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.
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.
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.
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