Joseph Talluto - White Flag of the Dead

Martin came up with the best idea. “Why don’t we drop containers on them? The fork truck can easily lift containers over the gate and we can crush them flat.”

Brilliant. He went to work and managed to grab a container lengthwise and hold it over the teeming masses. We had a moment when we realized we couldn’t just drop the containers. But Martin remedied that too, when he tipped the forks forward and the container slid off, crushing about twenty of them. Gross fluids squirted out from under the box. Martin went back for another container and repeated the procedure. The zombies had no idea what was happening, and just stood there to be crushed. There were about ten of them left that we couldn’t reach, so I grabbed a length of pipe and rode the fork truck over the gate and onto the containers.

They were a little lopsided from the goo underneath, but I could still work. The ghouls reached for me and clawed at the top of the container. They couldn’t get a grip, and those that did had no strength to pull themselves up. Perfect. I hefted my pipe and went to work. It was kind of like being at the driving range, in a way.

Martin hauled me back over and we opened up the gate. There was still movement under the containers, and Martin used the fork truck to push down on the containers. He was getting pretty good with that thing. I swear I could hear popping like bubble wrap, and I didn’t want to know what it was. Martin pushed the containers out of the way, and blocked the road to the south. Greasy goo and body parts covered the driveway, and I was reluctant to drive over that mess time and again. Realizing the necessity, I poured gas into a container and covered the infectious mass.

Martin and I checked weapons and gear while the zombies fried. When the fires died completely, we got into the vehicles and headed back to the interstate, remembering to lock the gate behind us. We certainly were going to be back. This first container was the first step in securing our new home, and I was happy to get it there.

As I drove toward the exit, I realized we had no way to get it off the truck. Oh well, we’ll think of something. We always do.

Even though we had a lot of trips to make, every one would make us more secure. I smiled to myself as the plan started to come together. Next step was moving to the new place, and setting up a second sanctuary. Things were looking good, and I worried more than ever. When things looked good, that was usually when the zombies came and bit your face off.

It took the best part of four weeks, but we managed to move enough cargo containers to completely encircle the condo complex, the water supply, and the empty acres to the north. I had insisted that one container be placed on its end every ten lengths, to give us a lookout tower. Martin and I spent long hours ferrying cargo containers, and when we managed to get two more trucks running, the process speeded up considerably. As an afterthought, I grabbed the welding supplies from the maintenance shack at the depot, and one of our survivors managed to turn the towers into covered shacks. I thought that was pretty nifty. On one of the return trips, Martin had a burst of inspiration and made a side trip to a boat storage facility. I thought he was nuts until I saw he had managed to secure another big fork truck to help with placing the containers.

The new fence had a profound effect on the community. People spent long hours outside, and our kids ran freely in the sunshine for the first time in months. It was gratifying to see smiling, running children in the midst of this messed up world. It didn’t matter that it was getting cold, the kids still played and ran. For the first time in a long time, people could let their guard down, if just a little bit. Even Jakey perked up by being outside, and for a kid that was perpetually in a good mood, that was something.

People were immediately grateful for the change in living arrangements. We had enough condominiums for everyone to have their own, and the privacy this afforded had a positive effect as well. It was a small return to normalcy that two weeks ago would not have been considered possible.

We still had the occasional zombie wandering around, and they were dealt with pretty quickly. Our barrier was put to the test when a large group of about thirty of them showed up and began attacking the fence. They managed to move a container a few inches before they were stopped, so we decided to add weld points to the containers to prevent that from happening again.

In all, we had a good thing going at this point and were pretty well set up for the winter. All of the condos had fireplaces, so warmth was not going to be an issue. Nate had a group getting firewood from one of those nearby garden centers that had piled it up before the Upheaval, and they were bringing it back by the truckload.

With things pretty well set up, it was time for me to move on to the next part of the plan, which was to set up another safe zone. Nate was going to be left in charge here, and his goal was to expand the fence as much as he could as often as he could. The idea was to cover as much of an area as possible, taking back as much as possible, utilizing natural terrain and land features whenever possible to secure the safe zone. We needed to be self-sustaining for a while, since the zombie’s rate of decay seemed to be up to the individual, we had no choice but to wait a bit. But I was anxious to see about other communities and survivors, and I needed to get going if we were going to have a chance at surviving the winter.

I had had a meeting a few days before, outlining the plan and asking if anyone was willing to come with Jake and myself. I certainly couldn’t force anyone, and it was going to be difficult for anyone to leave the relative safety of the new community, but I had to ask.

To my surprise, Sarah agreed to go, along with Charlie and Tommy. Tommy said he would get lonely without me, and Charlie said someone had to watch my dumb ass. Duncan certainly was not going to get left behind without Tommy, and I was secretly glad the three of us were hitting the road again.

Jason Coleman and his wife Lisa agreed to come with us, and to everyone’s surprise, Kristen Larkin wanted to come with, and her friend Chelsea Forbes wanted to go as well. I could understand it. When the condos were doled out, the girls in the little dorm room had been ‘adopted’ into other families, and I think these two were having the hardest time adjusting. No trouble to me, the more the merrier. I figured Sarah could look after the girls, and they would be well taken care of.

We spent three days getting ready for the trip, and I was vague as to the details of the location. I knew where I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up in case the place turned out to be a bust. If it was, I had a small backup plan, but that was for worst-case scenario.

We decided to take cars for the trip north, as the cold weather did not make taking bicycles a possibility. We had a lot of bikes, and used them frequently on foraging trips to the nearby homes, but no one wants to take a bike trip in snow. I was driving a small Honda CR-V, with Charlie riding shotgun and Kristen in the back seat with Jakey. Tommy and Duncan were in the next vehicle, a Jeep Cherokee, along with Jason and Lisa. Sarah and Chelsea brought up the rear in a Ford F150, with all of our clothes and personal stuff. Our weapons we carried with us, and we drove in full gear. We couldn’t take the chance of not being armed. In a perfect, uninfected world, this trip would take us thirty minutes, depending on traffic. Today, I had no idea what I was going to hit, so I needed to be ready.

Nate caught up to me about an hour before we were supposed to leave. It was a cloudy day, with a brisk wind out of the West. The trees were devoid of leaves, and the ground was that light green color with a lot of yellow mixed in, letting you know that the world was going into hibernation. There were still some people out and about, and I could see two of the towers were manned. The fence was the only indication anything still was wrong with the world, its patchwork of colors and corrugated steel interrupting the landscape.