Jacob's Odyssey (The Berne Project Book 1) (5 page)

And there were other basic items: a water bottle, sunglasses with chums, and one minimal change of clothes which included a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, a pair of boxers, and one change of socks. I included the surgical masks I had taken from Alex's house along with some household cleaning gloves—in case I ever had to touch one of them again. And I included the 27-inch little league baseball bat Alex had given me as a gag gift for my birthday a few years back. Alex jokingly referred to the bat as my home security safety blanket. And then I packed the Glock 17. I positioned Alex's baseball bat to stick out of the backpack for quick removal in case I needed it. I had decided it would be better to use the bat than the Glock because of the noise factor. I realized the noise from the gunshots at Alex's house had been what attracted the infected group to the house. The last item I packed was the most important of all, at least for tonight—my battery-operated travel alarm clock.

Once I had everything repacked, I set my backpack by the door. But I wasn't quite ready to leave yet. Even though the rain was coming down hard and there would be no better time to leave than now, I was hesitant. Doubts began to worm their way into my mind. What if I couldn't open the back doors to homes? What then? And if I were able to pick the locks, what would I do if there were infected inside, trapped in their homes by their limited motor skills and their functional ineptness? If they were unable to break their way out through one of the windows in their homes, they'd still be there. And how many other things could go wrong. The risks were enormous. I knew I was being paranoid, but I also knew I could be turned if I made even the slightest mistake.

A powerful rumble of thunder shook the condo and I knew I needed to get going. Physically, I felt pretty good. I rubbed my injured shin and noted how much better it felt. There was still a slight tenderness, but my leg felt sturdy. The welt had become a hard, small knot, and the surrounding bruise had faded and turned a pale yellow. The aching in my arms and shoulders had subsided, and I'd even been doing pushups three or four times a day to strengthen them for my trip across the valley. I'd already decided I would only travel three to four blocks a day. It would be safer if I took my time and made sure I didn't make any mistakes. And I didn't want to tire myself out too much. I needed to stay fresh in case of emergency.

I was as ready as I'd ever be. I picked up the backpack and slid my arms through the straps and snapped the front buckle closed. It was a snug fit. Then I spent a few minutes practicing drawing the bat from my backpack to get a good feel for it. And as I drew the bat out from the backpack for what must have been the twentieth time, I couldn't help but feel ridiculous. I was as far from being an action hero as one could get. But I figured as long as I didn't panic or fall apart when difficult situations arose, I'd be fine. I just needed to be careful.

All I had to do now was push the chest of drawers away from the front door and I'd be on my way. I had placed four moving sliders underneath the legs to minimize the sound. First, I had to maneuver the couch a little to give me just enough room to push the chest away from the door. The chest moved easily and fairly quietly. Then I opened the door, and though it made little sense, locked it before I left.

Downstairs, I opened the front door slowly before peering out into the gray rain. There was no lock to the door and since the door itself swung outward, it was virtually impossible to actually barricade the door from the inside. But it hadn't really been a problem since the infected rarely attempted to break down doors. They only tried to get through doors if they saw someone going through a doorway or saw a door ajar. Where an open door was concerned, they were like curious animals. I thoroughly scanned the courtyard but didn't see any infected in the area. I stepped out and looked around, keeping one hand on the door just in case.

If there were any kind of problem, I could always run back to the apartment. I figured that would be an option right up until the time I crossed the street. Once I crossed the street, there'd be no going back. The heavy rain pelted my head and my crew cut was already sopping wet. I let go of the door and ran crouched down toward the edge of the building. The sky grumbled loudly as I took a breath and peeked around the edge of the building. The road that led across the bridge was empty. And for just a moment, the world seemed to be a deserted desolate place, devoid of life, and strangely enough, the thought of that provided me with me some comfort.

While the path across the bridge appeared to be perfectly clear, I didn't move a muscle. I remained perfectly still and I knew why—because every step I took carried me further away from the comfort zone of my apartment. And I knew the infected would never get to me if I stayed there. The fearful part of me kept me locked in place, seeking the familiarity and comfort of what was known. Like most people in this world, I preferred the coziness of the carefully crafted life I'd created for myself. And even though that life had essentially been destroyed, I still pined for the remnants of it. But that life no longer existed, and I'd be a fool to cling to it. I ran my hands through my hair like a squeegee to wipe the water away and stepped away from the condo toward the bridge. I knew if I went back, I'd never leave. I'd eventually starve to death and wouldn't really do anything to change the outcome. Call it a passive suicide.

I began running determinedly toward the bridge, and as I made my way across the bridge, I looked both ways to see if there were any infected lingering on the banks between the creek and the condos. But there weren't any infected around. And other than the screeching of the crickets, the condos were like a silent ghost town, staid and quiet amidst the blustery storm. I slowed down as I approached the street side condos. I hugged close to the side wall of the condo on my right, hoping the shadows might help to obscure my presence. And as I approached the front edge of the building, my view of the street to the left widened perceptibly. Straight across the street there was a home with a six-foot white vinyl fence in the backyard, and I decided that that would be my target. While I was facing east, the house was on a side street and faced north. It would make my task easier since the fence was so close to the street. I'd actually be climbing over the side fence bordering the backyard.

From my vantage point, I could see as far as a block and a half down the street to my left and still didn't see any infected wandering about. Everything was clear and I began to believe I'd get across the street without any problems. I was only a few feet from the front edge of the building now and began to inch my way toward it. The closer I came to the edge, the slower and more meticulous my movements became. The heavy rain was making quite a racket, pinging loudly off the roofs of the cars in the front parking lot and slapping the leaves of the large elm trees in the front of the complex. Leaves and small branches littered the street and parking lot. The blustery wind wasn't as strong as it had been earlier and was blowing out of the west now. It gusted at my back and was still strong enough to slant the rain. I was close enough to the edge of the building to lean my head toward the edge and get a glimpse to my right to see if there were any infected down the right side of the street.

I moved my head just past the edge and spotted five of them about a half block down the street on the far side. They were milling about underneath a tree next to the sidewalk, four adults and a child. At least that's what it looked like. In the growing darkness, it was difficult to make out any details through the blurring veil of rain. All I could see were black silhouettes walking drunkenly in circles underneath the tree, randomly bumping into one another.  And I'm not sure why, but I was surprised to see them. For some nonsensical reason, I had expected the street to be empty. I moved my head back behind the edge of the building and took a breath. Ever since I'd come up with my plan, I hadn't once imagined anything going wrong. I thought everything would simply fall into place.

After a few deep breaths, I decided I had two options. I could run as fast as I could across the street and climb over the fence before they had a chance to catch me. There was no question I could move faster than them and the distance to the fence was about the same for both of us. But if I slipped or fell on the slick, wet street, they might be on me before I could make it over the fence. The only other thing I could think of was using the cars in the condo parking lot for cover. If I got down real low, the cars in the parking lot might block me from their view. That would get me much closer to the street and closer to the fence. From there, they'd have almost no chance to catch me even if I fell.

I stooped down low and moved back to the edge of the building, and when I peered around the corner, I couldn't see them. Even though the nearest cars were about twenty feet away, as long as I kept myself crouched low enough, I was certain they wouldn't see me. I moved cautiously alongside the parking lot curb, keeping an eye out to my left in case any infected showed up down that side of the street. If they did, I'd be in plain view. I crept stealthily along like a thief in the night. It made me nervous that I couldn't see or hear the infected group underneath the tree. And for just a moment, I was tempted to raise my head enough to catch a glimpse of them but thought better of it. The rain was so loud, thrashing through the trees and pounding the cars, that I couldn't hear their constant moans or rasping breaths. If I could hear them, I'd at least be able to gauge their location. But I remained vigilant keeping my eyes trained to the left for any unexpected visitors from down the road. And then there was a sharp crack. I had felt the tension of the branch right before my foot snapped it in two. I remained motionless for a few seconds and listened intently, hoping they hadn't heard me, wanting to believe that if I just remained quiet, they wouldn't notice me.

But then a loud piercing shriek sliced through the noisy chaotic rain. I lifted my head and saw the infected child careening wildly down the street. I couldn't believe she'd heard the sound of the branch breaking with all the attendant noise from the rain. The advantage I'd gained creeping alongside the parking lot was already lost. I started to run and kept my eyes locked on her. And then I began running faster. She was a young girl, maybe eight or ten. The others suddenly noticed me and began trundling frenziedly down the road in my direction. But I knew they'd never catch me. The young girl moved at a much faster pace and was already well ahead of the infected adults. I thought I could make it to the fence moments before she got there. And if I could pull myself over the fence in one smooth motion, I would be in the relative safety of the backyard.

It only took me a few seconds to reach the condo frontage road. I was running as fast as I could, my waterproof hiking shoes splashing the standing street water in every which direction. I headed in a direct line for a fence post that rose several inches above the top line of the fence. I planned to use the fence post for leverage to help pull myself up and over. The infected girl had started off in the direction of where I was when I had snapped the branch and now she had to readjust her line of pursuit. It probably cost her a second. She reached her right arm out toward me and let out a screeching high-pitched wail. But she was still thirty feet away. I leapt over the curb and timed my steps leading up to the fence. When I got to the fence, I jumped up and grabbed the top section of fence and reached up further to grab the top of the post, but as I grasped it, my hand slipped on the slick wet vinyl and my momentum carried me back down to the ground. I stood up and glanced back and she was maybe fifteen feet away and closing. She was lurching toward me, her head bent forward in a crazed focus, a maniacal look on her small, dusky face. Several slick strands of dark wet hair slashed wildly across her face.

The other infected were still thirty feet or more away. I reached back for the bat and pulled it out and held it with both hands in a striking position above my head as I moved forward. I was trembling wildly and could barely move. And just as she reached for me, I brought the bat down hard on her skull. I might have killed her, but before impact, I'd turned my head away and let up on the bat's momentum. I still heard the sharp crack of bone and saw her slump to the ground in a daze. Her head lolled around in a spiral circle for a moment, then she looked up at me with a foggy expression. She lunged for my leg, but I was already back at the fence and out of reach. I tossed the bat over and quickly pulled myself up and over using every ounce of strength I could muster along with a sudden, powerful surge of adrenaline.

As I picked up the bat and replaced it in the backpack, the other infected began slamming themselves into the fence. I felt a sharp tightness in my chest and noticed I was gasping for air and my heart was beating wildly. My breaths were rapid and shallow and I was close to hyperventilating. I consciously slowed down my breathing and tried taking deeper breaths. I felt incredibly drained and still had another seven blocks to go. I stumbled across the yard but only made it halfway before I fell to my knees and began to retch violently. Before long, I had vomited out the entire contents of my stomach. But even after there was nothing left, my stomach continued to roil and spasm with dry heaves. All the while the infected continued to relentlessly bash themselves into the vinyl fence.

*****

The rain had dissipated into a light drizzle. I peered over the fence into the back parking lot of one of the businesses on 9th East. I couldn't be sure which one. The last seven blocks had gone pretty smoothly and I was feeling much better. It had taken me close to three hours to get here. Only once had I seen another group of infected. There had been maybe twenty of them slowly shuffling down a darkened street, a chorus of soft, rasping moans rising from their throats. They seemed quite passive when there was no prey in sight. But even after they were out of sight, I waited several more minutes to make sure they were gone. I decided there wouldn't be any more close calls like the one I'd had earlier, even if I had to wait all night for a street to be clear of the infected.