Part 1 Our Story Begins - Revised

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.

Part 2 Escape from The Store - Revised

My mind was screaming at me to think of a way outta there. Trying to go via the back door might be suicide as there may be zombies meandering just outside the door. I looked around quickly for options. My eyes landed finally on the steel ladder, bolted to the wall that was now in front of me. My eyes followed it up to the ceiling where the trap-door was. I guessed that I could get up on the roof quietly and just lay there until the group wandered off. That could take a day or two depending upon how things go. Nobody I've met have been able to figure out particular habits of zombies, singularly or in groups. Except the herds, they're almost like lemmings, mindlessly following a stretch of highway or interstate in search of food. They're rarely in woods or fields which makes a traveler like myself reasonably safe. Roamers and lurkers are (now) laughably easy to get away from or fight, if one is so inclined or forced to. Groups, like this one which my quick glance guessed them to number at about 25 give or take can hang around in one area for reasons nobody can figure out... or really care. There's not a science dealing with the study of zombies, no Zombiologists writing Nobel prize winning papers. One thing is for certain, zombies have better eyesight than their cloudy cataract eyes should have. They're based on movement, like the T-Rex from that Jurassic Park movie. They also have great hearing and sense of smell, which makes hiding from them pretty challenging to say the least.

Presently, I would have to cross the open door frame to reach the ladder, not to mention I would have to jump to grab the bottom most rung and chin-up myself to the next one and the next until my feet can get a purchase. Wouldn't be so bad, but throughout my entire time in the store I didn't take off my pack. Thankfully I learned how to pack light but the thing still weighed in at a good 30 pounds. My concern was being able to get myself and the backpack through the opening of the trap door without having to take it off.

I was about to make a move towards the ladder when I heard the front door open. It was now or never. I watched the male zombie staring at the hand laying on the floor and the body of the dead one nearby. It took a step towards it, when a noise and movement distracted it. Again that cat saved my life as it must've tried finding a way out of the beer cooler. The zombie growled and stepped off towards the rear of the store.

I scrabbled on my hands and knees across the open door to the wall, where the ladder was bolted to and slowly stood up. I raised one hand to guess how high I would have to jump to grab that bottom rung. Too far. I looked back out in the store again and saw that another zombie had made it's way inside. It too was going towards where the first one had walked to the rear of the store. Frantically I looked around and saw the over turned chair on the floor.

Crud, I would have to cross the open door frame again, grab the chair quietly, go back across the door frame and set up the chair to stand on to reach the rung of the ladder. Way too much movement to be quiet enough. It was either that, or fight two zombies in close quarters with a dozen or more outside waiting their turn. Quickly weighing the risk, I sheathed my sword and moved to the chair on my toes, picked it straight up and moved back to the door-frame, a quick peek showed the two walkers were now occupied in trying to get to the cat behind the glass doors of the drink display. Crossing the door frame I caught out of the corner of my eye, yet another zombie opening the front door and letting themselves in. Mouthing curses I set the chair down quietly as I could and stood on it. Thankfully I was able to reach the bottom most rung and began pulling myself up before stopping myself.

If I could do this, they could probably do the same as well. Zombies may be stupid for the most part, but they have that intuitive sense and mimic what their prey does. I could try to bring the chair up with me as I go. If anything I'll have a bomb to drop on any that try to make their way up the ladder behind me. On my pack I carry a small assortment of carabiners that hang loose on the loops and straps. The chair was metal and had a loop from the back rest to the top of it's frame. It was going to be tricky, especially with the pack on my back throwing me off balance but what choice did I have?

A fourth zombie had found it's way inside the store. That was it, no more quiet time or being sneaky, I'd already been spotted. The idea of dragging the chair up with me went right out the window as I leapt for the lowest rung again and grabbed hold. With a grunt I managed to pull myself up enough to get the next rung and brace my feet against the wall. I could feel something grabbing at my pack and panic galvanized me into an adrenalin rush that allowed me to pull myself up to the third rung and get my foot on the bottom rung. Now I could climb. I went a body length up the ladder and paused long enough to look down. Sure enough all four were crowded in the back room and reaching up to try and grab me. One of them was tall enough make him look like he could reach that lower rung. “Screw you guys!” I muttered at them and kept climbing.

When I reached the trap door, I pushed at it and it didn't give. Sure, why not? It was padlocked. Homeboy in the cooler probably had the key on a ring in his pocket. Below me the zombies were still growling and reaching. I could see that at least for the time being I would be safe from them coming up after me because they pushed the chair out of their way with their legs and one of them knocked it over. Like I said, they're pretty stupid most of the time. I pushed at the trap-door again, hoping that maybe the lock was of a piss-poor quality and give way or wasn't closed all the way. No such luck, I read the brand name... good ole' “Master” brand, the “tough under fire” sticker was still on it, taunting me.

I knew I couldn't just hang on the ladder forever. Zombies will simply not go away when there's live bait just out of reach. Months ago, I saw the bodies of two people who thought climbing a tree would save themselves. Their bodies were crow-eaten and thin and partially decomposed. The old joke of never seeing a cat skeleton in a tree or telephone pole came to mind when I saw that. No cat skeletons but definitely dumb ass humans. Now I was in the same predicament. Sheesh.

I felt confident that the walkers wouldn't be able to climb up after me and rested for a moment on the ladder to think things out. “Shut the hell up will ya, trying to think” I shouted at the zombies below me which were of course, still growling and moaning. I took mental inventory of what I had and lamented that I didn't carry a set of bolt cutters with me. Of course not, even a small one weighs a hefty 7-9 pounds and how often would I have to use it? Well once... like right now. I heard the front door open again over the growls of the ones below me. “Yeah, sure, more the merrier.” I muttered aloud. If enough of them came inside the store and if I made it to the roof I could lower myself down and make a clean break of it. If I made it to the roof. The words on that sticker taunted me again, “tough under fire”. I thought about using my 9mm to shoot the lock off... but that would be damned dangerous with the ricochet. I could shoot the lock and the slug could bounce off and smack me right off the ladder. A genius move if there ever was one, I thought to myself sarcastically.

I looked down and saw that there was now a fifth zombie that joined the group below me. It found the arm on the floor and was gnawing on it. That attracted the attention of one of the others who made a grab for it and a small tussle ensued. Would've been funny, under other circumstances.

I pointed towards the beer cooler, “hey fellas, there's a nice meal inside that beer cooler, g'wan, it won't put up a fight or nothing.” I kept gesturing towards the cooler door and one of them actually turned to see what I was pointing at. A reflexive action no more, since it turned it's attention back to focus solely upon me again. I could feel myself getting tired just standing on that ladder, sweating and trying to figure out a way outta the bind that I was in.

I looked at the lock more closely then at the hasp that it was connected to. Wishing I had a hammer, I realized that I was going to have to take the chance of shooting myself to get that lock opened. My mind worked at the variety of ways to do it. Then I remembered, my leatherman was on my belt loop behind my back, in it's sheath. My pack had been resting on it for so long that I tend to forget that it was there. I looked at the lock again and saw that the plate staple was held in by four phillips screws. The door itself was steel, which meant the screws were sheet metal types. It would take some doing but I could work the screws out. Beats having a stray ricochet smack in me where it would hurt.

Looping my arm over a rung I reached around behind me to find one of the carabiners and got it and then hung it on the rung in front of me, then worked the pack off of one shoulder before switching arms and getting it off the other. I lowered myself down a rung or two, which excited the zombies below me, “dream on assholes” I said as I got the carabiner on the top loop of the pack and bent down to hook it on a rung just below my waist so it'd be out of the way. I got the leatherman out of the holster behind my back and opened it up to the phillips head, then climbed up to where my head and shoulders was bent against the door and went to work on the first screw.

Naturally the first one I chose was the easiest one and I got it out. The second one threatened to strip the head as it was a bit stubborn, but after careful turning I got that one free, I dropped the screws down not caring if they hit the walkers or not. The third turned out to be the bitch-kitty as it was already partially stripped and the phillips cross kept slipping out. I took a look downward and there were more zombies crowded around below me. I'm sure the interior of the store behind them was becoming packed. I sighed and tried to ignore them and went to work on the fourth one, skipping over the third for the time being. If push came to shove I could probably just pound away at the door with my back until it gave way. For right now I needed that fourth one free.

Sweat was running down my face and stinging my eyes. Below the zombies were still at it, moaning and growling reaching up trying to get me. I almost dropped the leatherman at one point thanks to the sweat building up on my palms... not to mention the odor of all those stinking, rotting bodies was starting to get to me in that cramp space. Finally the fourth one was free. Now back to the third one. I wanted to stop and take a break but was afraid I'd start cramping up if I did. Kept at it, until the screw was about almost out, however the head was now totally stripped. But it didn't matter, the needle nose pliers should help with the rest.

I was growing impatient and irritable with each passing moment. This time I did take a breather to calm down and relax, promising myself to shoot a couple of those bastards once I got the door opened just to make myself feel better. I took a look down and saw something that made my jaw drop. A zombie, towering over all the others made it's way into the cramped space. The guy must've been at least 7 foot, but from my angle, appearances were deceptive. It's fingers were able to reach the lower most rung, but just barely. If that sucker managed to get enough of a hold, it could climb up. I was torn between shooting that sucker and trying to finish the last screw. Figured that I'd work on the screw. If the walker did manage to get up the ladder then I could always shoot it and hope that the body will damage some of the others below. At least I had an incentive to keep working at that last screw.

About a minute later with the needle nose, practically tearing up the head of the screw I got it free, the plate swung down and was held on by the lock on the opposite plate. I gave the door a push and it swung up easily, making me grin with the irony of putting in all that hard work.

I took a look down and tall boy was still trying to get a grip on the lowest rung. It's fingers brushing against the metal in a feeble attempt to obtain a grip. I lowered myself enough to open the carabiner holding my pack to the rung, unhooking it and pulling it up with me as I started to climb up and out of the building. With a heave, I managed to toss the pack up above me before joining it , relishing in the cool air outside.

The zombies below seemed to get louder in frustration that their prey had escaped. When I managed to catch my breath I took a quick look around the roof and saw that I was indeed alone. I stood up and walked to the edge of the building and took stock of the situation outside. There were a few walkers still milling around out front, seems that most of them went inside with the others. I walked around the building's edge taking stock of how bad of a situation I was in. A couple were on one side, another one was milling around the back and banging at the back door, presumably attracted to the noise coming from the inside. The other side of the building where the dumpster and a few abandoned vehicles were parked had also only one zombie. It were almost as if they were guards.

I pulled my gun from it's holster and chambered a round. As I pointed it at the lone zombie, I hesitated and realized that the noise would attract the crowd indoors back outside again. I lowered the gun and turned and sat on the edge for a moment, then got back up again remembering that I needed to shut the trap-door and find a way to secure it, in case tall boy found a way up the ladder. No, screw that, tall boy is gonna get gone. Angrily, I walked over to the trap door where growls and moans emanated, like from the gates of hell and peered down inside. Good thing I did too, tall boy managed to get a hold of the lower rung and was pulling himself up. “Well, that wasn't a smart thing to do kiddo” I said and pointed the gun down, centering my sights between his eyes and pulled the trigger.

The round smashed into his forehead blowing out the back of his skull and spraying the pieces over the faces of the other walkers. Tall boy hung on for a moment until the hands reaching up and grabbing managed to pull him back down. I sighted a couple more and shot them in the head just to relieve my anger and frustration at having been nearly caught. I understood that I was more angry at myself than at them. But it was nice to be able to shoot and kill something to make myself feel better. Was about to shoot a few more that reminded me of some people that I didn't particularly care for and caught myself. Don't waste ammo, came the refrain in my mind, while I trained myself to survive in the past few months. I took a quick study of the remaining zombies and saw that they wouldn't be able to reach the lower rungs and was satisfied that I could ignore them for the time being... maybe even get some sleep. But not yet.

Examining the trap door as it was shut I saw that it too could be locked or at least tied shut. I went over to my pack and opened the top flap and reached inside. I had no padlock myself but some short pieces of thick gauge wire that could at least hold the door shut temporarily, buying me some time. I used my leatherman to cut the wire to size and then threaded it through the holes of the hasps on the door and frame. Then twisted the wire together with a couple of turns so that it would be tight against the metal. With the door wired shut I was able to relax a little more. The building had no other ladder on the outside bolted on the building, which was a good thing. Walking around the perimeter again studying what was on the ground below I could see an extension ladder lying on the ground, wedged behind a sort of storage shed that was against the building. I had rope in my pack and thought that I could probably find a way to hook on to it and haul it up. But it would be for later.

For the first time I glanced at the sky and took note of the weather. There was some cloud build up in the distance. Watching them for a long moment they didn't look like they were going to be headed my way. Still I knew that I needed to take the small tarp out of my pack and set up for possible rain if need be. In about a half hour I had the basics of a camp set up. My sleeping bag, an inflatable mattress, all under the tarp which I strung from the large refrigeration unit set on the roof. Long thin lengths of cord tied to a grommet on each end of the tarp to whatever I could find made for a decent roof. From there I scouted the roof of the building for anything I could use to weigh down the end of the tarp lying on the reefer unit. There were a few of those five gallon buckets lying about. I figured they'll do. With luck one of the buckets was half full of hardened tar from a patch job of the roof, the other was empty but I was able to scrape up enough loose gravel with my boots to scoop up with my hands, put in the bucket and make it heavy enough to hold down a corner. If there wasn't any strong winds that night the buckets should do just fine. After a bit I relaxed under the tarp and cooked a freeze dried dinner and settled in for the night. I knew that I wouldn't get much sleep anyway but realized that I'd be useless to myself in the morning, if I didn't make the effort.

Part 3 Getting Off The Roof - Revised

Some time during the night I heard a banging noise. My eyes went immediately to the trap door. It wasn't moving and the sound seem to come from behind me. There was a slight breeze going on yet I took nothing for granted. My gun was in my hand before I even realized it, and I was up on my feet turning towards the sound as soon as it was made again. I froze waiting. Dead or alive if any shape moved in the darkness that I could see, it was going to get shot. The noise repeated itself and cautiously I moved laterally to try and bring it in view. Nothing.

I kept the barrel of the pistol pointed at the rooftop, it'd be bad for an accident to happen. I hated to use my flashlight, especially in the dark with zombies about, even if I was on a roof, it was not a smart move. I decided not to use it. I decided to take a chance and spoke low but clearly. “If you're alive, you're about to get shot so better say a few words to keep on breathing.” There was a pause and then the sound was made once more. The barrel of my gun now faced the direction of the noise, I was inwardly relieved that it didn't shake or waiver, because I was caught in a gut tightening grip of fear. If the zombies had found a way up onto the roof then I'd be having to make a hasty exit and leave my stuff behind and possibly face more on the ground in the total darkness. Not a good thing at all.

Normally I find an abandoned tractor trailer rig with a sleeper cab and check it for anything inside and use that as a place to crash for the night, the doors locked and windows rolled up, what was also good about them is that most sleepers have curtains that go all the way around the windows to give the driver a darker place to sleep, so I'm relatively safe for the night. Only once did I wake up in the morning and found myself in the middle of a migrating herd. With the height of the cab and the curtains, I was lucky not to been spotted when I peeked out the window. Scared the crap out of me to be sure, but I managed to move quietly inside and wait it out. Part of me was tempted to lay on the horn to see if I could scare them... but that was the kid in me. Luckily, the adult in me said shut up and keep my hands on my weapons and I listened to the voice of maturity. In about half an hour the herd moved on. I took a little extra time inside to cook a freeze dried breakfast and then waited even a little more to be sure there wasn't any stragglers lagging behind. However tonight, I had to sleep in the open, which meant more risk of exposure. During these times I don't sleep as heavily as I would in a truck-sleeper unit. Tonight was definitely one of those times.

Since nothing answered my challenge with neither a growl or a trembling voice asking me not to shoot, it had to be something that broke loose and was banging now and again thanks to the breeze. I had to find it so that the noise wouldn't excite the zombies inside or out. Since the plague, the world had gotten deathly quiet, pun intended. No highway or road noise buzz that everyone had grown accustomed to. Now only natural (and un-natural) sounds could be heard. Some folks I've talked to, said hearing deer or even mice as they make their way through the woods, or along the miles of now abandoned roads freaks them out more than the sound of shuffling zombies. I try to reassure them that they'll grow accustomed to it and in doing so will aid in their survival. That soon, they'll be able to distinguish between a raccoon searching for food and a zombie making it's way to your campsite.

Moving around I managed to find that a metal cover of the air-conditioning unit, I was using for a lean-to, had broken free and was indeed being banged around by the breeze. I took out my leatherman and blessed the maker of the device, and went to work on the screw that was holding it to the unit's frame. Once free, I set the cover down and peeked inside. A mouse nest and some scat was the only thing that didn't belong. I noticed as well some time ago that my eyes had learned how to become accustomed to low-light conditions. Tonight there was a partial moon and a few clouds. Man-kind, I reflected, was adapting. I was glad that it was a first generation and not a gradual adaptation passed on from parent to child. It meant that any children born to this generation of survivors, and their children will be far more efficient in detecting danger than their predecessors.

I went back to where my sleep roll was, holstered my weapon, and instead of lying back down, I dug down inside my pack for a head-lamp that had a red led in it. I put it on and clicked it to the red LED. Zombies would see it, but not as quickly as they would a white light. I shone it around the entire roof and quietly walked around the edges, occasionally shining it down and lighting up a zombie shambling below. I covered the light with my hand and ducked down whenever the zombie showed a hint of looking upwards. If they spotted me then they would stubbornly hang around until something else made them move on.

In the distance I could see zombies, in twos and threes ambling off away from the store and back towards the freeway. Perhaps these would too, eventually. I walked over to the trap-door and gave a listen. No such luck, they were still milling around, growling as they bumped into one another but hanging around hoping that their prey would be stupid enough to try and come down that way. No such luck you dead bastards, I thought to myself. I rapped on the metal cover of the trap-door with my knuckles twice.

Mainly, so that they won't end up wandering back outside. I discovered that zombies will stay in an area as long as they “think” they might have a shot at getting something to eat. My little raps on the cover re-whetted their appetites which made them want to hang around longer. I wanted them to stay inside the store for as long as possible if I were to make an exit off the roof. Their being inside the building and unable to see me leaving would heighten my chances of getting away clean. Glancing at my watch I estimated that I had at least another couple hours before sunrise and decided to try and get some more rest. I stepped lightly back to my sleeping roll and sat down under the tarp and instead of laying down to sleep, I sat there, in a comfortable lotus position, my legs crossed over each other, trying to work up a plan to get off the roof.

A bird sang and startled me awake. I looked around quickly and quickly remembered where I was. My eyes went to the trap-door once more. It remained as I left it and I relaxed. I looked at my watch and understood that I was more tired than I realized, for I slept about another four hours. I got up to take a leak, wincing at the pins and needles in my legs, since I fell asleep in the position I was sitting in, my back to the AC unit and my legs crossed over one another. I moved over to the closest edge, shaking my legs as I went trying to get the blood flowing back in them again. I took in the surroundings and found that no other additional zombies were about. There were still a few outside milling about, no doubt the ones I saw from last night, and the ones inside were probably still crowded at the base of the ladder. As I un-zipped I had a sudden thought. I walked over to the trap-door, bent and removed the wire that I used to hold it shut and opened it up. The effect was immediate. The growls instantly grew louder and more excited as the sudden light poured in on top of them.

I peered down inside and saw dead hands reaching up in vain at me. I pulled myself out and aimed my stream down on top of them. Soaking the ones closest to the ladder. Again the effect was immediate as the ones in the back surged forward to reach the ones covered in my urine. The wet ones turned and tried to fight off the ones grabbing at them. “Ohh-kay, that's something good to know.” I muttered aloud to myself. Below me it had turned to pandemonium as dead ones fought off their fellow dead to prevent from being eaten. One was being torn apart and being gnawed upon before the piece was dropped to the floor, apparently the sense of taste was not palatable to them. Whether it was the taste of urine or dead flesh or both it didn't matter. What did matter that the odor of my urine attracted them strongly enough to temporarily forget that I was above them, fresh meat.

“Learn something new everyday I guess, even in the land of the dead” I mused as I tucked myself back in zipped back up, then shut the trap-door with a bang, not bothering to tie it shut. I wasn't going to hang around long enough to worry about any potential climbers. I stepped carefully to the side of the building that had the ladder resting on the side.

There was just a single zombie roaming about and it's ears seemed to be picking up on the excitement that's going on inside. It headed over to the back door and began banging on it in a effort to get inside. That wasn't good because the noise may attract the ones inside and they'll eventually push on the door handle/alarm and let them outside. I needed to get that ladder before that happened.

I looked around the building roof for something I could use as a bomb. Thinking that I could drop something on that sucker's head and crush it would buy me time enough to work on getting the ladder up the wall to the roof and at the same time block the back door, hopefully long enough to get me down and out of the area. Everything was bolted to the roof naturally and I tried to remember if my personal inventory included a small socket wrench set or all I had was my leatherman. No, just my leatherman, which would make things slow and ugly, but I figured that if I had to spend another night up here at least I had food and water to make it. But only for one more night. Remember, in the first place, my purpose of going into the store was for supplies.

I walked around looking for anything that wasn't going to be a pain to loosen and not too heavy for me to lift and carry to the area where the back door was. A small cooling unit rested off to one side and probably was my best bet. I went over to it and went to work on it immediately. It was held to the roof by four legs with a single bolt through each foot. Getting the bolts off were at first involved a lot of gripping the leatherman tight as I could and working the head loose, but thankfully once they were loose the bolts came up easy enough that by half way I was able to unscrew them by hand. Thankful for shoddy workmanship I managed to get the unit free in about forty-five minutes.

I wrapped my arms around it and gave it an experimental heft. Ok not too bad, about as much as a bag of concrete mix and just as unwieldy. On the plus side it had sharp corners which, if I dropped the unit right would pierce the zombie's head and crush the brain. I carried the unit over to the edge where the zombie was still pounding on the door. So far, my golden shower still kept the walkers inside busy enough to ignore the pounding on the back door. I wrestled the unit to the raised edge of the roof and quickly took aim and let it go. There was a satisfying crunch noise and the moaning of the zombie and the pounding on the door ceased. I looked over and was happy to see that my aim wasn't too bad. The unit landed on the zombie's back and took it down but rolled the right way and crushed the head enough to put it out of commission. Not so lucky that the body and unit didn't block the back door quite enough to prevent any inside to open it up.

Not wasting time to worry about that. I went over to my pack and dug around and found one of the coils of nylon cordage I lifted off an abandoned Ace Hardware store some time ago. Taking one of the carabiners off my pack, I reached into one of my shirt pockets for a small rubber band that I use to pony tail my hair and used that to hold the gate of the carabiner open. I unraveled the rope and tied a bowline on a bight on one end and hooked the carabiner through that. If I was lucky I could use the carabiner as a hook and grab the cord that was used on the extension ladder and lift it up to the roof enough for me to pull it up by hand the rest of the way.

When I took this rig over to the edge I spied that another zombie had made it's way around the back. I elected not to worry about it because it hadn't spotted me and was walking away from the ladder. I stood directly above the ladder and began lowering the carabiner down. Lucky luck, I managed to snag the cord on the first try.

Taking up the slack I spied out of the corner of my eye, that the new arrival out back had finally spied me and was making it's way over to where I was. I pulled up on the ladder and found it was a stuck on something. Cursing I gave it some slack and tugged it again. This time it came free and I began pulling it up. The zombie was now at the ladder and began grabbing at it. “Leave it alone asshole!” I hollered down at it and tugged harder. The walker didn't have a good enough grip on the rungs yet but I wasn't about to give it a chance. I heaved upwards and grabbed as much rope as I could as it rose up the wall. Kicking myself for not putting on gloves at first before trying this stunt, I ignored the stinging that the thin cord was giving my hands as I hauled up the ladder.

The zombie's grabbing motions were more in it's vain attempt to get at me than to prevent the ladder from helping me escape. Finally the ladder's lower rungs were out of that zombie's reach and I managed to get the top rung up high enough for me to reach down and grab it and pull it up the rest of the way. Sweating I let the ladder clatter to the rooftop and I sat down to catch my breath. The zombie below was still growling trying to get up to me.

I removed my pistol and checked the loads and chambered a round and set the safety on and re-holstered the gun. Not wanting to waste anymore time I got up and began packing up my sleeping roll and getting everything placed back inside my pack and shouldered it onto my back and belted around my waist and chest.

I grabbed the scabbard holding my sword and set it between my back and the pack's waist band at a right angle. The sword would be a hindrance when I start going down the ladder, unfortunately I would have to use the pistol to knock down the few zombies, to give me time enough to get the hell out of there. Cursing that I would have to make a run for it and through the woods, one of the things I kicked myself for not doing was checking to see if any of the vehicles were operable enough for me to drive off, much less have their keys in them. Hell, one of the zombies in the area could have been the owner of one of the vehicles and have the keys in their pockets, but I wasn't going to bother to find out which one. I was still learning after all this time.

I moved around the building to find the best place to set the ladder and scrabble down and start booking for the woods nearby and shoot as few zombies as possible. The side with the dumpster and vehicles didn't have any zombies ... yet. It would have to do. I went over to the ladder and lifted it and carried it over to the edge where I intended to go down.

I extended the ladder as much as I could and still tried to keep it as quiet as possible. No sense in attracting the zombie out back around to me until at least I was off the ladder and ready to go. Before lowering the ladder I took a quick peek to the front of the store and saw that it was oddly free of zombies. I didn't want to worry too much about where they were... as long as they weren't around where I planned on going down the building. I hoped that they heard the bastard in the back and were joining him in trying to entice me to come down for breakfast.

I lifted the ladder and rested the foot end down on the raised edge and took a breath and said a quick prayer. I pushed it out far enough, counter-balancing the weight with my own on the top end to keep it off the ground for as long as possible. Finally it was too much and threatened to pick me up with it, as the foot lowered itself down. There was some noise but not too bad. Finally the feet reached the ground and the ladder was at a steeper angle than I would've liked but it was at least going to be stable for my climb down.

Pulling my weapon and removing the safety I swung my feet over the edge and on the highest rung. So far no zombies. I kept my weapon pointed towards the back corner of the building ready to blow the head off the first zombie that showed up. I kept trying to watch three things at once. The front and back corners of the building and my feet on the rung of the ladder. As I neared the last three rungs I hopped off and took a step back. Now I was able to hold my weapon in both hands and walked backwards until I ran into the dumpster. I turned and saw the way ahead of me was clear. I ducked down to give me more cover and just as I did a zombie appeared around the back corner.

I froze in my crouch, keeping my ears open to try and determine which way the zombie would make it's way around the dumpster so I could move around the opposite side. I hoped it would come around the side I was closest on so I could move back and then zip around to one of the vehicles for additional cover. I gave a quick look around, and saw that within reach was an empty plastic soda bottle. I grabbed for it and then tossed it up and over the dumpster towards the front and backed slowly (after a quick peek behind me) and waited for the zombie to appear so I could slip around the side. The ruse worked and the zombie moved over to the where the bottle landed.

As it moved so did I, using the zombie's shuffle to help muffle the sound of my own movements.
As I rounded the corner of the dumpster I felt something bump into me. I spun on my feet and came face to face with a pair of eyes... they were the deepest blue that I've seen in a long time. More importantly they were alive.

Part 4 Out To The Woods - Revised

It took me a moment to register that I was indeed looking at another living, human being. Another moment to recognize that she was female. Then I ignored her in favor of the zombie that went after the drink bottle. I looked back over my shoulder to see if I could mark where that one went, then turned my eyes back just in time to see her move her arm. Mine moved in reflex and placed the barrel of my gun against her temple just as I felt the sharp prick of her knife at my throat. Both of us froze, scared to make the next move.

It's when I heard a faint growl somewhere beyond the dumpster that I spoke first in a tight whisper. “We could kill each other but I can guarantee that you ain't coming back as a walker.” I could see her pupils dilate as my words sunk in. I continued once I knew I had her complete attention, “now either try to kill me, or come with me and live or get the hell out of my way.” Something bumped into the dumpster that we were hiding behind with a thud. It had to been one of the other zombies from around back. I felt the pressure of the knife point leave my throat, then what felt like a drop of sweat running down my neck into my shirt. Great, the dumb bitch cut me. I didn't think it was bad but I didn't want to take the chance of putting the scent of blood in the air.

I removed my gun from her temple and turned to see behind us. It was indeed another zombie, wow, and a fatty this time, don't see too many of those now-a-days. Must've been a late bitten. One of those survivors that finally got caught. Either way it wouldn't matter because in about three seconds it was coming around the dumpster where we were crouched behind. Thankfully it still hadn't spotted me hunkered down and peering around the corner, it's eyes were focused (?) on something beyond us... probably at nothing. I ducked back and nodded to one of the cars. She nodded back and moved quietly around the Toyota that was parked next to the dumpster. I followed right on her heels, trying to be even more quiet and making sure my sword wasn't going to catch on anything and give us away.

From there she silently pointed at the woods which were now about 30 yards away. I shook my head and held up three of my middle fingers and then made a “walking” motion with two fingers, followed by a jerk of my thumb in the direction of the back of the building. She got it and moved around to the rear of the car.

I watched her and studied her movements to see whether or not she would get me killed or be stealthy enough to lead us out of the maze that we now found ourselves in. She stopped with her head below the trunk and peered underneath the vehicle out behind it. Her hand shot back halting me from moving any further. I took my eyes off her long enough to check on the fatty, he moved out into the front of the building with the other walker that I had previously distracted. My eyes darted to the rear of the building and didn't see the others, not yet anyway. I looked back at the woman, not even bothering to take note of her except her movements and hand signals which she was doing very well with by the way. Someone had taught her or she had previous training in covert escape and evasion techs. She looked old enough to have been in the military for a few years, so maybe.

Her open palm clenched into a fist and she then opened her hand again and waved me back. A zombie was headed our way. I turned quietly and looked at whatever route was available to us. Good thing too because somehow there was another zombie suddenly standing not more than four feet in front of me. Again, fortune favored the bold because this one hadn't spotted us yet. I reached around behind me for the handle of my sword and began to draw it. Before I could however a good sized knife magically appeared in it's forehead and it went down in a crumpled heap, the only sound was it's body hitting the bumper of the other car parked next to the Toyota and then the pavement. I turned my head back and the girl gestured frantically past the now dead zombie. In spite of myself I gave her a grin and then headed to where she was pointing. She moved past me to retrieve her knife, I don't know if she grinned back but my ears caught the gristly sound of her knife being pulled from the zombie's skull as she followed.

We reached the edge of the last car, a huge Buick Skylark with one tire up on the body of a dead person. Zombie or an unfortunate, we wouldn't pause long enough to find out. The raised fender gave us additional cover without forcing us to hunker down quite as low. The woods were tantalizingly close now, probably no more than fifteen yards now. If we reached them without being spotted we could duck walk til the foliage got thick enough for us to stand up and move quicker. This was of course providing there were no zombies wandering around in there. Usually there weren't but why take chances. I was able to now take my sword out and holster my weapon. She glanced at the katana in my hand and nodded in approval. Holding a finger to her lips she signaled that I was to go first in our break for the woods. I nodded not arguing.

Taking a quick peek towards the back of the building, I saw our angle of escape would put us in view of the three zombies that were still milling around there, not to mention, to my dismay the back door was opening. One of the interior walkers had managed to push open the back door, now they'd eventually come pouring out. I leaned back against the car and shook my head and before I could explain she frowned at me and began to move. I reached out and grabbed her by her belt and yanked her back and leaned in close to hiss in her ear, “the building is full of zombies and the back door just opened up, if we move now they'll see us and come pouring out of there after us.” Her eyes flew open wide as obviously she thought there was only just the few zombies we had seen thus far. “How many?” she whispered back. “Too fricken many,” I answered, “maybe more than a dozen, and they're uh, pissed off”.

I held up my hand as I saw her reproach forming on her lips. “We'll argue about it later, right now we need to use the cars as cover until we get to the woods over in that spot there” pointing to a spot twenty yards away where the woods had thinned out to meet the road. She didn't look happy about having to cross more open ground than necessary but given the circumstances she nodded grimly and motioned for me to go ahead.

I adjusted the grip on my sword and held it out in front of me but keeping the tip and edge out away from my body, be pretty stupid to stumble and fall on one's blade. My pack made it somewhat awkward to keep my balance as I stooped low to the ground but moved quickly. I could hear her footsteps behind me. In about twenty steps we would reach the tree line.

I then heard her grunt and fall flat on the ground as she must've tripped on something. I kept moving until I managed to pass a low scrub brush and then spun and laid flat behind it, keeping her in view. She was laying flat and not moving. Either very smart or she was unconscious. My eyes flicked to the nearest zombie to see if she caught it's attention. She did, and it was staring in her direction but not right at her, at least not from what I could tell. Apparently the noise caught it's attention and now it was trying to catch any movement. Hopefully from it's vantage point she looked like another dead body. They were about sixty feet apart but that was still sixty feet too close. I looked at her and she had very slowly moved her head until our eyes met and then she froze. Her knife was clutched in her hand and even from my distance I could see her knuckles turning white. Her eyes were wide with fear but the fact she remained calm and motionless spoke a lot about her.

I made signing motions about the zombie and tried to let her know if it was coming to her or not. She flexed a single finger to indicate she understood, at least I interpreted it that way. My eyes went back to the zombie. It took a few shambling steps in her direction then stopped and turned towards the road on it's left. Something else caught it's attention. I didn't bother to see what it was, only keeping my eyes on the bastard and prepared myself for whatever. I took a glance at the back of the store and saw that a lot more zombies had made it outside and were making their way to the front of the store.

The single zombie still seemed to be distracted by whatever it was on the road or across from it. From my vantage point I couldn't tell what it was. I looked at the woman again and she still hadn't moved but was watching me closely. My hand was still raised palm up in a “stay there”. I didn't know how fortified this girl was and how long it would be before the tension would cause her to get up and bolt. If she got up at the wrong moment she could bring the entire group down on top of both of us.

My eyes went back to the distracted zombie, it began moving towards whatever it was it was looking at. I signaled to her that the walker was moving away from her and she lifted her finger slightly again to indicate she understood but seemed to hold her ground to wait for my signal to move.

By now there were ten of the zombies outside from the back door and they had made their way to the front of the building and were fanning out. I marked that as unusual since they usually hold in a clustered group. The distracted zombie now reached the end of the parking lot and was starting to cross the road. A moment later there was a bark of a gunshot and it's head exploded and it went down after taking another step. The other zombies turned to the gunshot and began milling about excitedly. I didn't know whether to be pissed that the zombies had been stirred up like a stick in a hornets nest or glad that the attention was being drawn away from us. A moment later another gunshot and I heard rather saw another zombie go down to the ground. Whomever was shooting was a good shot but was running a risk of the zombies finding them, but then, maybe that was the idea. I took a quick guess that this woman wasn't alone and her group was trying to save her life. I looked at her and she still watched me. I nodded but still made the motion to keep still. Hopefully she understood that it meant the zombies were definitely distracted but they were still close enough to notice her if she got up and made a run for it. Her finger lifted showing that she did. Damned if I wasn't starting to like this gal.

Since I had a few moments, I now took stock of the woman. Her hair was brunette and cut short but not like a butch cut, more like a medium straight hair, above the shoulders type. She was thin but so was nearly everyone else in these days. For my taste she was kinda cute, probably a fine looker with her face made up, as if that'll ever happen again. I shook these thoughts away as I stared at her staring back at me, probably sizing me up no doubt... great, a zombie inspired romance. I mentally shrugged, being a guy who hadn't been with a woman in quite some time, I reckon I'm going to think along those lines whether I wanted to or not. I fought down an urge to grin and chuckle.

My attention turned to the group which was now walking quickly across the road. Another gunshot and I could see another head exploding and the body falling on the road tripping at least two of them, who got up again and joined the others who shambled into a trot towards the sound of the rifle shots. I made a fist at her and nodded for her to get ready. She dared now to turn her head and look behind her. Before I could signal she got up and raced towards me in a low run that definitely spoke of military training under fire. In seconds she was lying on the ground behind the bush besides me, not even breathing hard. Again, I was impressed by this woman.

“Who-ever is shooting, they're a good shot but is bringing a world of hurt down on top of themselves just to save your ass.” I muttered to her as another shot rang out and another fast trotting zombie went down. “Actually they're very good shots” I said with a touch of admiration. For the first time she grinned, “thanks, I'll tell him you said that, I trained him,” she paused for a moment and then looked at me, “it's my kid”.

I turned my head slowly and stared at her, “you're kidding?” She kept on grinning and shook her head, “nope. But don't worry, he's in a tree stand back in the woods away where there's a clear line of sight to the store, he'll stop shooting as soon as they hit the trees and they'll go right under him without seeing him.” I nodded grimly, looking back at the walkers as they reached the tree line. “I hope so, either way he's going to be up there for a while until they move on, running a helluva risk.” She shook her head again as she turned slowly on to her side facing me, and from a thigh pocket (she was also wearing military style BDU's) she pulled out a small cheap pair of binoculars, the kind that novelty stores sell but they still good enough optics to look at things with. She stared at the tree line where the last of the walkers had worked their way in. She then handed the glasses to me and pointed in the direction she wanted me to look. “Up there in the trees along the second line, about 20 feet up, you see a clump of leaves?”

I looked where she indicated and saw what looked like a mass of leaves clustered in a tall hickory. Looked like a mess of leaves alright until I saw movement and managed to make out a particularly straight branch that could only be a rifle barrel. “He's wearing a guilly suit?” I asked. She nodded in confirmation. I pursed my lips and nodded in approval. “Well as long as they won't smell him, he should be al-” she cut me off and said “Look just below where the tree stand he's on”. I raised the glasses to my eyes again and looked where she indicated. My eyebrows went up as I spied an arm dangling below where a person in a tree-stand would normally sit. “Is that, a zombie arm?” I asked, unable to keep disbelief out of my voice. She nodded again. “Smart. So now what?” I wondered, wanting to know what she had in mind. She took a careful look around past the bush we were hiding in a slow 360 degree turn before sitting down. “We wait.”

I raised myself up to my elbow and looked at her closely for the first time. Actually she was more than just plain cute. I raised my eyebrows again “For...?” and left the question dangle. She turned serious again, never taking her eyes off the tree line where her son was hidden. “For the zombies to get far enough out of sight and hearing range for my kid to get down from the tree and over to where we are,” she paused “unless you're not going to stick around...” and left that dangling for me to finish. Before I could answer she looked at me and the sword in my hand, “by the way, just so you know, my boy has you sighted and if you even think of making a move with that sword of yours, I'll guarantee that you won't come back as a zombie either.” I grinned and didn't doubt her son's ability to make good on her threat or warning. but I didn't answer her question right away. I laid there thinking. “It'll depend” after a couple of minutes thinking of our chances together or alone.

“If the store is cleared of zombies then I'd want to get some food before moving on,” I paused and looked at her, damned if her eyes weren't her best feature. “Unless you're claiming dibs on the store, which I would have to say, I have it, because I was here since yesterday afternoon. I got trapped inside until I made it to the roof and spent the night up there. I was about to get on outta here until I bumped into you.” I touched where she pricked me with her knife. It stopped bleeding and wasn't probably nothing more than like a shaving cut. She opened her mouth to say something but I held up a finger to forestall her, “I'm not going to fight over which store belongs to whom,” if you and your boy want dibs then you can have it. I got enough in my pack to keep me for another day and I should reach another exit along the freeway before then and find another store to scavenge.

“So if you and your boy want to have dibs on the store fine, least I can do is help you make sure there are no more zombies inside. In a way you helped me out by luring most if not all of them away. Hopefully long enough for, us to get some food and clear the area.” This caused her to think for a long moment without speaking. She took another look around and then raised her arm up in the air and waved, after a moment she stood up and beckoned me to do the same. I stood up slowly and then carefully stepped away from her and re-sheathed my sword back in it's scabbard. I looked across the road to the trees and in a moment I caught a flash coming from where the boy was sitting. Mirror signaling, brilliant idea I thought. I turned to see her making a series of complex hand movements that looked vaguely familiar. I turned back to the tree line and saw two flashes.

She looked at me and caught the quizzical look on my face. “My boy is deaf” she said simply.

“Two flashes means that it's clear on the outside as far as he can see around the building.” She nodded towards the direction of the back, “we can already see that there are no more zombies out back, so the only ones we need to worry about are the ones left inside... if any.” I nodded slowly trying to take it all in. “He can't see inside the building? I'm guessing he has a scope.” She shook her head, “I'm going to take for granted that it's clear on the inside as well as far as he can see inside, but there are a lot of places to hide in a store like that.”

I nodded in agreement, “yeah especially in the back. Can't chance that all of them went out the back door. I couldn't get an accurate count of the number of zombies that were in there... or out here for that matter.” I turned towards the trees where her boy kept watch on us. “How is he going to warn us if those walkers come back or if more show up? Those gunshots wouldn't have been heard by just that group. Other zombies for at least a half mile radius would've heard those shots too.”

Her voice was full of jaunty confidence, “Yeah, which is why we should hurry up and clear the store and get what we need.” She concluded and walked towards the building. As she did so she stopped by one of the vehicles and knelt down by it and reached underneath and a moment later she stood up with a small pack in her hand and placed it on the trunk of the car. Without preamble she opened up the pack and pulled out a large bore semi-automatic pistol and expertly checked the loads before placing the gun on top of the trunk of the car and reaching into the pack again to pull out another clip and slip that into the back pocket of her BDU's before turning to face the trees across the road once more. Her hands went into a short series of fluid movements and I turned my head in time to see two flashes from the boy's signal mirror. “I'm guessing two flashes mean yes, right?” She picked up the weapon and turned and grinned. “Yep, you're learning.” She waited to see what I would do. I unholstered my gun once more and held it pointing away from her, not wanting to risk a bullet in the brain. I didn't have to check the loads and knew the safety was still on.

I glanced at the spot where her son was hidden across the road, “what about him?”

“He'll come along as soon as the last zombie is gone. Trust me, I ... taught him well.” There was a note of motherly pride of course in her voice but something else as well, that little pause after referring to herself. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, to calm myself as I turned my focus on to the task ahead of us. If we were lucky there'd be only one or two zombies left in the store to deal with. The amount of food that I saw that was available in the store would be more than enough for the three of us. Presumably it was just the woman and her son. I guess, I'd find out one way or another sooner than later.

“Ladies first or shall I?” I asked pointing with my free hand to the store. She motioned with her hand in a graceful movement that was too clear to misunderstand. “He'll probably feel better if you went first, so you won't try to shoot me in the back. He's not paranoid, just watchful over his momma.” I couldn't help but give a derisive snort and made it a point to take two steps sideways before walking towards the store and keeping my gun pointed at the ground away from her. Once past her I held the gun in both hands and clicked off the safety and moved cautiously towards the front door. She was two steps behind me likewise holding her gun at the ready, as if she'd been doing it all her life.

Part 5 Back Into The Frying Pan - Revised

As I reached the corner of the front of the building I stopped and thumbed the hammer of my pistol, engaging it. There was a muffled click behind me as I heard the woman do the same for hers. I inched towards the first window and moved until I could peer inside. From that point I couldn't really see enough, so I moved a little more but lowering my body down so it'd be hidden partially by the display that was piled against the window. I moved a little at a time, still not wholly confident that all the zombies had left the building. As I reached the front door, I took a quick peek before moving back. Yep, at least one was still milling around near the rear of the store by the beer cooler displays, I noted the dead girl zombie that I killed along with another one lying on the floor a couple of feet beyond her. I turned and signaled to her that we had company, meaning the one that was still up and about. She knelt down besides me and whispered. “Just one?” I shrugged, “ far as I can see” and began holstering my weapon after releasing the hammer and clicking the safety back on it, and gotten my sword out of my sheath.

“Just shoot it!” she whispered. I shook my head. “We still don't know how many more there are inside. It's just the two of us. Your boy can only see so far and with the glass, he might hit one of us.” When I saw the exasperated look on her face, my stomach tightened. She stood up and walked deliberately to the door, opened it and I stood and watched her through the window as she leveled her arm up and began walking towards the zombie shambling around in rear of the store. It hadn't noticed her yet but it didn't matter. There was a flash and a muffled pop as she blew the thing's head apart with a single shot. As I watched she spun on her axis and held the gun towards the doorway leading to the rear of the store and held her ground. Sure enough another zombie came out and turned to her and I saw the snarl on it's face forming before it disappeared in a greyish-red mist. I watched her and she stood there holding her ground. The barrel of the gun never wavering from where the second one came out. Nothing moved for a long moment from inside, but she held firm. Something inside me told me it was my turn to get in the store. I walked to the door and saw her turn and level the gun at me for a moment before she pivoted back to the open doorway. I was going to sheath my sword again and re-draw my pistol before feeling kind of foolish, like I couldn't make up my mind which weapon to use.

I opened the door and stepped inside. I saw out of the corner of my eye that she acknowledge my presence with a quick nod and focused again on the open door way. I held my sword at the ready and moved towards the back. Just then something moved to my left and without thinking I spun and swung my sword hard and caught the zombie that was behind the counter alongside it's head. It grunted and then began to drop, threatening to take my sword with it. I had to twist and pull the blade out before it was yanked out of my hand, and in doing so knocked over a lighter display making a racket. I turned sheepishly to her and caught her grin before she lost it and fired her weapon once more. I turned to the open door way and watched as another zombie went down behind the counter with it's brain and skull pieces splattering on the wall behind it. That made for three so far. Hopefully that was all.

I thought it odd that these two were ducked down behind the counter. Then I recalled that I never did get around to checking it during my initial sweep of the store yesterday. I stepped over one of the dead zombies that she shot, and went into the open door way as soon as I reached it and looked down the corridor. It was empty. Behind me the back door was partially opened. I moved over to it and pulled it shut. I could hear the woman moving through the store towards where I was. I waited til she arrived. Her gun was now pointed at the floor but she still held it in both hands at the ready. “Nice shootin Tex” I muttered with an exaggerated drawl, and began working my way back to the beer-cooler. I doubt that any of the zombies had managed to get inside there, but I was guessing there was still one more living occupant still looking for a way out.

I held the sword out back behind me, looked at the woman who stood where she was and was looking at me then glancing out the front windows before looking at me again. She gave a nod. I opened the cooler door wide and took a step back. Sure enough the clerk was still inside, untouched.

As I made to step inside the cooler my eyes caught a quick movement and I stepped aside. The cat zipped past me, startling the woman and she nearly shot it before recognizing what it was.

The cat saw her and slid to a halt. It's ears flattened on it's head now realizing that it was trapped between two humans, it's body hugged the floor and tried to keep watch on both of us at the same time. I ignored it and went into the cooler to see if anything was worth salvaging. Now I felt confident that the store was empty. From inside the cooler I could hear the woman, talking to the cat. Good luck with that I thought to myself, damned thing is likely feral and is going to scratch the crap out of her. A mean thought, I'm sure but I was still wrestling with some feelings I had about her. Wasn't quite sure what to make of all of them and where they were headed. I ignored the turmoil for the time being and focused on clearing the store.

Inside the cooler along one wall there were cases of beer that had been knocked over, most of the cardboard boxes had softened enough that cans were scattered across the floor. There were also a few stacks of 2 liter bottles of soda, sitting in their plastic shipping containers. Against another wall was a tall stack of gallon milk bottles. Too bad, those were surely gone over and turned to curd by now. Opening one of those would be like cutting open a zombie's gut. I sheathed my sword finally and bent to grab a couple of two liter bottles of Sprite and tucked them under my arm. With my free-hand I gotten a six-pack of Milwaukee's Best that was still in one piece. Wasn't my first choice but beggars ain't going to be choosers, besides they were the only ones that were still together in their plastic ring-binders. I made my way back out of the cooler. In the corridor the woman was holding the cat and petting it making soothing sounds. “Hmph!” I snorted and got her attention, “I was betting it was going to scratch your eyes out.” She grinned and shrugged, “guess I got a way with animals”.

“Yeah, I reckon” I stated as I stepped past her holding my loot and moved out into the store. From the front windows I saw someone moving towards the store and nearly dropped my drinks. “Hey!” I called back sharply, “get your ass out here!” I heard a thump as she obviously dropped the cat and moved quickly to the interior of the store with her weapon held at the ready. As soon as she reached me she too looked out the windows and after a moment, lowered and holstered her gun. “That's my kid, it means that the walkers are long gone.”

“How does he know that for sure?” I asked hesitantly. She turned and began her own scavenging, “because we've done this a few times and it's gotten pretty routine.” Her voice was calm, almost casual as she began plucking items off the shelves or the floor, examining them and putting them back on the shelf or dropping them back on the floor and moving on down the aisle. I put my drinks on the counter and watched the boy walk his way over to us. He had what appeared to be a high-powered rifle strapped to his back, the stock of the weapon nearly touched the ground as the barrel towered over his head. He wore this over what looked like an overly large guilly suit. The hood of the suit was thrown back and he wore a black ball cap with some logo that I couldn't make out at first. His clothing was hidden underneath the fabric and camouflage of the guilly.

He had a pack in one hand and a piece of folded metal in the other that could've only been the tree-stand he was using, To my shock, I realized that he couldn't have been no more than 15 years old. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Are you kidding me? That's your kid? This is who blew those zombie's heads off. The gun is bigger than him!”

The woman turned and smiled proudly at her son as he reached the parking lot and stepped over the bodies of the walkers that he shot earlier. She stood quietly watching him, then resumed her scavenging, I stood there, watching him get closer. I saw immediately that he didn't take his eyes off of me except to glance quickly left and right and a quick peek over his shoulder. This kid was trained very well I could see. What else I could see was a dark look in his eyes as he threaded his way past the gas pumps and made his way to the front door. I didn't like the look in his eyes as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Immediately he shook his weapon off his shoulder and moved it to where he pointed the barrel at my gut. There was a click as he removed the safety off. The barrel never wavered. “You almost got my mom killed” he challenged. His voice was strong, but the pronunciation was a bit off. As if he was speaking from inside his head instead of his throat at how the words should sound. I didn't move and waited. In a moment the woman moved to us and faced her son but keeping out of the way of the barrel which was still disconcertingly pointed at my gut. Her hands moved rapidly and I watched the boy's eyes flick to her and then back at me. In his eyes I could see a mental struggle that I didn't like at all, but I still didn't move a muscle and trusted the woman to disarm him, hoping that she wasn't telling him to kill me later. The barrel of the gun lowered and pointed at the floor and the boy shifted the weapon to a crook in his arm and he signed back to his mother.

She shook her head vehemently and signed again, her movements were brisk and there was a tension in her shoulders that I could make out as she “spoke” to him. After a moment, I heard another distinct click as he thumbed the safety and set the butt of the rifle on the floor and leaned it against the counter. He locked his eyes with mine and then spat out a word.

“Athsshole”.

He put his pack on the floor by the gun and began removing the guilly suit and let it fall to a heap on the floor beside the pack, then moved to the door way and stood there looking out with his back turned to us. I could now see that he was heavily armed. A large knife in a belt sheath at his side, and tied at the bottom around his leg on his left. On his right hip an semi-automatic pistol that looked like a glock, the squared edges of the pistol that made the gun unique in the shooting world, resting in a hard cased holster. His fingers unsnapped the strap that held the gun in place. He moved his head in a slow turn left and right watching the parking lot, temporarily ignoring me.

His mother turned to me and had that apologetic look of parents whose children had embarrassed them and without a word she turned back to scavenging. I held my ground for a moment before letting out the breath of air that I didn't realize that I was holding and slowly turned. Lucky I did, as the zombie that was reaching out towards the woman was only a step away from her. Without thinking I drew my sword and held it high over my head before striking down and splitting the skull through. She turned with her pistol in her hand, eyes wide as she watched the front part of the walker's skull slide off and thump to the floor with a gristly thud, followed by the body. This had been the other zombie I spotted on the floor. I gave myself a mental kick for not checking to see if it was dead. Apparently it was a sleeper. But I was bothered that it didn't rise from the sound of the woman shooting the others. Something wasn't right about that at all.

I bent and wiped my blade against the dead-walker's clothes before putting it back in the sheath. I looked at the woman who still stared at the body and then looked at the boy who was staring at me with equally wide eyes, definitely his mother's eyes as they were just as blue as hers. His pistol was in his hands and pointed at me for a moment before lowering it. I was lucky that he didn't blast my head off. Well trained indeed. It was then I decided to stay with this odd couple, if they would have me, and I could learn a bit more about them. I felt myself intrigued.

Normally, I'd get whatever I wanted and move on, leaving others to fend for themselves. Sometimes I'd hook up with a group, if they were small enough and slum with them for a day or two before moving on.

Large groups tended to be complicated and had more of a paranoia factor involved along with a understandable tendency to be greedy with the supplies at hand. Smaller groups gave me the idea that they were under the impression that the whole world was available to them and that supplies could be had, just as we were doing now, without cutting into another's share. The largest group I hung out with had about a dozen or so with a leader who exhibited a sort of mix between messiah and dictator. I was with them for a day and a half before slipping away in the night and putting some miles between me and them, before resting for the night. They just didn't lend an air of confidence that I would be comfortable with them, nor they with me.

As I scavenged some dented cans of chili, checking for leaks or other signs of possible contamination, I caught the woman staring at me. I stopped what I was doing and turned to her. “What?” I asked trying to keep my tone from being defensive. She pointed at my back with a grin. “That pack doesn't seem to come off of you very often does it?” I shrugged my shoulders and felt it's comforting weight. “This pack and I have a good history together, saved my life more than once, I don't have to worry about amscraying suddenly and leaving it behind accidentally.” I explained. Her eyebrows went up in a “ohh-kay” gesture and she resumed her hunt for food. Every now and again she would pick out an item and walk it over to a shelf and set it alongside others that she had put there, creating a small cache. I noted that her eyes also glanced out the windows to scan the outside. I didn't get the impression that she didn't trust her son but as the adage goes, two are always better than one.

In about 15 minutes we had gotten everything that we were going to find and set about packing the supplies in our respective packs. I spied the cat walking calmly past me and remembered my promise to myself. I moved over to where the pet supplies were and found two un-opened or torn bags of dried cat food.

I picked one of them up and unceremoniously tore it open along the top and poured the contents out on the floor in a untidy heap, then did the same with the second. Turning back to the shelf I saw a stack of canned cat food with pull tab tops, thought about it for a moment then shrugged to myself. The little bastard earned it. As I popped open a can and shook the contents out on top of the dried cat food pile the woman stepped around the aisle and watched me.

“Animal lover?” she asked. I shook my head. “Not necessarily,” I began as I opened a second can and began dumping the contents on top of the pile. The cat made an appearance from the back of the store, and hugged the wall as it came over to the pile of food that I was creating and began tentatively eating the bits that were scattered here and there. I nodded to the animal “but that little bastard saved my life twice yesterday so I owe him... or her”. I stood up and saw her smiling at me. “What?” I asked her again this time I was being defensive.

She shrugged non-committed and sighed, “nice to see someone with a sense of obligation these days.” There was a look in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. Attraction. I smiled back and was about to reply when her son's voice called out to her (not to us) from the front. “Mom, dead people.” The smiles vanished from both our faces and we moved to where our packs were and picked them up. The boy did an admirable job of watching the outside and keeping an eye on his mom as she made a single sign to her son. He pointed to something out in the distance beyond our sight-line and began backing away from the door and to where his stuff was along the counter. With my pack on my back I hustled on over to the counter and worked my way behind it, stepping over the dead walker and grabbed a few packs of cigarettes and stuffed them down inside a thigh pocket of my BDU's, and got out of the counter and headed to the back door, drawing my gun.

“Time to git” I said and stood by the door waiting for them. The boy had his guilly suit folded and draped over his shoulder and the rifle slung across his back and carried his now stuffed pack in one hand and his pistol in the other. The woman shouldered her pack and had her gun in hand. Cautiously, I opened the back door part of the way and counted to three before opening it wider and stepping outside and pointing my gun behind it. There was nothing waiting behind it. With my free hand I signaled to the two inside and they stepped out taking up positions on either side of me. “Do you have a camp?” I asked the woman.

She lifted her arm to point towards the woods behind the store and her son spoke harshly, “Mom!” and shook his head. She held up her hand and did a neat trick with her fingers that got him to look at me with a resentful warning stare. The boy took off towards the woods where she pointed. “He doesn't want you to come with us.” She explained. I nodded, “well then, I'll leave it up to you. I was actually kinda hoping to hook up with you for a day or so, to uh...” I paused at the grin on her face, “to find out more about what you know of this area and where you're headed. If it's where I'm going then, well...” suddenly I felt uncomfortable and shy and cursed myself for it. Her eyes were getting to me. “I've found that temporary hook-ups can be mutually -- beneficial” and I cursed myself again because I couldn't keep the innuendo out of it.” She seemed to chuckle to herself, “well,” she began almost flirtatiously, “we'll see”. Then without another word followed after her son. I shook my head and muttered to myself, “why the hell did she have to be so cute?” then followed her into the woods.