Caught In A Bind:
by R. Powers
Part One Revised Edition
Our Story Begins
It's been nearly 3 months since the first outbreak and it's a miracle that I survived this long. A miracle that anyone, has survived this long. For the sake of getting this started, I'll just say that I was en-route home from working a graveyard shift (gads what a ghastly pun) during the initial phase of the outbreak as it happened. I worked at a tourist cave and was doing some late night maintenance on the lights and trail where as I normally was a tour-guide. My experience and expertise in moving around caves during my off hours, had the management assign me the extra hours of over time which, now I'll never collect. The night security guard of the main building had gotten to us before we managed to exit the cave itself and told us what was going on. Naturally we didn't believe him at first, because his story was just too fantastic. We were fortunate enough that our tourist attraction was a bit off the beaten path so we weren't immediately attacked.
When the guard dragged us over to his small portable tv, we were able to see what was happening beyond our little place in the world. Just our luck we happened to be living at the city now known as “ground zero”. It was horrific of course, national guardsmen alongside regular military and some law-enforcement were shooting at people whether they were zombies or not. One of our group of the five late night workers, had gotten a text from his wife, that they were in process of quarantining the city limits and nobody is getting out. A couple of us who had family inside the quarantine zone, as shown by a news graphic on the screen, took off and they probably got shot as soon as they crossed the lines in an effort to get with their wife and kids. The rest of us were either bachelors or divorced with families in other cities. Me, I was one of two bachelors, the supervisor and guard were of course the married ones who lived only a couple of miles from the place we were at.
Either way, far as I know, of that original group of six men at the cave, I'm the only survivor, among a few... hundred? Thousands? That are left in this country and perhaps on the entire planet. What were left are just the scattered remnants of the collective once known as human society. Practically nothing is left that would be remotely recognizable as a government or a cohesive group with an authoritarian head. National, state and county governments were unable to maintain order in the waves of panic that swept the country. Now things have quieted down a good deal. Assuredly there are pockets of survivors here and there. Small groups of 5 or 20 people who have banded together because of the belief in the adage “safety in numbers”. Of course the odds of survival of these groups vary from their members and their individual skill levels. Skills of procuring food and water or fighting and defense. Some I've seen, have a good group of people, well equip mentally to deal with the day to day stress, others... well, a couple I've found had been over-run and the entire group had been torn apart with a few of them opting out. They still got devoured but at least they wouldn't turn and add to the population. This is a certainty because the remaining survivors destroyed the skulls of the ones that had been eaten or died from blood loss, shock, before they took their own lives. I'll attribute to their demise to basic stupidity and complacency. You learn how eventually what not to do to attract the dead. One group was so disorganized that they had three men arguing for the leadership position constantly, no-one really knew who to follow, and it was impossible to barter with any of them. Even after all this time, I still don't let my guard down. I mean, hey... I'm still alive to write this aren't I?
Presently I'm alone, not exactly wandering aimlessly, scavenging, but with no particular place or destination to go. Part of me had always wanted to see this country as it was meant to be seen, a little at a time. Well, that's not true either, I really wanted now was to find any place that had as few zombies as possible. I've come to believe now that there's no mythological “zombie-free-zone” anywhere in the U.S., at least, I don't believe the stories from fellow survivors I meet along my way to “Nowheresville”, the place I was headed. I mean if there were, what the hell were they doing so far from it and why were they not headed in the that direction? Upon hearing these stories I simply and politely nod and say: “yeah, hope to see you there someday too, thanks for the trade by the way... you keep being careful. See ya!” I go on my way and they go theirs.
Along the way I've found that some folks do give viable tips on hot-spots, areas where there are thick numbers of the bastards and also migrating herds which number from as few as 50 to as many as several hundred. Some with a sense of decency put up home-made road signs warning off potential travelers. Some are even nice enough to offer alternate routes. I still chuckle at the idea that the folks who had all those billboards along the highways, and the DOT's with their signs, advertising their wares never imaged that they'd be turned into warnings for survivors of the worse plague in the history of mankind. It does my heart good to see some of them along my chosen route of the day. Tells me that the dead haven't eaten all the good folks. Unfortunately, they didn't eat all the bad folks either. As I found out the hard way.
One of these signs, along my route today, warned of a herd and gave several alternate routes. I stopped and scouted the area with my binoculars for a few moments before sitting on the hood of an abandoned car and got out my maps. The GPS became obsolete as soon as the folks managing the satellites had either been killed or abandoned their posts. So triple A road maps became popular again, at least with me. Every now and again I put my maps down, stand up, scout my immediate area in a 360 degree arc, then raise my binoculars and do another 360 at the area where my sight wouldn't reach. Giving myself the “all clear” I sit back down and study my maps again.
According to the instructions on the billboard I was referring to and the map in my lap, there was a small town which amounted to no more than a speck on that map. It stood to reason that might have a gas-station or even a small store that hasn't been totally cleaned out. Experience taught me that these were always worth checking out as long as they weren't more than a couple of miles off my chosen route along the interstate or highway. These aren't always empty, a few times I've found convenience stores still fully stocked, the employee had locked themselves in and still died behind the counter which in which they hid as the terror of the apocalypse unfolded outside. How they may have died I didn't always have a clue. I find myself amazed that the huge glass windows still intact and the stores un-looted/scavenged. But naturally, these are very few and even farther between. These places usually depress me because they remind me of just how quickly the plague had taken over and left few enough survivors that “accidental caches” like these are still untouched.
As I made my way up the off ramp after re-packing my maps and double checking my ammo supply in my various weapons, I kept a sharp look out for any movement, alive or dead. Once, I nearly got my head blown off by some kid who didn't bother to wait and see if I was going to eat him or not. Sadly, for him, he woke up a “sleeper” in the car he was standing next to and was cut down before I could get close enough to kill it. The thing was, the sleeper happened to be his mother. She had to have been, because they looked so much alike. I dispatched the mother with a hammer as she gnawed on her son and then still screaming kid with a sword thrust to the heart and finishing off with a hammer to the skull. I must've cried for hours, walking away from there as fast as I could before roaming or lurking zombies came around investigating the source of the screams from the kid. That little bastard was loud. Couldn't have been no more than 9 or 10. Still haven't figured out why I was crying. That must've been about month ago.
As I reflected on this past event, I slowed my steps as I neared the end of the off ramp. This was the kind that had a thick copse of young trees growing next to the stop-sign at the intersection. With no highway dept to cut them down they quickly grew wild and woolly and making it a perfect place for a zombie ambush if ever there was one. Not only zombies either, sometimes the aforementioned “bad people, liked to lay out an ambush as well. Only difference is that the zombies were just standing around or walking in a small circle. Their minds too empty to even consider moving in a single direction. I suspect that they were folks that had recently re-animated and found nothing around to eat and just hung around.
I listened carefully as I walked softer upon the pavement and towards the guardrail closest to the tree line. If I spotted zombies then I could at least (quietly) jump the guard-rail and get into the trees and hideout until it was safe to move on, or evacuate the area before being seen and/or heard.
When I got close to the intersection stop, I obeyed the sign and waited. I drew my sword out and held it in my left hand and rested my right on the butt of the 9mm sitting pretty in my shoulder holster. Quietly I stood there, waiting, listening, eyes checking within my vision range without moving my head. Slowly I turned my head side to side searching for movement, any movement. Then took several cautious steps forward into the intersection. The two lane road was clear as far as I could see, which was down a good ways. The bridge on my left also connected to a nice long straight-away which showed nothing. Scanning I saw the gas-station only a couple hundred yards down the road. I waited for a moment, for a gut reaction to the thought of checking out the gas-station. It all seemed okay, but something nibbled at me (pardon my pun, but that's how it felt). I began walking slowly towards the store, always checking left-right and behind me, by turning in a slow circle. There was nothing, and birds sang and flew over head.
I was at least 50 or so yards away from the parking area of the station/store. Suddenly, the nibbling went away, clean. Wasn't nervous and the hairs on my neck laid back down. Weird. Something to think about when I find a place to crash for the night. But for now, search for food and whatever-else I can get my hands on.
When I approached the building, I noted the difference from others that I've seen. It could've been a two story building but I could tell by looking at it that it had a high interior ceiling. It was a fairly new construct, so I guessed that it must've been built shortly before the outbreak. As I got closer I could see that the pumps out front were new as well. I angled myself away from the windows and got a good a look as I could at behind the store and the dumpster parked back there. Nothing that I could see thus far. Being prudent I decided to hold off on checking the interior until I made sure there was nothing lurking around the back... also to check the integrity of the back door in case I needed to make a hasty exit.
Walking all the way around, there was nothing, which was a good thing, but I still was cautious. My earlier days during this insanity taught me well from the mistakes that I made, and survived. The interior of the store would offer more places to hide, so to speak. Cashier's counter, rows of shelves and storage areas in the back of the store, all of these would have to be searched before I could even think of scavenging. When I first started, I got greedy and once was nearly caught by a small group. If I hadn't taken an full quart bottle of beer and used it to break apart a plate glass window, well this story wouldn't been written. Now I know to “sweep and clear” before foraging. As I moved forward, I sheathed my sword and kept my hand on the butt of my pistol.
I walked slowly in a crouch past the large windows along the store front, using whatever was placed as cover, trash cans, windshield wiper stands, newspaper racks, anything to cover my movements from whatever might be lurking inside, I tried to scout as much of the interior layout and any possible occupants as I could. Some of these stupid bastards tend to find their way into a building but can't find their way back out and oh Lordy, do they get hungry after a while. When I reached the doors they were naturally, inconveniently, exposed. Taking a deep breath I stood up slowly and peered inside. Nothing. Looking around outside again before taking the door handle in my grasp I could see all was as before. I peered back inside, and spied something on the floor that grabbed my attention.
It was a human hand. I stared at it for the longest time to ensure that it wasn't going to move. It could belong to a sleeper or simply an unfortunate. If it were a sleeper I could dispatch it easily enough with my sword but if it was an unfortunate, then it meant there may be a loner inside. I hated stuff like this, and wondered if the nibbling I felt earlier was a precursor to what I was seeing right now. I took a quick glance at my watch, which I always kept wound. It was getting on past two in the afternoon, where-ever I was, Kentucky? Or Indiana? I would have to re-check my maps. I only followed the interstate or high way lines on the maps not the state lines. To me they didn't exist anymore, only the roads. The deadly, life-giving roads. Checking abandoned cars for their license plates didn't help, since everyone and their grandmother scattered to the four winds in an effort to escape this plague. I should have used the “Welcome to whatever state I was crossing into” signs but like I said, I tended to ignore them and just paid attention to the numbered signs along the highway.
I tested the door, thankfully it was unlocked, meaning a noiseless entrance. I glanced around me once more before opening the door wide enough to enter, just wide enough for myself and my pack to get through. Once inside I drew my sword again and holstered the pistol, as quietly as I could and held it in front of me and began making my way towards the hand, glancing now and again down the rows of shelves as I passed, for anything or anyone else. There was nothing. Far as I could tell, the hand and myself were alone. Okay, so far so good.
The closer I got I could see that the hand was connected to a wrist and the wrist to an arm. Beyond that I would have to move around the counter. I was guessing that it was the store clerk who got caught. Nothing moved in the store except me and even then only about a step at a time. With every step I froze for at least a count of five before taking the next one. My gut was tightening as it always does when I encounter situations like this. You just never know what to expect. As I took another step I began to veer wide of the hand, to put as much space between me and it as possible, should it come to life.
I was instantly startled by a loud noise almost directly behind me, I spun and ducked into a crouch, the tip of my sword pointed at the sound, and looked directly into the eyes of the noise-maker. A freaking cat. It was likewise frozen in a crouch ready to flee at a moment's notice, it's eyes never leaving mine... except for when it flicked suddenly upwards behind me. Without thinking about it I swung the blade upwards over my head and back and felt it connect.
There was a familiar sounding growl and for a moment I was glad I didn't kill a living person trying to sneak up on me, but as I suspected, it a lurker that got trapped in the store after killing the clerk, or maybe it was the clerk, I'll find out in a quick second. Taking a quick forward step from my crouch I withdrew the sword and spun around swinging it upwards in a high diagonal arc which again connected with the zombie, slicing it nearly in half from the hip to the spinal cord at the breast plate. It wasn't dead, well it was but... oh crap you know what I mean dammit.
The damage was enough to allow me to pull the blade out and the thing grunted. Instead of striking it again with the blade, I spun again and launched a hard side kick at it's mid-section, which knocked it away from me and threatened to break it in half. The zombie fell and screeched loudly, the sound inhuman. It used to be a girl. I quickly stepped over to it before it could recover and held the sword handle in both hands and stood straddled over it's body. With a quick thrust downwards, my blade pierced the skull and the screeching stopped almost instantaneously. Not wasting time I withdrew the blade and pointed it at where the zombie had come from, the open door way leading to the back room. The owner of the hand laid exactly where I first saw them. And why not... the arm wasn't connected to anything now that I could see beyond the counter's end. I could see that the store was partially scavenged meaning some of the food stuff would still be good, particularly the canned stuff that got left behind.
Nothing else shambled on out from the doorway but that was no guarantee. Holding the sword in one hand I reached into the thigh pocket of my BDU's and got a mini-mag out. With one hand I was able to turn it on and shone the light into the darkness beyond the door. The place was quiet as a tomb, except for my breathing. I took a quick glance behind me and of course the cat was gone but still in the store. My eyes spied a mess on the floor where the cat was and I took a guess that the kitty managed to figure out how to tear open the small bags of cat food that had been stored there. Made me wonder how it got inside however but not for long, my focus turned to the door way from where the zombie appeared.
I gave a low whistle and waited. Nothing. Taking a few steps I was now lined up with the door with my light shining into the darkness on my left where I couldn't see beyond and the counter which was on my right and the disembodied hand on the floor. Made me wonder where the rest of the hand's owner went? My eyes flicked down at the dead zombie on the floor... nope she had all 4 limbs. I shone the light into the darkness before moving my head to peer inside, my sword held ready to strike at the slightest movement that didn't belong to me. My gut was tied in a Gordian knot and my heart pounded in my chest. Damn that was close, too close. If that cat's eyes hadn't broken contact with mine and flicked up to the dead bitch behind me... I made a quick mental note to make that cat happy by opening up every bag of food in the store.
I gave another short, quiet whistle, and waited, nothing. I moved my body further into the back of the store, still keeping myself within the door frame, ready to move out if I had to. My light shone all the way to the back wall where the beer cooler door was. There were stacks of boxes along one wall but packed tightly that nothing could hide between them. The other wall was a blank with a calendar hanging askew from it's nail and a small alcove where a desk and an overturned chair sat. The month grid and part of the picture of some idyllic mountain lake, was splattered with a dark substance, that I doubt was ink from a wayward pen shaking. The month showing on the calendar I quickly noted was the same that the outbreak started.
A dead computer monitor and desktop model sat on one corner of the desk and a small safe just underneath on the floor... otherwise that was it. Behind me along the same wall was the back door, rigged with an alarm that would probably never go off were I to go out that way. Directly behind me was a steel ladder bolted to the wall that lead up to a trap door to the roof. The ceiling of the back room was as high as the rest of the store's. A good 15 feet above me. The ladder was set to where one would've needed a chair or step-ladder to get to the bottom most rung. I looked around and only saw the chair by the desk.
The next part I hated a lot because it meant having to go into the beer cooler to ensure that it was just me, the cat and the dead babe and the arm were the only ones in the store. The beer cooler meant that I would be trapped without an exit. Still I had to check. Experience taught me that. I walked quickly to the cooler door, more out of my desire to get the hell out of there than anything else. I was starting to get creeped out. Holding the sword out behind me ready for a quick thrust I pulled the cooler door open and shone my light inside.
Found the owner of the arm lying on the floor. A guy, the store clerk, still dressed in his uniform sans sleeve and the arm that was in it. There was a belt tied around the stump of the arm where it had been torn off. He'd been dead for a long time but the low oxygen level of the cooler thanks to the rubber seals around the doors kept him from rotting away too quickly. He was propped up in a sitting position on the floor, his legs splayed out open in front of him, his head leaning back against the wall, mouth wide agape in pain, terror or both, a huge black stain over his clothes and the floor underneath him testifying to the massive blood loss he must've experienced even with the make shift tourniquet. But that wasn't what killed him finally. The side of his head was blown apart and the large caliber revolver in his remaining hand sat on the floor beside him. Realizing that he was going to die anyway he blew his brains out. Did he know that he would turn if he didn't? Apparently he had been attacked, likely by the dead girl I just dispatched, gotten his arm ripped off and he ran to the beer cooler and locked himself in, and died from blood loss. If he lies undisturbed they'll find a mummy here someday and probably call the store his ante-chamber of food stores to wish him well in the afterlife. Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen. Made me wonder however why he didn't turn. I didn't want to bother with it, just get the food and get out and get on down the road.
I gave the cooler a quick once-over to satisfy nothing else was in there and backed out and almost fell flat on my ass as I tripped over the cat which tried to get past me and into the cooler itself.
“Damned cat!” I scowled at it as it took a position on the dead guy's lap and stared back at me, it's ears flattened on it's head. “Just for that I'm gonna leave your little ass in he...” I stopped as the cat again looked behind me and hissed fiercely. I spun around quickly holding the sword out in front of me. Nothing. Then, I saw through the glass display doors of the beer cooler and to the outside windows. Movement, lots of movement. I quickly turned off my light and got out of the cooler and tiptoed quickly tothe door frame leading into the store and crouched down. Carefully I peered around the edge. What I saw froze my knotted gut to ice.
Outside the store were scores of walkers milling around. A quick study revealed that they were not trying to get inside but it still didn't make me feel any better. I was trapped, and the store was unlocked.
