Part 6 The Tree House - Revised

Part 6
The Tree House
Revised

We reached the tree line and I looked back behind me and saw no sign of any zombies. We left the back door opened but it didn't matter, I doubted that we were ever going back. Besides, the cat would have a way in and out. It would make it easier for other animals, like raccoons and such to get in there and start scavenging the food that's left. I guessed that even an occasional lone zombie would find it's way in there among the bodies of it's fellows. Going through the trees and shrubs we followed no distinct trail. Literally bushwhacking our way throughout, until there was a small clearing. From there was several distinct trail heads leading off in different directions, except where we came from. I saw tied to one branch was a piece of flagging tape and the woman headed down that one. I wondered at the wisdom of marking a specific trail, then remembered how stupid zombies were. Some fifty feet down the trail the woman stood and held up her hand, I approached quietly, thinking that she spotted a zombie.

She didn't. “I want you to be careful from this point out, you need to watch for trip wires, we've got them marked with tape like that one,” pointing to what I now saw another piece of flagging tape that hung seemingly in mid-air, only now my eyes caught the near hair thin wire that was strung out at waist height. At first I was not thinking in the box as it were. Knowing that usually trip-wires were strung out low around the height of someone's ankle. But it dawned on me that she wanted to ensure that their booby traps wouldn't catch a living person unaware and kill them. It made me curious as to what kind of traps they had laid out.

“Makes it kind of hard to get past them don't it?” I asked more in observation than a question. She nodded, “yeah, but at least it'll catch any of those dead things roaming their way towards our camp.” She ducked under carefully and stood up on the other side and took a couple steps back making room for me. I knew that I needed to shuck off my pack before even trying to get under the wire. As I pushed the pack under, she reached out and grabbed it and pulled it towards her. I experienced a quick moment of nervousness at someone else handling my pack. Everything I owned, except what I had on my person was in that pack. I shrugged it off as quickly as it came. They could've killed me at any time, so I chastised myself and began moving under the wire. Not being familiar I kept my back low until I reached her and then slowly stood up.

“Just out of curiosity” I said picking up my pack and shouldering it again, “what are the boobies in your booby traps?” She giggled at my playful innuendo as I expected, then took a couple of steps off the trail and gently moved what at first appeared to be a low leafy branch that I now saw was actually tied to the trunk of a tree. What laid behind the branch actually caught me by surprise and I froze. Tied around near the base of the trunk of the tree at about knee height was the unmistakable grey-greenish colored curved box of a claymore mine. The trip wire was attached to it then strung through a simple eyelet screw that was put into the tree as a re-direct and the wire continued up until it reached it's waist height level and threaded through yet another eyelet screw and continued on across the trail til it reached the tree on the opposite side and was attached to a nail hammered into the tree.

She grinned at my open mouth and rigid posture. “Wh-where... my god woman!” I exclaimed, “that's a fricken claymore!” She nodded, still grinning. The light behind her eyes belied her grin and I saw deadly intentions behind it. Apparently she was willing to go through extreme lengths to protect herself and her son. I felt myself finally able to move and took another step back away from the wire when the grin disappeared from her face and she said “No! NO! Don't step back there!!” I yelled in surprise and nearly fell forward but she caught me and helped me lower myself to the ground on my knees, she sat back and was laughing hard. “Oh god! Oh my god! That was...” and she lost her wording as laughter burst out of her. “t-that was priceless! Whooo!” and she laughed for a good half minute trying to get herself under-control. Finally she faded down to a chuckle and shook her head. “I'm sorry that was just plain mean but I couldn't help it, and your face...” she burst out laughing again.

I should have felt furious with her but for some weird reason I wasn't. I waited for her to get under control and at the same time I looked around for any movement in the woods around us. It was fairly clear cut woods, not covered with dense undergrowth. This patch had been here for a while so low lying shrubs and such didn't grow as thick as they did near the edges of the woods we were in. The trees averaged over 50 feet tall, their straight limbed trunks towered above us.

“Ok,” I asked “before we continue I think I need to know a bit more about you.” She nodded and was about to begin when her son's voice called out to her from somewhere behind me along the trail. She sighed and propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me straight faced. “I'd rather we wait to get to know one another back at camp,” she nodded in the direction of her son's voice. “He gets nervous whenever I'm out of sight for very long. You know ... being deaf and all that. So, if I promise not to pull any more shit like that again ... can it wait?”

I watched her as she spoke the longest that I've heard her. Her blue eyes piercing me and asking me to understand and be patient with her. I couldn't refuse. I nodded assent and got myself up and turned around in a slow circle, looking for the make-believe danger that I fell for.

She laughed softly, “I promise there's not another trap for another 50 yards from us.” She stood up and grabbed her pack off the ground and stood looking at me and had a sort of sheepish look on her face. “Follow me and I'll get you through safely.” She walked past me and I had to resist an urge to grab her and kiss her hard on the mouth.

True to her word she pointed out yet another trip-wire strung out on the trail and this time pointed to a spot in the trees some 10 feet above our heads. I saw a small log that was studded with sharp spikes held up by some vines or greenish colored rope, and obviously it was made to swing down and hit a walker hard as soon as they broke the wire. Like before we had to duck walk our way under the wire to be cleared of it. As I shouldered my pack again, my ears picked up a noise in front of us and her son stepped into view of the trail some 20 yards ahead. He looked at me with that same distrustful glare and gave his mother a half smile making a few signs, one of them I recognized as a fist smacking into his palm, before turning on his heel and walked into the woods off the trail. His mother dropped her pack and bade me to do the same without speaking. I dropped my pack and started to draw my gun when she shook her head, making a hand motion to put my gun away, and motioned for me to follow. Curious I stepped off the trail behind her.

A couple of minutes of bushwhacking got us to a sort of clearing. Her son was standing by a body. A walker, and a dead one at that. One of their other booby traps had been sprung by a roamer. This trap had pinned the body and head to a large tree trunk and reminded me of a trap I've seen in some Vietnam movie years ago. A small square board about two foot square, set in a diamond configuration with a series of sharpened spikes made of steel rebar embedded through it, attached to a long stripped tree-limb that was tied between two smaller trees at right angle to the large tree that held the dead walker. As I examined the deadliness of the trap, the two were signing animatedly together. I chose to ignore them for the moment, studying the ingeniousness of their booby trap. It was fairly simple yet terribly effective. The idea was that a walker would go past the large tree in between the two smaller ones, hit the wire, springing the trap and get hit in the face and chest with the board of spikes, which would, given the strength of the tree limb they used, push them violently back against the large tree, trapping it there. How they managed to do that between the two of them said a lot. Obviously they were stronger than they looked.

I turned to the two and watched them. They were casual about the whole thing. Not even appearing alarmed that one of their “inner-traps” had been sprung. A hundred questions came to mind that I knew would have to wait.

The boy caught me watching them and suddenly stopped signing for a moment before remembering that I didn't understand the language and resumed. A moment later they seemed to reach a consensus and the boy pointed at me for a moment and then walked off in a huff. A part of me knew that I would have to watch him closely before understanding him more. Another part of me hoped that eventually we might like each other. He looked generally like a good kid. Just probably resenting my intrusion into the life he and his mother were making out here in the woods. I shook off the questions, mentally filing them to ask later. I got the feeling it was going to be an awkward first night.

The woman turned to me and beckoned me to follow without saying another word. Her brow had a furrowed crease to it that I later recognized as her being troubled by something. I had a feeling it was about me, but then again I admitted that I was just being paranoid. Still, paranoid kept me alive all these months.

We made our way back to the trail and followed it for another 20 yards. It wound in a type of zig-zag pattern before reaching a wide clearing encircled by some stout trees. There was still one more trip-wire that we had to cross under. Maggie spoke over her shoulder that we were past all their defenses. In the middle of that circle I could see some narrow tree-trunks that had been cut by a chain saw, all but one which stood roughly in the middle, had been cut to the ground. Automatically my eyes lifted up and my jaw dropped for the second time of the day. About 25 feet above us was a large platform that was supported by the circle of trees in the clearing. The platform was triangular in shape and a good 15 feet across along the sides.

Three ropes with a series of knots tied at intervals dangled from each of the three sides. Above it was a sort of roof made out of greenish woodland camouflage patterned canvas or tarp. For walls they used camo netting with tree branches that still had their leaves woven through the gaps between the faux camouflage patterns. This was supported by a network of ropes and tied to trees beyond the edges of the platform using a dark green braided rope that I recognized as called military “gold-line”. The center of the canvas seemed to be held up by a 10 foot length of 2X4 that could be found in any hardware store. Up close one could see it easily, from a distance however, with all the low-hanging branches and such, not quite so visible.

Unable to help myself I set my pack down and walked around the edges of the platform or tree house. The flooring was supported by a series of short pieces of 2x4's nailed into the trees which encircled the clearing. The platform itself seemed to be a couple of large pieces of ¼ inch plywood. Running underneath giving it support were an Y shaped bracing of more wood, with the center of the Y held up by the middle tree trunk in the circle. This was cut off at the top at the height of where the platform was. It was simple yet looked sturdy. I turned to the woman who watched me with that same grin on her face when she watched me examine the claymore mine set up. Underneath the platform, in each corner I could see clearly more claymores set at an downward angle. If all three of them went off at once then whatever was underneath would get shredded to pieces. It would blast the platform off the height of the trees but by then it wouldn't matter anyway.

She looked about ready to explain, thought better of it and made a “come here” motion with her hand. I stepped over to her as she walked over to one side of the triangle. As I stepped closer to her she motioned me off to one side. A movement got me to look over to my right and I saw the boy climbing up one of the ropes, going hand over hand and using the knots tied into the rope as a ladder. This told me that the boy was definitely stronger than he looked. I filed that fact away in my mind. When I stepped over to the spot she indicated I understood why. A crude rope ladder with wooden rungs dropped down next to her. I looked up and saw the boy staring down at me. Obviously I wasn't going to be totally welcomed here, but it seemed that he was over-ruled by the strength of his mother.


The woman grabbed the ladder by the sides and started climbing. I watched her technique as she went up smoother than I thought was possible. Instead of going straight up along the front she climbed along one side of the ladder, putting her feet on the rungs as she went up. This made for less jerky movements as she climbed. When she neared the top only then did she move to the front of the ladder and worked her way upwards until she was up past the edge of the platform, She spun neatly around and sat on the edge and looked down at me. After a moment she called down, she was smiling again. A good sign. I caught her son standing behind her, his face stony and belligerent. I decided to ignore it. Kid is going to have to learn to trust his mother's judgement. Considering all the preventative measures set around their campsite and how well she handled herself with me and the zombies back at the store, I'd say she knew what she was doing.


I sighed to myself and adjusted my pack on my shoulders. “I'm stronger than I look too kid.” I muttered under my breath and followed the woman's techniques on up the ladder. In a moment I was at the edge of the platform and moved around to the front. I could see now that the ladder extended higher than the floor making disembarking much easier. The ladder was supported by a cable tying the two ends of the ropes together and the cable was attached somewhere higher above the canvas. As soon as I stepped on to the platform the boy rudely pushed me aside and tugged upwards on a thin cord that I saw was attached to the base of the rope ladder. “Wally!” the woman called out sharply.


I turned to her and raised my hand to show that I wasn't offended, “don't worry about it.” I tried to assure her. She ignored me and waved her hand to get the boy's attention. At first I didn't think he was going to acknowledge her but then he turned his head and gave her a complicated look. It was both surly and submissive. He took a deep breath and turned standing almost at attention still holding on to the cord but his free hand straight down at his side. The woman spoke aloud as she signed to her son.


“You are about two steps from getting discipline duty. Do you understand me?” Her voice was hard and commanding, but I could see in her eyes that she was also hurt and angry at having to speak to him that way. I guessed correctly that the boy didn't answer right off and she repeated her question, empathizing each syllable. “You understand me?!” I couldn't help but turn back and watch the boy. I knew he was being embarrassed and deeply since he already resented my being there in the first place. A storm brewed behind his eyes, darkening them before he lowered his head slightly but never taking his eyes off his mother and the surliness went away, making him totally submissive. He made a fist and moved it up and down. His mother's voice came, softer this time. “Ok, put up the ladder and get the other ropes up.” This was a gentle command but the underlying tone said it was meant to be obeyed without question.


The boy didn't even give me another glance and began pulling on the cord once more. I studied this for a second, noting the ingenious of the design. The cord attached to the bottom of the ladder was strung down the length of the ladder then back up on the opposite side, then went straight up to a hole drilled to the cord's diameter into the wood where it was threaded through and stoppered with a knot at the end. When the ladder was hauled up, the cord would cause it to roll up on itself, like a window blind, another stopper knot, tied by hand near the top of the hole, held the whole thing in place. Since the platform was a good height off the ground, nobody or nothing would be able to pull it down and use the ladder.


I stepped away and tried to find a spot to stand where I wouldn't be in the way. “Go ahead and move over to the far corner, we can talk over there” she said, pointing the way. “You can take your pack off and leave it here along with your weapon.” indicating the sword. “Nobody will bother it.” she sighed and stepped past me as she removed her own pack from her shoulders, and dropped it to the floor. She all at once seemed very tired and very much alone.