I felt caged. That day was spent studying the freaks' behavior, going from one window to the next on the second floor of the house. Once I reached one end of the house, I reversed direction until I was back to where I started, standing at a window staring down at the freaks.
That night, I loaded my SUV.
The following morning, after barely getting any sleep at all, I was back to pacing. It was difficult to control my anxiety, and I had been too nervous to see if Murano would actually start. The last time I had tested it, it had taken me a whole week to thin the freaks out of the driveway.
I had left the mobile battery charger hooked up, so every time the power was on, the juice was flowing to the battery. It had started easily a month ago when I had finished the conversion. I had no reason to believe it wouldn't start now.
The SUV was roomy enough, but the gallons of kerosene and vegetable oil I was using for fuel took up a lot of space. I wouldn’t have room to bring everything I wanted. There were many things here I would miss, like my bed and the running water. I sighed heavily, not wanting to go but knowing that staying here was no longer an option.
I needed a distraction to clear the freaks out of my driveway and had devised a plan. I was going to venture up the road to light a fire. I was sure that would lure the freaks away from my house and give me room to back the big vehicle out. As much as they were drawn to noise, they were also drawn to light. It seemed to be a good plan.
Everything was set. It was time to go.
I'd closed and locked all the windows in the house to make it secure, even going so far as to board up the window I'd broken months ago. I looked around my room one last time as I belted on my weapon. Before I turned away, I flipped off the light switch. Old habits die hard.
I decided I was keeping the keys to the house. Having a backup plan just in case never hurt anything, and it gave me a sense of security. So now I had house keys and car keys on my key chain. I snorted at the normality of it. Leaving the door to the garage unlocked, I manually raised the garage door cautiously, keeping my eye out for the freaks.
They were there, waiting on me.
Those that heard the creaking as the door was pulled up came to stand in the driveway, stopping when they sensed nothing else of interest. I had moved back into the shadows of the garage, but they didn't seem to care about me. A few shambled away after a while, going back to their daily activities of pacing up and down the street. The three that remained looked like they had decided this was as good a place to stand as any other.
I approached slowly, watching for any movement or hostility from the freaks. They didn't even look at me.
Holding an old yardstick outstretched in my hand, I nervously walked up behind the one closest to me and nudged its shoulder with the stick. It swayed forward off balance, even stumbling a few steps to stay upright. That was it. I didn't even get a moan of protest from it, and the other freaks didn't bother turning around. It was commonplace for them to be jostled around by their own kind, and it wasn’t enough to warrant an investigation.
I tested the other two as well and received the same response. I didn't matter to these things. Leaving the yardstick resting against the side of the house, I subconsciously rubbed my fingers over the scar on my forearm. As I looked out at the road, the unease rose inside of me. I was going to venture out into that crowd?
Eventually, I pushed myself to move. Grabbing the pack full of dry wood, matches, and kerosene doused rags, I slipped the straps over my shoulders and slowly walked out of the garage.
I knew exactly how many freaks were on this section of street. Twenty-seven who stood unmoving, seven that made their rounds at various different paces, and fifteen that walked up and down the street. That didn’t include the freaks on the lawns. I had initially tried to count the ones standing in the surrounding lawns, but overgrown trees and hedges, not to mention other buildings, blocked my view and my count came up inaccurate.
Regardless, knowing how many were in the street was enough to know how much danger I would be in if they turned on me. It would be a tough fight to break myself away from them, but I had my escape route firmly laid out in my mind. My route had been planned from the upstairs window, but things were already looking much different at the edge of my driveway. I was a mere five feet away from one of the immobile freaks. When I noticed the fresh wound on his arm and the blood dripping from his fingertips, I cringed.
I looked down the street to where I had planned to set the fire. It was only two houses down, but it looked so far away. I swallowed, trying to drum up my wavering nerve, and took a few steps. One of the standers further up the road turned to look towards me, and I froze, but it made no other movement.
My gut was twisting in knots, but I continued. I wasn't able to discern which ones would take notice or ignore me completely, but every time one turned towards me I shuddered. Chills were running through me and I was beginning to think this was a horrible idea.
No Ali, this was a good idea. How else are you getting that tank out of here?
I berated myself, taking a moment to drive the fear back down. One step at a time, and I was inching further, getting that much closer to my target. I wasn't able to follow a straight path there, as I had to weave around the standers and make sure I was out of the walkers’ paths as they came around.
One step at a time.
Now I was in front of the neighboring house and had managed to keep the face-eaters out of striking distance, but there was a cluster of six standing ahead of me under a tree, blocking the sidewalk and my path. I wasn't able to move out to the road either, or I'd end up in a walker's path. I would have to walk close to the group, passing maybe two feet from them, easily within arms’ reach. I paused, considering my lack of options before moving again.
My hand was on the hilt of my knife, but I hadn't pulled it yet. I was unsure if the freaks had enough of their memories left to recognize a weapon, so I kept it sheathed but ready. The palms of my hands were sweating but the leather grip was tight in my white-knuckled grasp. It wouldn't slip if I had to use it. I trusted this weapon.
I knew my pace had slowed to a crawl as I was barely inching up to the group. A couple of them were staring up into the tree, probably noticing birds or watching the leaves rustle in the breeze. I was only five feet away from them and they had taken no notice of me.
I took another step. Four feet away. Still nothing.
Another step. Three feet away. One of the freaks in the back took notice. She looked down at me, but stilled.
One more step and I was beside them. The stench of unwashed bodies was so nauseating this close to them I had to breathe through my mouth.
I stepped away from the group then, increasing the distance between us. The thought that I was in the clear was beginning to form in my mind when one of them backed away from the group, turning to regard me. It was so close I could feel its hot, sticky breath on my shoulder. Before I could stop myself, I side stepped into the road, right in front of the walker I was trying to avoid.
It ran into me. A businessman judging by the suit and what remained of his tie. I stumbled back a step, clinching my teeth together so I wouldn't scream. He stepped into me again, his chest was flush with mine and my nose was a hair’s breadth from his chin. My body went rigid. I didn't dare breathe.
Time stopped.
Looking up into his sunken eyes, I watched his pupils dilate, the black dots growing wider through the red swirling irises. The gaunt, hallow cheeks moved just a fraction as his disgusting breath washed over my face. My heart thundered in my chest as if trying to break free. He had my arm pinned against my stomach, the arm that grasped the knife. I had yet to move, thinking through the steps of how I would pull the weapon to dispatch the walker.
He took another step forward, pushing me backwards with him. I actually pushed him back a step as I drew the blade, my body reacting instinctively. He didn't seem to notice and he walked forward again, right back into me.
&nbs
p; My addled mind put the pieces together before I raised my hand to strike. He was just trying to continue his walk.
With his next step, I let him brush me aside. He was free of me and walking down the street again, not even fazed by his interruption. I looked back at the freak that had startled me and found him staring at me, staring through me.
I still didn't matter to them.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip, and I could feel it dripping down my neck. I was only halfway to my target location. I closed my eyes and struggled to calm myself. Deep steady breaths would slow my heartbeat and ease my nerves, but I couldn’t stop the trembling in my hands. Even though it was the very last thing I wanted to do at that moment, I sheathed my knife.
When I opened my eyes again, the target location looked even further away.
One step at a time.
I stayed in the street, as it seemed to be the clearest path now. When the walkers got too near me, I stopped and they continued past. Ten more steps and I was done. My original target still a few yards away, I couldn't make myself go any further. It was close enough. It would do.
I found a clear spot in the middle of the street. The closest freak was at least five feet away, standing motionless with its back to me for the time being. I very slowly pulled the pack off my shoulders and started to unzip it. It could have been the sound of the zipper or the smell of the kerosene that caught their attention, but every freak that was close to me turned to watch. My stomach roiled but I didn't slow. As I lowered the pack to the ground, I gingerly pulled out the wood and rags and set it all on top of the pack.
Some of the freaks were taking curious steps toward me, and I sped up my process, pulling the matches and striking one to life. I hastily touched the flame to my kindling and watched the fire eat away at the sodden cloth. Grabbing another match, I lit a few more pieces of cloth on fire before dropping it in the pile.
The fire built up quickly, flames dancing more than a foot in the air. I stood, noting the face-eaters that stood close to me were focused on the fire. I stepped backwards as the freaks stepped forward. One brushed past my shoulder, and then another, but all of them completely ignored me.
My plan was working. The idle freaks nearby were drawn to the flame, including those that had milled up into the driveway. Even the walkers had stopped to stare. I was the only one moving away. I could feel the doubt and dread fading from my body the closer I got to my house, but I couldn't celebrate yet. I was so close, but they could still prove to be a huge hazard to me if they blocked me from getting to the main road. My small distraction wouldn't clear all the freaks between here and there.
Nevertheless, I was elated when I got back to the garage and climbed into my nice new SUV. I allowed myself a sigh of relief then. Sliding the key into the ignition, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and would have truly prayed then if I still believed.
Start please, Dear God, start!
I turned the key.
The engine rumbled to life.