Timothy Long - Beyond the Barriers

“Morning, sunshine,” I said and kissed her lips. She was warm to my touch, as I pushed some hair out of her face then took her hand in mine.

“Hi.”

Her shoulder was bare where the wound was covered in fresh, clean gauze. I had to wonder how long their supply of bandages would last. It couldn’t be easy to have a tiny village like this without renewable supplies. I should feel grateful to them, but I felt anything but. They were in my way. I wanted to get to Portland, join the fight and make a difference. I didn’t want to sit around, bored out of my skull, after already experiencing four months of that.

They didn’t even care to move. They were happy to wait for something to happen or stay until they were overrun. The mob we saw when we left the Walmart had been huge. If a similar army of shambling dead came at this position, they wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever, unless they had a massive supply of ammunition. Were the ghouls willing to sacrifice enough of their army for a few live bodies to feast on?

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m on morphine. I feel a bit lost, and my body is warm, but I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I don’t see you as the romantic type. You’re more of an action girl.”

“I wasn’t always like this. I used to be a mom and a wife, and I was happy. I don’t like what I’ve become. I want to go back to the old way, but I guess that isn’t ever going to happen.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I leaned in to kiss her warm lips. I liked her candor and her toughness. I liked how she could turn into a sexy woman when she wanted to, and how she could tell me what she wanted and how she wanted it.

I was on safe ground with her, which made me content.

Another shot rang out. A hunting rifle, this time, was my guess. Then another, and I was itching to get outside.

“I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Don’t forget me.” She squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Erik, for everything. I don’t think I ever told you that, and I meant to.”

I had the urge to hug her, but her recovering body probably would not take too kindly to it. After planting another kiss on her forehead, I left the room.

In the living room, I saw a pair of people I didn’t know leaning over a map. They looked up as I entered. The man nodded, and the woman, an older gal who had a matronly look, eyed me up and down.

“Bathroom?”

The man pointed toward the other end of the hall.

“In there. If it’s too full, use the bucket on the side to pour just enough water in until it flushes, then stop.”

It stood to reason that simple things like water were hard to come by, and there would be the constant need to get more. In the cabin, we had an outhouse in the back that was a simple hole in the ground. I wondered if anyone had thought to make one here. Probably easier to just dig a big hole and piss off the side.

After taking care of business in the dark, trying to ignore the stench, I left the small room and went outside. The sun was high, and if I had to guess at the time, I would have judged it just before noon. I hadn’t worn a watch in months. What was the point? I didn’t have to go to work—no appointments. I didn’t have to worry about what time to watch shows on TV, when to cook, or when to wake up. Our brave new world had precipitated a lack of technology, and in some ways, this pleased me. I would have liked about a half hour a day on the Internet, but even that need was fading with time.

The circle of cars and trucks made quite the impressive barrier. They were parked so close together that the only way into most of them was through the rear window or trunk. A group of large SUVs created a sort of gate. A couple had open hatches, and I was betting they were the getaway plan.

One of the bigger trucks, an enormous vehicle that looked like something one would see at a monster rally, was idling. Wires ran out of the hood to a box, which in turn was connected to a bunch of car batteries. So that was how they got portable energy. Just charge the batteries every day, and with enough jury-rigging, I supposed you could run a light for a few hours with a DC convertor.

On top of the truck was a man in the same type of jumpsuit the others wore. He had a rifle pressed to his shoulder and was lying prone, watching the entryway to the neighborhood with a pair of binoculars. I stared down the road and saw a body in the street. It was too far away to make out many details.

A large hand clapped my shoulder, and it was hard not to reach up, clamp my hand around it, then turn and put its owner in a shoulder lock. Living away from people had made me an edgy fucker. I looked over my shoulder into the grinning eyes of Scott. He had on a camouflage cap like hunters wear, but the same jumpsuit and scarf from the night before.

“Hey man. Up at last?”

“Barely. I feel like I slept in a wooden chair all night. Oh yeah, I did.”

“We got beds. Just ask next time.”

“Next time I won’t be dead on my feet, and I will.”

“Don’t say dead on your feet around some of these guys. They’re likely to take your head off with a Louisville Slugger.”

I smiled at his grim humor.

I saw my car out beyond the barricades. “Should I bring that in?”

“Unless you’re leaving. We weren’t sure. Nice work turning a Honda into a tank. Some of the guys were checking it out earlier. That turret is great. Too bad it doesn’t have a weapon mounted in it through a big hole. That would be badass.”

“You don’t care if we leave?”

“Why would we?”

“I don’t know. You guys have a nice fiefdom set up here. I figured you would have a big recruiting speech for newcomers. Put the love of Jesus in us.” Something about Scott brought out the ex-military in me—the camaraderie, the way we spoke to each other.

“Shit, man, you can come and go. We aren’t some outfit that makes people drink the Kool-Aid. We have enough problems as it is. Besides, if someone wants to stay, they have to show that they are useful. Are you useful?”

That was a good question. I could strip and clean guns, I knew military tactics, and I was good at hand to hand combat, but having been out of the mix for four months meant I missed a lot of the action while I was stuck up in the cabin. The men and women around were much better zombie slayers than I was.

“I don’t know. I can fight, and I can teach people how to grab zombies behind the ears and drive their knees into their rotted faces.”

Another shot called out like a cannon blast, and I couldn’t help but jump, but so did Scott. We looked at each other and grinned.

“Target practice.” He pointed at the guy with the hunting rifle plastered to his chest on top of the truck. “The stupid things must be able to smell us. A few wander by every day, so we take them out. No sense in letting a bunch of dead fucks loose.”

“Ever see any of the guys with green eyes?”

“Nah, they’re too smart. They come out at night, and only when they have an army behind them. But we have a lot of firepower, and we’re well protected, so they stay away.” He sounded convinced of this. After what I saw in town, I wasn’t so sure.

“How many other communities are set up like this?”

“A few. We know where they are, and we trade stuff sometimes, but we remain autonomous. There isn’t a lot of mixing. Maybe it’s a trust issue. You’d think at the end of the world people would start trusting each other again.”

I nodded. The kid was doing pretty well with the gun, but he was jerking the barrel up with each shot. I watched and wondered how much ammo they had to spare that they could do target practice.

“You set for ammo?”

“We have enough for now, but it won’t last forever. We got a guy who keeps track of all the rounds. He could tell you more. Why?”