Archive for April, 2016

Harry stepped through the front window of the sales offices. Glass crunched underfoot. He could hear excited whispers toward the back hall of the sales office part of the building. He glanced at the teller’s window and immediately saw the infected man was no longer trapped behind the glass.

“Shit!” Harry whispered. “John?”

“Back here. We got a problem. Come on back.” John answered.

Harry followed the sound of John’s voice into the dark recesses of the dealership building. When he got to the breakroom, he saw John standing over two bodies. One was the decaying man from the teller’s booth. The other was a stranger still moaning and writhing in pain. Squatting next to the dying man were two children. The man and both kids were malnourished and covered in grime. The taller of the two soon-to-be orphans looked to be a boy around fifteen while the younger was definitely preteen but too dirty to tell if it was a girl or boy.

“What the fuck is going on, here?” Harry demanded.

“They came in looking for food. When they didn’t find anything they tried to get the stuff in the booth. I got here in time to kill the infected, but not before he took a chunk outta the guy laying there.” John answered.

“Fuck!” Harry cursed.

The man on the floor waved his arm to move the children from his side. He pushed himself up and looked at both John and Harry. “Please, don’t hurt my kids.”

“No intentions of hurting your kids. What are you folks doing here?” Harry asked.

“Looking for food. What do you think, asshole?” The boy answered with a snarl.

The man grabbed his son’s leg. “Hush boy. Ain’t these men’s fault I got bit. It was mine.” He looked to Harry. “I’m Ben Green, this is by kids, Cody and Grace.”

“I’m Harry Walters, and this ugly old coot is John Tilman. I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, but like this. Well….”

“I know what’s gonna happen.” Jack answered. “Please. You gotta take the kids and get outta here. We’ve been running from a gang that found us two days ago. If they come here, they’ll kill you all.”

“Then we move out.” Harry responded.

“Take my kids.” Ben pleaded. “Please. Just leave me and take my kids. You’ve gotta hurry.”

“We’ll go, but we’re taking all of you. Come on John.” Harry stepped to Ben’s side and grabbed under Ben’s arm. John followed suite. “Let’s move out.

Ben tried to pull away, but Harry and John only pulled him forward.

“I’m gonna turn.”  Ben protested.

Harry whispered at him. “Might be, but I won’t have your kids fighting us to stay with you.  We need to move out and be quiet about it.”

Ben relented and allowed himself to be carried through the hall toward the broken window. They stepped out into the dawning light to the sound of motors in the distance.

Harry turned around and called back when the kids hesitated. “Let’s go, you two. We have to get outta here.”

Ben called back. “Listen to what they say, from now on.”

Both Cody and Trace picked up the pace and followed close behind. The sound of the vehicles approaching grew louder.

“They’re coming!” Ben warned. “Leave me. Run!”

Harry waved an arm and suddenly the camper at the back of the lot roared to life. “Keep moving!”

Liz cranked the engine and slammed the camper in gear at the sight of Harry’s wave. He and John were carrying a man while two children were following close behind. She pulled out of the parking spaced turning toward the fence, slammed on the breaks then slipped the gear shift into reverse. She stepped on the gas and the camper began rolling backwards toward the Harry and John. She accelerated until the camper began weaving, she slowed enough to guide the vehicle toward the men.

The two men pulled Ben to the side of the drive and called the kids to them. Liz stopped in front of the group, slammed the shift into park. John jerked open the door. He let Harry step inside then pushed Ben and the kids in behind him.

“Hit the gas and go through the fence. Take the ditch at an angle. Wait ten minute down the road half a mile. If I don’t make it by then, leave without me.”

Liz opened her mouth to protest, but John scowled. “Got it. Don’t be late old man!”

John ran to a blue camper, used a key to open a door and climb inside. He cranked the engine and revved the engine, waiting.

Liz stepped on the gas and aimed the camper between the posts where the fence sagged. Harry dropped Ben at the table and pointed the kids toward the opposite side. He threw a towel at Ben. “Stop the bleeding, sit down, and shut up until we get outa this mess you brought to our door step.” He growled.

Harry flopped into the passenger seat and belted in. He pointed toward the back of the property. “Ease up on the gas right before you hit the fence. It’ll knock the support off the top of the post. Angle to the left crossing the easement and hopefully, there won’t be water in the ditch and we get stuck. When you get up on the road, go left.”

Liz hit the fence with the front bumper and the zip ties split.  The front windshield frame hit the pipe at the top was thrown to the side while a crack raced across the glass. The front end of the camper dipped then bounced up the incline to the asphalt. The back tilted and bucked then bounced on the roadway. Liz pushed her foot down on the accelerator and looked back toward the parking lot just in time to see the blue camper pull out and accelerate toward the fence.

John opened both side windows and pulled the seat belt tight. He jammed his foot into the accelerator. The engine revved and the machine accelerated as it raced toward the open fence. He waited until the very last moment and then spun the steering wheel hard to the left just as he got twenty feet from the open fence.

The blue camper skidded and tilted while John held the wheel. The top heavy vehicle hung at a forty-five degree angle for a heartbeat then faltered and tumbled to its side. The vehicle slid the last ten feet into the gaping hole in the fence.

John struggled to fight the blackness that threatened to envelope him.  Finally it faded and he opened his eyes.  Still was held in the seat.  He groaned at the pain the seat belt was causing to his damaged ribs. He turned off the engine and released the seatbelt.  He slid off the seat and fell to the side window. He pocketed the key and stood up. He grunted in pain as he twisted his body to reach toward the open window overhead.

“That wasn’t such a good idea. John mumbled to himself.

He stepped on the console between the front seats and pulled himself up toward the window. When he got his hands on the window sill, he pulled himself up and through the opening. He looked back to the gate at the opposite end of the lot and saw the first vehicle, a massive truck with cobbled together grill across the front, slamming through the chained gate.

John climbed down the underside of the camper and fell into the dry ditch with a gasp of pain. He clutched at his ribs and crawled to the road. He got to his feet and hurried away from the camper.

John heard the first gunshot and turned to see two men standing at the side of the fence with guns pointed in his direction.  They fired two more shots.  Both danced off the asphalt at his feet.  He cursed and pushed himself into an ungainly lope.

He rounded the bend in the road to the sound of cursing and screams of frustration.

The second man rose to follow but found Matt rushing toward him. In a flash, he swung out his left leg and connected with Matt’s side. Matt doubled over, spun and kicked out himself. His foot connected with the man’s leg and the man went down. He tucked his body and rolled away coming up with his handgun in his hand. As he brought the barrel to aim, a shot rang out.

Matt saw a flash from the hay bale and threw up his hand in a careless wave. He hunkered down ready to follow the last man when three more shots rang out in the distance.

Snorts and stomping hooves filled the night. The sound of a thundering stampede of hooves filled the night. Another terrified scream was suddenly muffled by the sound of the charging buffalo.

Matt reached the corner of the shed and looked around in time to see a man disappear under the mass of moving bodies. The herd trampled over the ground where the man had been standing. The herd in mass, ran past the building, made a wide arc and moved off into the distance.

When the sound of the herd disappeared, Matt made his way to where the man had disappeared amid the stampede. There was little left of him. The chest was crushed, while the man’s arms and legs were broken and bent in odd angles.

Matt turned toward the hay bales and double clicked his LED light. Tate blinked her light back. Matt watched as a slender shadow appeared from the top of hay. She looked toward the retreating herd one last time then slid down the side of the bale.  She began making her way toward the light then stopped at the body of the man she had shot. The bullet had gone into the middle of the chest and blown out the back of his spine.

When Matt approached, she asked. “Well, did we kill ‘em all?”

Matt answered. “Except for one, I left strung up a ways back.”

Tate looked at the body on the ground. The lower jaw had begun to work spastically. “Now that’s fucked up.”

Matt squatted down next to the body to get a better look. “I thought it took a bite or blood to get the virus.”

Tate let out a long breath and whispered. “You know what that means?”

Matt looked confused. “Not exactly, no.”

Tate gagged. “It’s air born. The virus has mutated and we’re all going to come back.” She leaned over with her hand on her knees taking deep breaths fighting the clinching of her stomach. She could feel the nausea begin to fade. “The world is fucked.”

“Looks like it.” Matt pulled his blade and slid the ten inch steel into the attacker’s eye socket and twisted. “Let’s go talk to a man about those women and kids.”

As Matt led Tate to the man hanging from the oak limb, he retrieved the weapons he had hidden. He only bothered with the handgun from the trampled man. The rifle barrel had bent under hooves of the herd.

When they got to the oak tree, Tate gasped when she saw a man swinging from the oak limb. The whites of his eyes glowed in the shadows of the night. He was terrified. Matt got to his side and untied the bandana and pulled the end of the rag from the man’s mouth.

“Talk.” Matt ordered.

The man moaned. “I can’t feel my hands. Cut me down.”

Tate walked up and slapped the man’s face. “Quit whining. Now tell us about the women in the cage, asshole.”

The man looked panicked. “They’re for the camp. We were alone. Jed said we needed women. It’s his place.”

Matt stood back and folded his arms across his chest.  Tate leaned closer with an angry scowl.  “What kind of place?”

“Camp.  He’s a survivalist sort of.  We went out to shoot guns and had a couple whores….”  His voice trailed off when he noticed the look on Tate’s face.

She slammed her fist into the man’s gut. “You fuckers kidnapped ‘em?”

“Well?” The man began, but Matt grabbed his face in a vice-like grip. “You’re going to tell us all about the camp. How many men are went on this little kidnapping raid and who’s in charge? Where they’re camped, now.” He leaned close and spoke softer yet. “If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll slit you open and leave you tied to a tree with your own guts.”

The man nodded his head. “I’ll tell you!”

An hour later, Tate, Matt and Rodney, the kidnapper, were headed back to the camp where the women were being held. Rodney drove, Tate sat next to him in the truck cab with a gun pressed into his rib. Matt stood in the truck bed with his boonie hat pulled down over his face.

“Make this good or I’ll start shooting and you’ll be the first one I take out.” Tate ordered.

Matt studied the camp as they approached. The only people they had to watch for were an elderly couple that had been in the Oldsmobile. Their daughter and two grandkids were in the cage so easily controlled.

Six survivalists remained in camp to control the old couple and the caged women. Rodney slowed when he neared the camp and saw the first guard. Matt slipped from the back of the truck.

“Don’t do anything stupid and you might live through this.” Tate advised in an angry whisper.

“Sammy? That you?” Rodney asked as he neared a man standing guard at the entrance of a farmhouse driveway.

“Sure is. Where’s the rest of the men?” Sammy asked.

“Bringing up the big truck soon as they syphon diesel from another truck. They’ll catch up soon enough.” Rodney glanced toward Tate.

“Good deal. We need all the fuel we can get.” Sammy laughed. “Head on in. Cows are fed and it’s almost time to check out one or two.” He laughed wickedly.

Tate jammed the gun in Rodney’s rib. “Move out, she hissed.

Rodney pulled away. Tate glanced back and saw a shadow swallow Sammy in a deadly embrace.

Matt hurried after the two men sent into the woods. After a five minute sprint through the dark, he heard them. Slowly, he advanced. He saw their silhouettes against the fading night sky. They carried rifles held to their shoulders, fanning the barrel back and forth as if monsters would jump from every shadow. They drew close to a massive stand of mesquite.

Matt grinned. HE was the monster, they were expecting. He slipped deeper into the gloom of the mesquite bushes and picked up a rock. He glanced at the pair then tossed the stone to the opposite side of the pair. Both men stopped, frozen in place.

After a brief whispering conference, one of the men headed toward the sound where the rock had landed. The second man stood still waiting for his companion to check out the noise. His hands trembled holding the rifle as he moved his weapon covering his cohort.

Matt stepped back into the shadows. It took several seconds to circle to the back of the cluster of mesquite. He stood so close to the man’s side he could hear the man’s raspy breathing. Matt side-stepped behind him, pulled his head up, and drove the blade up into the flesh under the man’s chin. He pulled the inch blade free.

Without a sound, the man relaxed against Matt’s chest. Matt grabbed the rifle strap before the weapon could fall from his fingers. He pulled the body back into the brush and slowly eased it down into the dirt. He placed his foot on the dead man’s back and rolled him under the brush.

Footsteps in the dark alerted Matt of the second man’s approach. Matt stepped behind a forked cedar as he listened to the man draw closer.

An aggravated whisper called out. “Asshole, where the fuck are you?  Get over here!”

Matt whispered. “Help me.”

“Where are you?” The man stopped and whispered back.

“Here.” Matt whispered.

The man took a tentative step forward, then another and another. Suddenly Matt slammed the butt of the confiscated rifle in the man’s head. The man went down without a sound out cold. Matt took less than a minute to string the man up under a massive oak limb with a length of cord. The man’s feet dangled inches from the ground when Matt was done.

After taking a few seconds to search the man’s pockets, Matt fished out a used handkerchief. He shoved it in the man’s mouth, pulled a second from his own pocket and forced it into the man’s open mouth and tied it behind his head. He gave the man a shove and walked away. He picked up both rifles and handguns. He slid them under the brush where he’d left the other man’s body.

Matt glanced toward the road and realized he was less than a quarter mile from the shack. The moon was up full and bright. He sprinted after the two men sent to circle around the front of the shed.

Tate lay out on the hay bale nearly forty feet from the corner of the shed. She could see the hint of light from the lantern inside through the weathered boards. She had a clear view from the roadway to the pasture behind the shed. She kept her eyes moving, examining every shadow, looking for movement from the road to the woods.

Suddenly she noticed half a dozen dark shapes appear from the woods to lumber across the pasture toward the shed. Tate watched the four legged, short-horned, thick bodies plod toward a water tank. She heard a nearby snort and realized another dozen animals rounded the hay bales heading off to meet the rest of the herd.

She studied the shapes and decided they were buffalo, not cattle. She knew of a couple ranches in the Hill Country supplied buffalo meat to specialty restaurants in Houston and Austin. This could be one of them. Getting back to the truck might be interesting with a herd of buffalo to avoid. They were unpredictable and would kill if they felt threatened.

Tate saw a sudden glint of light from the road. She squinted and made out two bent shadows rushing across the blacktop.

Tate followed the moving silhouettes with the rifle scope as they sprinted toward the shed. The men made it across the open road and squatted at the corner of the fence pointing rifles toward the shed. After a full minute, one of the men rose, rushed to the corner and disappeared into the shadows.

Brian glanced toward Billy “You ready for this?”

Billy chuckled. “Do we have a choice?” He checked the load in his weapon for the third time.

“Everyone hang on back there!” Brian called out.

Leon tapped on the top of the truck cab. “We’re good. Let’s get on the road. I see some of those bastards coming this way.”

Brian slammed the truck in gear and accelerated. The pickup pulled out onto the street and headed toward the city park they had decided would be the best place to put the Jon boats into Leon Creek. Brian looked up at the darkening skies.

Paula pointed to the ominous clouds rolling toward the city. “It looks like it might rain.”

“Great.” Billy moaned. “Just one more fucked up thing we don’t need.”

“No, maybe it’ll be a good thing.” Brian answered. “We get to the launch site, get the boats in the water and it starts raining, the shallow area of Leon Creek will be flooded and we’ll float right by the base and infected won’t be any wiser.”

The first drops of rain splattered on the windshield as they back down a narrow incline to the edge of the creek. They were south of the River Walk but north of Concepcion Mission. It was a spot alongside the creek that was less steep than most of the creek banks and the water was a little over fifteen feet wide.

“Billy, watch our six. The rest of you, let’s get this done. Ladies, carry supplies to the water’s edge. Men, grab a Jon boat. Get ‘em in the water.” Brian ordered. “We load up all three boats and use the tarps to hide under when we get moving.”

“How do we do this?” Leon asked.

“We have to distribute the weight so Billy and Juan can take Margo. Leon, you take Paula. I’ll take Dale. Leon and I can carry more supplies. We split them up between the two-man boats. Everyone keeps a pack with them, just in case.”

Leon and Juan carried the first boat to the shore. They shoved the end down in the water and suddenly realized the bank was still too steep to extend the boat out and opted for resting the boats parallel with the edge of the water. Margo and Paula were pressed into holding the boats against the bank.

Once all the boats were sitting at water’s edge, Brian started pointing at boats and directing the loading of supplies.

“Put a case of water, in each boat. Everyone hang on to your pack. Extra foods get put in the front and back boats.” Brian looked beyond the truck toward the freeway a few blocks away and added. “Let’s get moving folks.”

Billy suddenly called out. “Company’s coming.”

“Load up.” Brian called out as he picked up the trolling motors. He passed one to Leon and one to Juan. He walked to the front boat and began mounting the trolling motor to the back of the boat. “Get in the boat, Dale.”

Gentle rain turned into a torrential down pour as the group hurried toward the boats. Rain pelted the small group making the grassy bank slick and treacherous to navigate.

Dale pulled up his sagging pants and stepped out across the edge of the water into the boat Brian held against the bank. The huge man stumbled into the boat headfirst with one foot still planted on the bank. The shallow aluminum craft tilt and begin taking on water.

“Get in and sit down and don’t move!” Brian yelled as he jerked Dale to into the shallow seat.

Billy fired twice then slid down the embankment. “Time to go.”

Leon help Paula into the boat then left her to settle on the seat while he helped Billy, Margo, and Juan into the middle boat and gave them a push away from the bank. He rushed back to the boat with Paula clinging to a small scrub.

Billy fired at the approaching infected while Juan mounted the trolling motor and connected the battery. He turned on the engine and guided the boat toward the middle of the stream.

Billy continued to face the shore and fired twice more. He yelled. “Gotta move now!”

Leon returned to the boat where Paula waited and pushed the shallow craft away from the shore and picked up the trolling motor at his feet. He dipped the propeller end in the water and attached the motor to the flat back end of the boat. He connected wires to the battery and pushed the button and nothing happened. The boat continued to drift back toward the shore.

“Hurry! They’re coming!” Paula yelled as she picked up a paddle and began paddling away from the shore in the rising water. The Jon boat began turned in a circle.

Leon glanced at the motor than back at the battery. It took five seconds to switch the connections then pushed the button and the trolling motor vibrated under his hand. He turned the handle and the Jon boat headed into open water.

Billy fired a short burst. A body rolled down the incline where one boat remained. “Hurry up, sir.” Brian pushed Dale into the boat and growled. “Don’t move!”

Brian pushed his Jon boat away from the shore and stepped into the back of the boat. When the flat bottomed boat wobbled under the shifting of Brian’s weight, Dale yelped and tried to stand.

“Sit down or I’m going to shoot you!” Brian yelled as the boat drifted into the current.  He picked up the motor and mounted it to the back of the boat. “Get to paddling unless you want us to drift back on shore!”

Dale picked up a paddle and began paddling like a wild man. He did little to move the boat into the current so it drifted a mere six feet from shore.

Brian looked under the seat for the battery. “Where is the battery?”

Dale put down the paddle and reached under his seat. “This?”

“Toss it back here.” Brian ordered.

After a half-assed pitch and Brian forced to fall forward to catch it, he pushed his way back to the rear of the boat and sat down again. “Paddle!”

Juan maneuvered his boat to the side of Brian’s boat. Juan and Billy grasped the side of the boat and Juan accelerated. The single trolling motor had just enough power to pull the Jon boat further from the shore and away from the growing cluster of infected now standing on the bank reaching toward them.

Brian hooked the battery to the motor and pressed the button. The vibration of the propeller turn verified power. He gave Billy a quick thumbs-up and both men released their grip on the boat. Quietly, the power of the small propeller pushed the flat bottom boat forward and toward the middle of the creek.

“Move out. Single file. Break out the tarps and covered up.” Brian called out above the sound of the storm.

Brian accelerated and moved his boat to the lead. When he got his knee under the handle, he broke out the tarp at his feet. “Dale, get under that tarp and do it now.”

“Ass-hole.” Dale mumbled.

“That’s Ass-hole, Sir, to you.” Answered Brian as he pulled the tarp over his head and tented the plastic around his face leaving just enough of an opening to see where he was directing the Jon boat.

Rain pelted the survivors. As the storm raged over the next hour the rainwaters made its way from storm drains into bayous then into larger waterways including Leon Creek. The levels rose and the rushing water grew swifter and swifter.

Millie directed Zack to cut the cable into six six-foot lengths. With her guidance, Zack created a one-way locking mechanism on an adjustable loop. He held up the first snare for Millie’s inspection.

She reached out with her hand. “Just a brush of fur will slide the loop tight” Sliding her hand into the loop, she pulled slightly and it snapped around her thin wrists. “They’ll be caught fast.”

She pulled the loop open and extracted her hand. She left Zack to make four more traps while she got to her feet and shuffled back into the cabin.

She pressed her fingers to Steve’s face then looked at Della.  “He’s not looking good. I’ll be looking for some willow when I go out with Zack. But unless we find a honey tree, that’s all I can do for him.”

“Better than nothing, I guess.”  Della answered.

Millie walked back out to find Zack had repeated the trap making while Millie was gone.  She guided him through making an anchor loop on a swivel on the opposite end of each cable.

“Now, they’re all done.” Millie announced. “We go to the woods.”

“Can I go Granny?” Penny asked.

Millie looked at Darlene than nodded. “If your mama will watch from the porch, you can come as far as the garden. When we get there, you gotta go back to the cabin.”

“Yes mam.” Penny nodded.

Millie walked inside the cabin and filled plastic bottles with clear fresh water. She opened cabinet doors until she found a small jar with a lid and dropped it in burlap sack she had fashioned into a shoulder bag.

Steve stirred in the bunk. He reached for his prosthetics when he saw the gathering of supplies being readied to go into the woods.

Millie raised her hand. “Not you. Someone has to protect the child and mother.” After a look around, she continued. “Della will take that pistol and a knife if you don’t mind.”

Darlene stepped to Millie and whispered. “He’s not doing well.”

“Give him that cup of broth I set near the stove. Take the warm water and clean his sores and bandage them with that ointment Della has. If we find a willow, I’ll bring some back for his fever.”

“I’ll do that soon as Penny gets back.” Darlene answered.

Millie led Penny, Della and Zack to the edge of the clearing. There, she pointed Penny back to the cabin. When the child was back in the arms of her mother and waving from the porch, she led Della and Zack into the woods.

The townspeople in Utopia had been generous in sharing clothes with all of them. Della had changed from her filthy scrubs to jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shoes. Zack was dressed in jeans and a t-shirts as well. After nearly a week in the same scrubs for both, it was a real relief. Neither looked like woodsmen, but Millie was determined to pass along what she knew.

As they walked, she pointed to plants. She described the ones that were toxic and which ones they could eat. She passed a willow tree and pulled handfuls of the young tender branches and stuffed them into her burlap bag.

Millie began talking about game trails and to spot them. She pointed at droppings and the differences between raccoon and what a squirrel left behind. She spoke quietly, but used each example to convey information.

Millie walked deeper into the woods studying the ground as she went. “I’ll show you what to look for, but you’ll have to go deeper into the woods to set the traps. I’m just about tuckered out.” At that point she pointed to the ground. “This is a game trail. Animals use the same paths to move from one place to another. Look for a choke point, a place where the trail narrows. That’s where you put the snare.”

She spent the next ten minutes showing how to place the snare. “We have to decide what size animal you’re trying to catch. This may not be easy, since different critters can use the same trail. The animal needs to stick his head through the loop. For now, let’s just say about eight or nine inches.”

Both Della and Zack nodded with each bit of information.

Finally, Della announced. “I think we got it.”

Millie stood with the aid of Zack big hand. “Use that hatchet to mark a trail so you don’t get lost. Don’t go more than a mile out. You got five more snares. Don’t put them too close. A struggling critter will warn off other animals.”

“Yes mam.” Zack answered.

“Don’t get lost. Stay together and mark the trees like I showed you.” She sighed with a puzzled look on her wrinkled face. Go a mile south, then a mile west and then north again. Always go to the right. Use that compass in the knife.” Millie ordered.

Della smiled. “We’ll be fine.”

Millie sighed. “I wish I could go with you, but my legs won’t make it. Be careful. If you be quiet you won’t scare off the game.”

Della and Zack watched the old woman hobble away. She placed her feet carefully on the path as she shuffled back toward the cabin. She had seemed so tireless since arriving at the cabin. Watching her now they realized, she was desperate to share as much information as possible. She provided answers and was determined to do whatever she could to help extend their stay. They realized that with her knowledge of foraging and trapping they could stay for quite a while.

Without Millie, the group would have only been able to spend a week or so at the cabin. Now, if their trapping efforts were successful, they could give Steve time to heal.

“Well, are we doing this?” Zack grinned. “Can you believe we’re doing this?”

Della smiled. “Not really. Lead out trail blazer.”

Della reached into the bag slung over her shoulder to verify the handgun was still present while Zack clutched a hatchet in his hand. He marked the tree as Millie had directed then verified the direction.

They walked deeper into the woods, following the game trail to avoid briars and brush, so when the trail turned they turned. When the trail forked, they kept to the right fork. They set each of the five additional snare traps.

“Well, how do you think we’re doing?”  Zack asked.

“I’m pretty sure we’re doing it correctly.  Now if we can just follow the same trail to recover the game. That is, if we catch anything.”  Della chuckled.

In the end, they found themselves near the base of the narrow road leading up to the cabin when they came out of the woods. Both Della and Zack were sweaty and dirty from their trek through the woods when they got back to the cabin. It was nearly five in the afternoon when Della walked inside the cabin.

Steve asked from the bunk. “Well, how did it go?”

“Long hot walk.” Della answered as she wiped at the perspiration at the side of her face. She settled on a chair at the table.

“See anything interesting? Other people or signs of other people?” Steve asked.

“There’s a good sized watering hole that spills into a small stream. It’ looks clean. We saw fish.”

Zack stomped up the steps appeared at the cabin door. He went to the sink and began pumping the handle. A moment later, water began to flow clear and fresh. He stuck his head under the flow and scrubbed at the dirt and dust clinging to his face and neck. “It’s hot as hell out there. Not even a hint of a breeze.”

Millie pulled his hand from the pump handle and pumped it slow and steady. Zack scrubbed at his face with both hand then pulled the shirt over his head and stuck it under the flow. He wrung it out, then wiped at his face and neck then draped it around his neck.

When Zack stepped back from the sink, he carried two large mason jars of water. He handed one to Della and then settled on a chair.

Millie handed Della a wet towel.

She nodded at the old woman. “Well that was an adventure.”

“Gal, did you two do a good job?” Minnie asked.

Zack wiped at his face and hands. “Yes mam. We did just like you showed us. How long before we know?”

“Trapping ain’t knowing until you follow the trail and check your traps, first thing in the morning. You be hoping for night critters.”

“We gotta get up early, we just got back.” Zack complained.

“If we’re planning on eating what we trap, we might want it fresh.” Millie answered.

“This isn’t such a bad place to be.” Darlene walked in the cabin to join the small gathering with Penny at hand. “Maybe we should stay here until the government gets the infected under control.”

“Maybe.” Steve answered. “For a while.” He lay back on the bunk and closed his eyes.

“You won’t believe all the stuff in the shed.” Zack and Della rushed into the cabin each carrying a five-gallon can.

Zack announced. “It looks like the guy was stocking up.  Maybe he was some kind of prepper or something.”

Della added. “There’s sealed metal cans filled with beans, rice, shortening, flour, sugar and staples.”

Zack continued. “There was a sun hydrator and a smoker. It looks like they stocked up for an extended stay when they came up here. Maybe even planned to spend time living up.”

Steve called out from the front porch where he sat with the rifle across the arm rests of the wheelchair. “Bring the supplies inside, let Millie and Charlene help plan meals around what you find.”

“Do you think the owner will be mad if we use their stuff?” Zack asked. “They stocked up and all.”

“No. I think they’re dead or forced into a FEMA camp.” Steve answered as he tried to find a more comfortable position on the chair. “I found a couple receipts from stores in Houston when I was looking in the drawers. If they were going to come here, they would have made it by now.” He rolled the chair into the room. “My guess is they were evacuated and once in a camp, well. Refugee camps will limit people coming and going to reduce chance of exposure to the virus.”

“That would suck to know you have this waiting and not being able to get to it.” Zack gave a quick shrug.

The three women unpacked the metal cans excited to see so much food available. When they were done, all the items were arranged on the table. Millie sorted the spoils into piles. She checked the cabinets then walked back to the stash, made a face then scrawled lists on a scrap of brown paper bag with a stump of a pencil.

“Well, that extends our stay a bit.” Steve ran the back of his arm across his forehead.  “Can I get another glass of water? It’s sure warm out here.” He called out from the open front door.

Della glanced at Steve sitting outside the door, surprised at his request.  She crossed the worn wood floor and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re running a fever. You need to rest for a while. We got this. Darlene and I can keep watch.”

“Hey man, Millie said she’d teach me to trap if we can find supplies to make traps.” Zack answered. “We’ll be eating high on the hog.”

“That would improve our situation even more.” Steve rolled through the door and to the bunk where he shifted himself into the bed. “That is, if you catch anything.” He forced a chuckle.  “You don’t look much like Daniel Boone to me.”

Millie directed the supplies to be sorted.  She had Della put a few of the bottles and cans in the cabinets while the rest in plastic bags were returned to storage cans then arranged the cans against the wall near the makeshift kitchen. She instructed Darlene concerning the mid-day meal then led Zack out the back door.

With Zack in tow, Millie hobbled past the shed to the volunteer garden beyond. The scattering of plants left after the mild winter appeared to be volunteer growth. Someone had thrown fresh vegetable scraps into a compost pile where they had germinated and grown. Among the remnants of vegetation were tomato plants, yellow summer squash and zucchini vines with fruit hanging along the remnant of fencing. In a corner of the fallow garden were cucumbers plants and smattering of trailing foliage from sweet potatoes.

Millie followed the fencing to the back of the shed then pointed to several plants a short distance from the garden.

“Boy, you pick these plantago. You pick the tender young leaves then we cook ‘em and have greens. There’s plenty so fill this bowl.” She pointed to a second plant. “That second pan, fill with those leaves and blossoms. I’ll pick some cherry tomato and pull some onions and we’ll have a salad of sorts.”

Zack glanced down at the plants. “Yes mam.” He began laying the lighter green leaves in the pan.

Millie chuckled. “This afternoon, we gonna make you into a trapper. Before then though, we have to find some supplies.” She shuffled off to the compost pile to pick tomatoes.

After lunch, Millie again led Zack from the cabin. This time they made their way to the shed with a flashlight in hand. Millie stood at the opened door for a few minutes then made her way to the work table at one side of the ram-shackled structure.

There they found a thin tightly-wound steel cable wound in a circle several times. She scratched around on a work bench and found tools and a handful of other supplies she added to a box. When Millie was satisfied she had what she wanted, she led Zack back to the cabin and settled on the shaded back porch at a picnic table.

Della walked out of the cabin. “Steve’s sleeping, but it looks like his legs are infected. He needs antibiotics.”

“One thing at a time, girlie.” Millie answered. “We make snares then I’ll be seeing to the man’s need.”