Seven o'clock in the morning, we woke up and took a peek outside hoping to see nothing but an empty lawn. We were disappointed. I don't have a photographic memory, but I'm sure that each and every one of them were standing just as still as they were last night. It was eerie. They seemed to be frozen in place, almost as if they froze overnight.
I wanted to see if they were alert, so I grabbed a twig from the corner of the tree house and I threw it across the yard where it connected across the back of a female leather's head. She snapped to, turning around and blamed the zombie standing behind her and shrieked at it. I heard that kind of shriek before. It was the same kind they used on their prey, to paralyze them with fear as they moved in for the kill. The zombie who was being shrieked at was a heavy set old man, and his attention went immediately to her. He shrieked back as well, but then she was on him, knocking him down and began chewing at his face. I saw hands going up in the air trying to claw at something, but the ferocity of the attack was too quick and violent for the elder undead to fight back. Within seconds, the leathery woman gnawed her way into his skull bringing the thrashing food source to a sudden rest. The other zombies seemed to be oblivious to the altercation, and then the female got up and went back to standing still, letting the fresh zombie blood run down her chin adding a new layer of stains upon her filthy blouse.
That was discouraging. It meant they weren't hunting, but they were primed and would be prone to provocation. All it would take is a nudge and they would turn and strike. We couldn't just continue to wait in this tree house forever. We still needed to get to Rhinelander, and it was so close. It was about a hundred miles away. We could make it tonight if we could just leave now. Kat and I talked about what to do. She wanted to wait a few hours and maybe something would happen to catch their attention. I wanted to move right away and make it to Rhinelander before sunset. As each day passed, we lost more and more light. Kat ultimately had a point, though. What good would pushing to Rhinelander be if we got eaten in the process?
So we ate instead. We also finished the last of the water, so we would need to find more ASAP. We waited for a few hours like Kat wanted. We talked while we played some cards, courtesy of Hector. We talked about Hector, how we were hoping he was doing well. We hoped Wallace and Temperance were taking good care of him and more importantly were simply getting along well. Losing an arm in a world like this, especially when you have to live with the person who took it from you, would be a tremendous amount of stress. We know that stress is one of the worst things to happen to you, because it opens the gates for the vivensmortua virus to turn you insane. If Hector wasn't coping, wasn't dealing with the situation properly, he could pose a risk to the two. With Temperance pregnant, that would ensure that Wallace would not hesitate to kill him to protect his family. I know, because I'm in that exact same situation with Kat. I will kill anyone who presents a threat to her and my unborn child, needless to say kill anyone who threatens me.
Noon was setting in. There was no change outside, and now we had less than six hours of light left. We wouldn't make it to Rhinelander tonight, but staying here any longer simply wasn't an option anymore. We were out of water, so we needed to move. Have you ever seen that monster movie with Kevin Bacon that was out in the early 90s called Tremors? It was about a monster that wormed its way through the soil to hunt people from below. The main characters of the film came across a guy who climbed a tower and stayed up there for so long, he died of dehydration. I did not want to be that guy. I had no idea how long these leathers would be standing here, but I was tired of waiting and convinced Kat that we needed to go.
Before we attempted to leave, we had to make a plan. We surveyed all around us the zombies down below. They were almost completely shoulder to shoulder, but there was a slight path that curved away from the tree house, across the yard and to the back of the house. We knew that door was unlocked, because that's where we came from with the blankets from the night before. Now that we had the route, the hardest part was getting to that door.
We slowly climbed down and began an even slower walk; we were crawling standing up. Some of the zombies we had to pass by were so close together, we needed to turn sideways. An Asian zombie breathed down my neck, triggering a flight or fight response me in, and I had to muster my entire will to quell it, or I'd have lit the fuse for a massive zombie explosion. If any zombie bit us, the smell of fresh blood would turn this passive group of leathers into an undead pack of piranhas. I froze and Kat nearly bumped into me, almost causing a domino effect. We stood still for a minute or two, and when the zombie that breathed on me swayed back a few inches, we pressed forward. Half way there, the path opened up by just a few inches, enough to give us some breathing room. It was enough for us to walk face forward, but just barely. I held Kat's hand and felt the tension building in her. She was becoming afraid, and so was I. I was never this close to so many zombies at once, and even the slightest bump on one would cause them to attack. The nervousness was beginning to twist my stomach into pretzel. Dogs would smell the sense of fear from us now a mile away, yet the leathers remained perfectly still. Sorry, Rampert, but I call bullshit.
After what seemed an hour of moving one inch at a time, we were mere feet from the back door when we heard gunshots off in the distance. At first, it was a KRA-KOW of a rifle followed by a few more and then a THUT-THUT-THUT-THUT of an automatic weapon. Before we could even register what was happening, all 80, maybe even a hundred zombies in that backyard issued a harmonious shrill that was painfully deafening. We clasped our ears with our hands and then thunder struck us as a flood of undead bodies washed over us, taking us down and running us over. Kat was knocked back several feet from me while I was forced to the side next to the house. She later told me she was screaming, but I didn't know it at the time unable to hear her over the banshee-like wails of the horde.
And just like that, they were gone, chasing down whoever was shooting off those guns. This is why I don't like guns. As of right now, whoever's fighting thinks the guns are keeping them alive, but they're only inviting more coming for them. When I used guns in the past, I was lucky. Not many zombies were around to attract, but here in this town, they were everywhere. Which each shot I kept hearing, I knew they were only further signing their death certificate.
I saw Kat lying still on the ground in the fetal position and I ran to her and put my arms around her. At first, it seemed like she wasn't breathing, but she was traumatized from the horror of being trampled by scores of leathers. She was taking in a breath before I got to her and was holding it in until her brain would finally let her scream out. She did, startling me in the process, but I instantly hugged her face to my chest to muffle her scream, picked up her in my arms and brought her in the house. After her initial set of screams dissipated, she began sobbing. I just held her close, petting her hair and cooing to her until she relaxed. And then... SMACK! Right in my face.
She was angry at me for not waiting one more hour. I don't blame her. I know I rushed it. Had we waited one more hour, they would have heard those gunshots and flocked to them leaving the yard once again open and safe for us to cross back to the house. She didn't stay mad at me for long, though. She knew that we did have to keep moving. It was just a risk we needed to take.
We did one last sweep through the house to check for anything useful but after we found nothing, we left the house. Kat got in the wheelchair and I got on the bike and we headed back to the freeway. We heard a loud explosion from the same direction as the gunshots, so we stopped and waited. Several minutes went by and no new explosion. If I had to guess, it was a suicide with a grenade. If you were going to die, might as well take a few with you.
We traveled up I-39 for a few miles, but the population of zombies just kept increasing to the point where they were blocking our path. We decided to abandon the interstate for now, taking back roads. They still had groups of zombies scattered around, but it was nothing we couldn't maneuver past. We rode past a county fair that still had its tents up. There was a small rollercoaster and a few other rides that we could see, including a carousel. I asked Kat if she wanted to stop by and take a look, and she told me, "You must be fucking kidding me!" Heh, yeah. Carnivals are creepy enough as it is. There's no point in freaking ourselves out perusing the apocalyptic aftermath of a carnival. Besides, I have a morbid fear of clowns. Just imagining running into a zombie clown would be enough to make me piss my pants.
We traveled for about 30 miles on back roads and when we noticed the zombie population thinning out, I made a decision to return to I-39, but it no longer was the interstate. It was now Highway 51. We took that through Wausau and got off 51 just where the Wisconsin River began to curve parallel to the highway. We crossed a bridge into a small little town called Brokaw and the first thing we saw was a water tower, so we immediately went to the spout and tried to turn it on. To our surprise, there was water! Kat went to get under it, but I pulled her back remembering our dip in the Illinois river. I told her to take the zombie suit off first so that the water wouldn't wash away some of the smell, but then got frustrated with me. She said what good is taking the suit off in order to bathe if she was only going to put it back on and get stunk up again? We had a bit of a spat about that. She was tired of wearing the skins, tired of always stinking and just wanted to feel normal again. I had to remind her that these skins were the only things keeping us alive, and we never would have made it this far without them. She stormed off to her wheelchair and rolled down the road. I quickly filled up our water bottles and chased after her.
The first house we came across would be the spot where we'd crash. The town was a complete contrast to Stephen's Point, nearly devoid of all leathers. It was almost like that town called out to this town to bring its undead masses there in anticipation of something greater. I don't know what was going down in Stephen's Point, but something was causing them to behave differently. If and when we make it back to Terre Haute, I'm plotting a course to avoid that town.
After we did an initial sweep of the house to make sure it was safe, we then started rummaging through the pantries and cabinets looking for food when by the good graces of God (He's a dick, but sometimes He cuts you a break), we found some canned tuna! TUNA! I haven't had tuna in over a year! Cats love tuna, so Kat loves tuna. We so needed this. We needed a treat to lift our spirits up. I took out my utility knife and used the can opener on Kat's can and then mine. We dined on tuna feeding each other by the dim light of the Solar Flare and although I'd kill for some artisan bread and mayonnaise to make a proper sandwich, the fish tasted amazing straight from the can. I actually wanted to open the third can of tuna and dig in right away, but I had to exercise some restraint and save it for later. TUNA! So fucking happy!
We were content. Even having to turn the bloody mattress over in the bedroom didn't bother us much. We got new sheets out of the linen closet and put them over the matress and snuggled. Then, we talked Rhinelander. It was definitely happening tomorrow. It was only 50 or 60 miles away now. We imagined what a place powered by solar roadways would be like. We wondered how many people had the same idea and tried to make it there. How many were currently living there? Was it going to be militarized like Indianapolis? So many questions! They'd all be answered tomorrow, though.
Until tomorrow.
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