool. I called it my axe-bar.

I had seen one of them at a knife show I had attended a few years ago and fell in love with it. It was basically a large hatchet, with a hammer on the back side and a crowbar coming out the top of it. It was functional, not overly large, and could perform more tasks than you would think.

With this I could pry open things, bash them senseless, hammer things in, chop or slice, it was the perfect survival multi-tool. It also did not look that scary so came as a surprise to many people with how helpful and dangerous it could be.

I grabbed a water bottle and started hiking towards the Johnson’s house. I decided that taking the back trail would be the smarter thing to do and went through the stand of trees between our houses. As I got closer I realized that something was wrong. I could hear a thumping sound and crying. I increased my pace, but stayed vigilant. The front door had bloody hand stains on it and the door was wide open. On the roof above the front door were Mrs. Johnson and little Billy. The crying sounds were coming from them. The thumping sounds which were getting louder were coming from inside the house.

I needed to know what was going on, but yelling questions at obviously traumatized people on a roof would not only be stupid, but dangerous. I decided I needed to get to them as quickly as possible and I altered my course to go to the back of the Johnson’s house before I left the tree line. I did not want Mrs. Johnson and little Billy to see me and scream for help when I still did not know the situation. Behind the house was Ted’s big workshop/garage. I had been here several times both lending and borrowing tools and a helping hand. I knew Ted kept an extension ladder in the garage and I planned on using that to get onto the roof and walking over the roof to where Susie Johnson and Little Billy were on the porch.

I cautiously approached the garage and saw that the backyard seemed normal. I did what I thought would look like a tactical entry. I had my pistol out and I searched the area for targets when I opened the garage door. In reality it probably looked like a middle aged guy playing soldier with a bunch of kids. I saw nothing and holstered the pistol and grabbed the shortest extension ladder to get onto the roof. I managed to get it out of the garage with no trouble and very little sound. I had a feeling I knew what the problem was, but I needed to confirm it with Susie before I did anything. Sound was my enemy at this point in time.

I leaned the ladder up against the eaves of the house and climbed as quietly as I could onto the roof. Luckily the crying and thumping noises were covering up whatever small sounds I was making. I half crawled and walked over the top of the house to the front where I could not make out the thumping noise was someone banging on the door leading into the room with the window Susie and Billy had climbed out of.

“Pssst. Susie!”

Her head swiveled around looking for the source of her name.

“Up here.”

“Mark, oh thank goodness. Ted has gone crazy. He tried to hurt Billy and now he won’t stop banging on the door.”

“Alright Susie, I will take care of the problem. I want you and Billy to come here as quietly as possible and I will help you up. Then cross the roof and go down the ladder and lock yourself in the garage until I come and get you.”

“You will help Ted?”

“Yes Susie, I will help Ted.”

I hated lying to her, but she obviously was not thinking straight and I needed to get them to safety as quickly as possible. I helped both of them up and sent them on their way to the garage. I had to go through the window they came out of and deal with Ted. Some people might wonder why I was even doing this. Why not just leave and call it good? The main reason was I needed more information. This was the safest situation I could think of where I could actually interact with a zombie. It was a single one. The door was holding, and I had a safe line of retreat. I had to figure out if they could reason and how much damage they could take. Figuring it out now would be extremely beneficial. It was always better to have the information and not need it then to need it and not have it.

I quickly climbed into the upper bedroom through the window and made some noise so Ted the zombie would continue to stay at the door. I did not want him to become disinterested and leave, which would endanger me and Susie and Billy. I went to the door and looked at the hinges first. Seemed solid enough. First I knocked on the door twice. The zombie hit the door twice. Coincidence or something more. I rattled of shave and a haircut and the zombie just pounded on the door. Ok that means the first was a coincidence. Next test would be pain. I took out my .22 pistol and made sure I put in a clip of round nose target ammunition.

Many people do not realize that a little .22 bullet can easily go through a pine 2X4 which is thicker than a door if shot at close range. My plan was to shoot three to five shots through the door spaced out to make sure I hit zombie Ted. I would then wait for his reaction. Pop, pop, pop. Three rounds through the door and zombie Ted was not happy. He struck the door with even more force. Alright, so the zombies still feel pain, they just do not react to it like normal people. It seems to enrage them. In fact, this door does not seem like it is going to last much longer. I quickly move to the side of the door and get ready to open it. I want zombie Ted to come barreling through so I can shoot at the back of his head. I place my axe-bar on a convenient shelf nearby for easy access and reload the three bullets that I used.

I unlock and twist the handle of the door knob and let zombie Ted provide the force to open it. He barrels in just like I was hoping and I line up as best I can and shoot until he stops moving. That took 5 or 6 shots. I am not quite sure. My nerves are shot and adrenaline is pumping through my body at a pace I have never experienced. I close the door and lock it again just to be safe and pick up my axe-bar and nudge the corpse of Ted with my foot. No response. I have seen too many monster movies and I promptly hit the back of zombie Ted’s head with the hammer side of my axe-bar as hard as I can. The skull had been slightly deformed from my shots and this just caused blood and other bodily fluids to splash out.

It was too much for me to handle at the moment. I threw up all over poor zombie Ted’s body. No matter how well prepared you think you are, taking the life and seeing something like this for the first time will get to you. I just assumed that my brain would classify them as monsters and I would be able to do what was needed and move on. I think I might be able to do that now, but for goodness sake that image of the blood and fluid splashing, just thinking about it caused me to dry heave again. I covered the mess and the body with the blankets from the bed in the room and went downstairs to go tell Susie what had happened.

I went out and knocked on the garage door calling out my name so Susie would open up. She nervously opened the door and looked at me.

“Did you help Ted? Is he OK?”

“Susie, I am sorry. He was too far gone. I could only stop him from hurting you and Billy.”

“What do you mean? Where is Ted?”

How do I explain this to a hysterical woman? With as much understanding and care I could muster I tried to explain once again.

“Sweetie Ted was sick. He was so sick that he tried to hurt you and Billy. The news said there was no cure for his sickness. I tried to talk to him, but he could not understand me anymore. I had to make sure he could not hurt you, Billy or anyone else ever again. I covered his body and left it in the upstairs bedroom. You can go and pay your respects if you like, but I don’t think Billy should see his daddy like that.”

Susie’s eyes started to water. I think she was finally starting to understand what had happened. Many tears later and one very confused little boy was waiting with me at the garage while mommy went to say goodbye to daddy. A few minutes later and Susie came down with two backpacks.

“Susie would you like to come with my down to the homestead in Aiken?”

“No, Billy and I are going to go visit grandma and hole up and hide there. I want to thank you for keeping me and my boy safe Mark. I may have lost it for a bit, but I really am grateful.”

“If that is what you think is best, I recommend that you fill your truck with as much as it can carry before you go. Once you get to where you going you might not be able to find gas or make it back anytime soon.”

“Ok, thank you once again and feel free to use anything in the house that we leave behind. I hope that your family is safe. Come on Billy we are going to go visit Grandma Violet.”

I hope that Susie knows what she is doing. It is not going to be safe out there. However, I am not going to force anyone to do anything they don’t want too. The only reason they even got an invite was how well I got along with Ted and that I really did not want to leave Billy alone. That is all now in the past though. I need to move on and check one more neighbor before I get out of town. I headed back towards my own place. Widow Allie lived on the other side of my house.

Now widow Allie was an interesting lady. Pure southern gal the whole way and funny to boot. When I first met her she insisted I call her Widow Allie. When I finally agreed and asked why she said it was so all those cute boys down at the bingo hall will know I am single and ready to mingle. Keep in mind that this is a 72 year old Great Grandmother. I absolutely adored her and her sense of humor. She was a riot. I left her to check on last mainly because I was not as worried about her as I was the Johnson’s. Widow Allie was tough. As long as she had not gotten sick she would be fine. Or at least that was what I believed.

As I got closer to her house I started hearing yelling though. I sped up my pace while remaining as cautious as I could. I was rather flabbergasted at the sight that awaited me. Widow Allie was banging a skillet against the head and shoulders of a zombie that she had somehow trapped under a variety of random junk it looked like. As she was wailing away I could hear her say thing like, “Threaten my grandbabies will you, I’ll teach you a lesson in respect.” That explained why she was so excited. Her kids must have come up to visit or to hole up with her. I took out my pistol and shouted at Widow Allie to step back.

“Bought time you got here boy now finish off this heathen and then come wash up for supper.”

“Yes ma’am.”

There really wasn’t anything else you could say at a time like this. I got close enough not to miss and put three bullets into the skull of the still struggling trapped zombie.