Timothy Long - Beyond the Barriers

First, I had to take care of something. I was tired of being on the run, fighting for my life. I was going to bring to the dead what they had brought to so many of us. I was going to put an end to every one I could find, and then I was going to burn them from the face of the earth, if it was the last thing I did.

I rose, my legs popping as I groaned. Lack of potassium was making me weak; my body was trying to keep up with the torture, but it was hard pressed. There were more protein bars, and it would have to do. At least they would fill the void in my gut.

How many boxes of Cliff bars were left in the entire world? With the U.S. overrun by the dead, how long did it take for the factories to shut down, for the grain and supplies to stop flowing? How many cargo ships sat off the coast and waited for something to change?

I wished I had a cup of coffee—a big twenty-ouncer that I could nurse until it was the perfect temperature then guzzle for the caffeine hit. I found the next best thing in some energy drinks that were stashed with the rest of the supplies.

I ate a dried-out protein bar and washed it back with a pair of Red Bulls. They were the sugar-free kind that left a weird aftertaste in my mouth, but the chemicals, herbs, and heavy caffeine hit me like a brick, leaving me buzzed before the first one was gone. The second one was just gravy.

After pulling stuff out of boxes, I sorted and categorized. There was an arsenal here, and I planned to use it all. Guns, bullets, grenades, even some empty glass bottles that would make great Molotovs. Fill a bottle with fuel, stick a piece of cloth in, light it, and watch the Z’s crackle, pop and burn. Bye bye, bastards.

“Why do you have to start that shit so early?” Scott mumbled. He slid beside me and took in the food and drink. I could tell he was in just as much pain as I was.

“‘Bout time you got up, princess. I was about to send a toad to wake your ass up.”

“Am I the toad?” Jack sat up in the back of the truck and rubbed his eyes.

I looked between the two, looked closely at their eyes, and felt sorry for doing it. They weren’t changing into ghouls. These were my friends, and I would protect them from any harm. They would never eat of the dead, nor would I. I would die of starvation first.

“You’re something, but I don’t know if I would go with toad,” Scott said.

“Good to know I’m loved.”

“Yeah, those things out there would love to munch on you.” Scott chuckled.

We ate a few more protein bars and compared the taste and texture to sawdust, then discussed the merits of a few beers with breakfast while we sorted the gear.

I found a jacket in one bin that was a little worn and a bit tight over my frame, but I was able to slip into it. The thing had an impressive number of hooks and pockets; I would be able to hang all manner of gear on it.

Scott dug around in the glove box and came out with an old manual for the machine gun mounted on top of the beat-up Hummer. He started going over the device, and even fed some bullets into it from a large ammo box.

“Want me to shoot?” I asked?

He smirked at me and shook his head. “No fucking way, partner. I’m going to be all over this thing when we bring it.”

When we bring it, eh? I was planning to ask them to stay here while I went, but from their faces, I could tell that was a mistake. There was no way they would wait here while I waltzed off with our only transport and a will to die for my new cause.

I checked the perimeter next, something I should have done to begin with but didn’t have the energy for. It would probably serve us right if we were ambushed.

The farm was a few hundred feet off the main drag, so I doubted we would be disturbed. I checked as much of the place as I could, and even went to the wide-open front gate to check for footprints, but the only fresh signs I saw were the marks from the truck.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance. It sounded big, like a lab or German Shepherd. Birds were making a cacophony in the woods. With so many humans gone, it was no wonder they were returning and probably multiplying like flies.

I walked back to the slaughterhouse and noticed an old well to the side. It was partially covered with a fallen tree about sixteen feet tall. Looked like a small maple to me, but the leaves were all dried and blown away. Pushing the husk aside, I checked the pump. It was old, and there was a block on it—a piece of metal that slid into a latch. With a screech I pulled it out, and the handle moved. There was a tap that was covered, but I couldn’t move it. I went and found a rock and hammered it a few times until it came loose. Take that, primate ancestors.

I worked the pump for a minute before yellowish water came out. The wind was picking up and blew some of it on me. I backed up, but there was no smell of rot, just rust. I went to the other side and pumped until the water ran clear, then I did my best to rinse my hands clean.

On the tip of my tongue, I tasted a bit, and it was as sweet as honeydew. Scott stared at me from inside the slaughterhouse, and I gestured for him to come over. He tasted it, whooped, and then drank some. We took turns sipping the water until Jack came out.

“Well you are just full of surprises, Erik.” He grinned at me.

“I just fired it up. I didn’t dig the thing.”

“You’re still my hero.”

Jack didn’t stand on ceremony. He walked around until he found a bucket and dumped out whatever the hell was in it before. After he rinsed it out a few times, he stripped out of his clothes. Scott and I looked at each other, and his eyebrow quirked up at the corner as the larger man dropped his drawers.

In the chilly morning air, he filled the bucket with water then dumped it over his head, while we pretended to look at everything but his unabashed nakedness. Not that I had a problem with the human form; it was just weird. He shivered, howled at the cold, and did it again.

“God damn, I’m alive.”

After he went back inside to get dressed, I shrugged at Scott and did the same thing. The water stung like an electric shock, but I felt almost reborn after the icy cold washed away my fear of the day to come.

We left an hour later, somewhat clean and more or less refreshed. I had a full stomach, and the energy drinks were doing their best to eat away the lining of my stomach, but I was more buzzed on caffeine than I had been since the cabin. The morning air had burned off to reveal a warm Oregon day. Clouds pulled back, and the sun roared down like an angry god.

“Any idea how to get there?” Scott asked from behind the wheel. He’d driven yesterday, and when we got in the vehicle, he jumped in the driver’s seat like he was made for it.

“We head back the way we came. The turnoff was about three miles down the road. I remember a big burned-up husk of a crew cab on the side of the street. Then we visit Haley and find our way to the camp.”

Scott was silent when I mentioned her name. Had he become as close to her in the cage as I had? I felt an odd sense of loyalty to her memory, even though I had only known her for a day or two. I had thought of her as a kid sister. Someone I would have been happy to listen to when she was troubled at school, but she was gone.

“Do you think he was right?” Scott asked.

“Doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have done it. Asshole.” Jack leaned forward.

“I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

“Maybe, but he is one of us. Good or bad, he’s still human,” Jack said.

“Bad, man. That was the same guy that dragged a family out of their home because they wouldn’t join his cause. We had enough whack-jobs in the day. We shouldn’t let them run around like that.”