The walkers

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As we entered the woods, I began to relax. While walkers weren't especially rare in the woods, they didn't seem to appear as often as they did in the open roads and cities. Maybe some part of their brain still remembered the human desire to congregate together near points of civilization. Whatever the reason, at least during the day the woods were safe to travel. And even if you did encounter a horde of walkers, half the time you could avoid them just by walking through a group of trees that were close together. Since walkers had zero problem-solving skills, they would all just get bunched together trying to shove through one gap of trees and become stuck. The other half of the time, you could just climb a tree and wait for nightfall.

I wondered if I should explain all this to Bob who was a steady five paces behind me. I looked back towards him just in time for him to speak, "So do walkers not like the forest or something? I've noticed that while I've been here. They seem to mainly wander on the roads. Actually, hitting one was how I lost my car. Thing just walked in front of me. Thankfully it was just him, so I got out and went to check on him and he came back up like nothing happened. I freaked out and kicked him in the head. He finally stayed down for at least a little bit while I grabbed my bag and gun. I had to leave behind all my other stuff because he started rising again. I took off to the woods on the side of the road and ran for what felt like forever before stopping. When I looked back I realized I wasn't being followed anymore."

I nodded, "Yeah something about forests keeps them at bay, though you will still encounter them here sometimes. But come nightfall no more forest because then the insomniacs come out. The forests are perfect hunting grounds for them."

Bob stepped up his pace so he could walk beside me, "So these insomniacs are a real problem huh? You mentioned them last night but I don't understand why you're so terrified of them. They're walkers who operate at night right? While the others are sleeping."

I chuckle softly to myself shaking my head, "I wish that was all. No, insomniacs are a whole different breed from walkers. First off they can run and trust me you won't outrun them, their stamina is endless. Next they're actually passably intelligent, especially when compared to walkers. They can open doors, climb trees that have very easy footholds, and they can actually hunt."

Bob stopped in his tracks, "What do you mean they can hunt? Like they can devise strategies and work together to take down someone?"

I nodded continuing to walk forward hoping I wouldn't have to stop for Bob, "Yeah. They'll spook you with one and trick you into running into a group of them. I had another survivor with me a couple of years back. Old childhood friend who found me right after this first started. His name was Stephan.

We were a good team, both of us thought along the same wavelength so we could put together plans by saying all of three sentences to each other and we just intuitively knew the rest. Had made it pretty far but then one night when we were holed up in a small cabin in the woods we got attacked. Must of have been fifty insomniacs there. We had boarded the windows up when we set up camp so they weren't able to break in but they beat on the walls for hours.

Suddenly it all stopped. We peeked through some cracks in the boards and saw daylight had come. We got so excited. We had survived the night. We slowly unlocked the back door and opened it only to find the insomniacs had set themselves up to collapse in front of the door to block us in. We closed it up and went to the front, unlocked it and opened it only to find maybe twenty walkers. The insomniacs had dragged their bodies to us during the night and they were just standing there in front of the doorway. Before we could even react they grabbed Stephan and started savagely beating him. All he could do was scream 'Run! Run while you can.' I shoved past them all, almost getting grabbed myself and tore off into the woods. I just kept running and all the while I could still hear him screaming. It wasn't till I couldn't hear him anymore that I stopped to catch my breath."

At some point during my story I had stopped walking. I wasn't sure when they had started but I could feel tears welling up, "Honestly I don't know how I survived, but after that I gave insomniacs their proper credit. So now when night comes, I hunker down wherever I am and pray that I don't encounter any."

Bob stood next to me and gently patted my back, "That's rough man. I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But I got to say, dude you're better than me. I think something like that would have broken me. I'd have just given up right then. But you keep on pushing for your friend and yourself. That's some real heroics. If we survive this I'm going to make sure the whole world knows what a true badass you are."

I started laughing, an actual real honest to god laugh which I hadn't done in ages, "If you say so Bob. I don't think I'm a badass. I've barely made it all these years and at least half of that has been sheer luck. But sure, if we make it out you can tell the world whatever you want about me. Now let's keep going, we've got a lot of land to cover if we want to make it out of the forest before nightfall."

We pushed on for several more hours opting to eat some more of the granola bars I had while we walked. Making sure to ration out our water. Thankfully, Bob was apparently carrying a pill that cleans water when you drop it in. We came across a couple of small streams and each time took the opportunity to refill all canteens we had. For me that was only one but Bob had five of them and something close to a hundred pills.

The sun was pushing down towards the horizon having now reached tree top level when we finally stopped for a short break. We took the opportunity to look at the map. We had been heading pretty much due north with the help of Bob's compass. We were trying to make it to one of the many small villages scattered around the country. Almost none of them had names but they were at least marked. Bob squinted at the map and it looked like he was trying to do some calculations in his head, "I think we need to head more northwest now. If I'm right on how far we've walked we should get there right before nightfall."

I breathed a sigh of relief, "I think you're right. Glad to know my bearings aren't completely off." We started walking again heading in hopefully the right direction. "Bob, I have to ask. You come from a place with cell phones and the internet yet you have a lot of tools that look like they would be considered outdated. Why?"

Bob stared off for a second before answering, "The simple answer is I'm a bit of a weird guy by the standards of where I live. I'm a major history nerd and so I've read many books on how things used to be. It's part of why I wanted to come vacation here. When I read up on your country one of the top descriptors that everyone used was rustic. I couldn't have imagined the reality, but still that idea appealed to me.

I collect all these little odds and ends then never really have a chance to use them. So I figured I would come here and live like it was a simpler time. Before machines did half of our jobs and you could do almost anything you wanted from the comfort of your own home. I've done simulations at home of what it's like to have to find your own way without using your phone. I've hunted at some of the nature preserves we have. But none of it is real compared to actually being here and doing it. I mean the animals at the preserves will literally walk up and lick the barrel of your gun they're so unafraid of humans.

Just to buy and actually go use this gun was a whole lot of hassle with the government. Because no one really bothers with them anymore. They're considered antiques of a different era. When I decided I would bring it with me for this trip that was a whole lot more paperwork. Just so I could get a special slip saying it was legal for me to be transporting the weapon outside of my own city and county."

Bob sighed, "I just feel like I might have been better off to be born here. Obviously I'm glad I wasn't given what's happened here but with my odd taste for things from times long past maybe I'd have been better off. I'm not well liked by many people because of my taste. I simply get labeled as eccentric and people make a point to avoid me. Even my clothes which I assume don't seem all that strange to you are considered impossibly bizarre in my country. They aren't form fitting or flashy and so while I might look like a regular person here, back home I like a freak."

I whistled softly, "Wow that's awful. So just because you're into stuff from the past everyone treats you differently. Well if it means anything Bob when we first met I didn't automatically know that you weren't from around here." I stole a quick glance at the compass and turned slightly to put us back on course.

Bob's face lit up, his eyes almost seeming to glow with joy, "Really you didn't? That's great! Thank you for that. Honestly I think hearing you say that has made every bad moment before this kind of worth it. I don't like most of the people where I'm from so screw them. Thank you Steven. Thank you so much."

I grinned, glad to have made Bob happy over something so simple. I realized the trees were starting to thin out in front of us and I could just barely make out the outline of a building up ahead. "Well I think we've finally made it, Bob. Home for the night is just up ahead." Bob starts to move faster eager to set up camp when I grab his shoulder and push down crouching with him, "Hold up. Those buildings are actually still standing up pretty well. That's normally indicative of actual people living here meaning we need to be careful with our approach. Many survivors are quite twitchy with their firearms and stingy with food and shelter."

I slowly stand up motioning for Bob to stand up as well. We begin to walk forward slowly, my hands moving into a position where they are clearly visible. Bob sees this and mimics me. We breach the tree line and immediately hear a voice though see no one, "Stop right there strangers." The voice sounded a little older, a bit gravelly sounding, "What do you two want? We got no food for you. You want a place for the night to hide from the insomniacs? If so we can make a trade."

I looked up at the house directly in front of us. We were facing its side and one window was open. I raised my voice slightly to make sure I could be heard, "Give me just a moment sir, to consult my friend here." I turned my head to Bob and lowered my voice to almost a whisper, "Please tell me you got some food in that fancy bag of yours. Because I've only got two granola bars left."

Bob nodded, "I do. I was going to let you know about it later tonight. I have three cans of beans and two MREs. If it will buy us shelter for the night we can try to hunt tomorrow maybe."

I nod my head quickly turning back towards the window, "Alright sir we got three cans of beans. If you take that for the night then we'll hunt tomorrow and share our bounty with you before moving on." I hear some grumbling coming from the window. It sounded like two voices now, a man and a woman.

A couple of minutes pass before we hear the man again, "Alright you take the house off to your right. It's unlocked. You can leave your cans of beans on my front porch. When you go hunting tomorrow, if you come up with nothing, don't bother coming back here."

Bob and I slowly work our way over to the front porch. Bob puts his bag down unzipping the top pouch reaching deep into it pulling out three fairly large cans simply labeled 'Beans'. Bob zips back up his bag and calls out, "Thank you good sir for your generosity."

We start to walk towards the house the man had indicated when we hear a woman's voice call out from behind us. She sounds far too young to be in any position of responsibility. "These cans are way bigger than I thought they would be. One of you come back here and pick one up."

The man's voice chimes in somewhat angry sounding, "Dammit don't tell them that. That's a good amount of food for us."

The woman argues back her voice taking a sharp turn, "These folks were nice enough to give us far more food than we really deserve. We can show a little kindness ourselves and not be greedy."

We hear the man grumbling before calling out, sounding defeated, "Fine. Come back and get one can. But remember no food from hunting, don't come back."

I motion Bob to go ahead and I turn back heading towards the house. I grab a can of beans, "Thank you both very much. Trust me, especially in these times your kindness will not be forgotten."

The man simply grumbles in response but the woman calls back to me, "No, thank you kind sir. My husband won't admit it but we were running low on food so you came along at just the right time."

I simply nod in the direction of the house before turning back to my temporary shelter for the evening. I stop for a brief moment to admire the sun finally dropping below the horizon and then I head inside. I took a quick look around realizing the house, at least what I could see, had been pretty much stripped down outside of base furniture. Any photos or personal effects were gone. Bob calls out to me from a room up ahead and off to the side "Hey, in here. I already found some stuff to break down for wood and I've got a fire starter so I should have a flame here in just a moment."

I make my way towards Bob's voice, "That was really nice of those folks to give us back a can. It will be nice to actually have a real meal for the first time in almost three weeks. I've mostly been surviving on those granola bars. Seems like nobody likes these things. I find at least three or four in every house I stop in. Almost like someone's personal stash that they've been leaving behind. Kind of weird now that I really think about it."

Bob is sitting over some kindling blowing on it getting a flame started, "That is weird, but for now let's get these beans cooking. Open the top on them and hand it over. I got something to stick over the flame that we can set it on and heat them up."

I grabbed the pop top and peel it back, handing the can over to Bob who reached into the top of his bag again pulling out a foldable metal tray. He unfolds it and sets it over the flame taking the can from me and gingerly placing it in the middle of the tray. I settle down in front of the flame reaching my hands out to warm them, "Hey Bob I have a question for you. You told me earlier about your love for all things rustic and yet that bag of yours seems pretty advanced. At least a dozen little compartments that I've seen and I'm willing to bet another dozen more I haven't. So what's with that?"

Bob chuckles, pulling out a large spoon from the side of his bag and stirring the beans. "That's my one concession. I couldn't store all my gear in an old fashioned bag so I went with something a bit more advanced. I know it ruins the whole look but now I'm glad I did it. Would have been rough having to choose what bag to grab from my car."

I shrugged, "That was a good concession to make and even if everything hadn't gone wrong for you it was still a smart one. It doesn't ruin the look but it definitely let's everyone know you aren't necessarily from around here."

He laughed while carefully moving the metal tray off the flame and reaching into his bag once again producing two smaller spoons. "Well, considering I wanted to come off as something close to native, it seems like a deal breaker for me. I don't have any bowls in here so we are just going to have to sit over the can and eat."

I took the spoon offered to me scooting over so I'm over the can, "Fine with me." We proceed to eat almost half the can of beans. When we're done he puts the lid back over the top to help them hopefully stay until morning. It's still early, the light from the setting sun casting long shadows across the floor, but we are both exhausted from our day's trek. So we each settle against a wall and prepare to get some sleep. "Night Bob. Hopefully hunting will go well tomorrow. So make sure you rest up since you're the one with the hunting weapon."

He looks over to me, "I might hand you the rifle tomorrow. I got a feeling you're a better shot than me. Anyways, night Steven."

Sleep came easier than it usually did that night. Maybe it was knowing I had someone watching my back. Maybe it was just knowing I was near other humans. All I know is for the first time in a long time I had a dream and it wasn't a nightmare. Morning came quicker than I would have liked but that's how it always is.

I awake to Bob already moving the tray with the can back over the fire which he has already gotten going again. "Well hello there. Did you know you're a sleep talker? Not much of one but you are. Does the name Millie mean anything to you?"

I nod frowning, "Yeah not a subject we're going on right now. Let's eat and then get on. Before we leave we need to ask those people if they got salt. If so, we can make ourselves jerky, that should stay for the rest of our trip."

Bob grinned, seeming to let me be about Millie, "Yes! I kind of hoped you would say that. I've read up on the process so I'm admittedly excited for the whole thing." Bob and I eat our beans quickly, put out the fire, grab only our essentials, and head over to the house across from us.

I walk up to the front porch and call to the closest window, "Hey got a quick question for you folks. Do you happen to have salt in there?"

The woman responds back after about thirty seconds, "Yes we do. You boys are going to make yourselves some jerky?"

I laugh, "That's the plan at least. Alright, thank you. We'll be heading out now."

She calls back out as we begin to walk away, her voice like bells drifting on the breeze, "You boys be safe. We'll see you tonight."

We put ourselves due north and quickly walked our way back into the forest. It takes us over an hour to pick up the first sign of deer tracks. I had already decided last night I wasn't going smaller than a deer. We needed food and so did these people. We immediately slow down and crouch slightly, taking our time and following the tracks. Soon we are rewarded with the deer. Thankfully it seems healthy and at least for now, unaware of our presence.

I put a hand on Bob's shoulder whispering, "Give me the gun and after that don't move." Bob nods his head slightly and very slowly passes his gun over to me. I was glad he had decided to carry it rather than throwing it on his back like he normally did. I take the gun and bring it up to my shoulder staring down the sight. For a brief moment I think about how impressive this gun was for a society that supposedly no longer used them.

I take a deep breath setting my aim right at the neck. The deer is continuing to eat, thankfully not moving at all. Almost like it's been waiting for me this whole time. I breathe one more time and pull the trigger. As the gun fires, I spare a thought for how many walkers this could attract. The shot rings true and the deer collapses, blood pouring out of its neck. I rush over, having dropped the gun and pulling my machete out. I bend over the deer muttering a quick prayer in thanks for its life, then slice it's neck, opening the flow of blood and ending its life.

Once the blood finally stops, I grab the deer and chuck it over my shoulders. Bob has collected his gun and we begin the trek back to the small village. Thankfully it's barely mid day so we got plenty of time to dress the deer down. When we arrive we immediately make our way over to the house with the man and his wife. I crow out, "So who wants some venison?"

I hear a set of locks being turned and undone before finally the door opens. As it does, the man speaks again this time much kinder than yesterday, "Well I'll be. I didn't really think you boys could do it or if you could that you would actually come back."

I drop the deer staring at the man. He's far too old to not have been affected by whatever caused the walkers. Me and Stephan figured out pretty early on that if you had been over the age of thirty when whatever caused the walkers happened then you were affected. That's why the few strongholds that still existed in the country were filled with young adults, teenagers, and children. The man put his hands up and spoke quickly, "Woah son it's okay. I don't know why either, but me and my wife weren't affected. It's part of why we never leave the house just in case whatever it is, is in the air. But we do step out occasionally to get fresh air and I figured this was a pretty good time for it."

I step back, almost tripping over the deer carcass as I stare at the man and his wife. She was older too, not as old as him but more than enough that she should be affected. Though her voice did not match her age in the least. She still sounded almost like a teenager. She finally stepped from behind her husband, "I'm sorry if we scared you. But I promise we aren't walkers, I mean we can still talk and I'll run if you want me to."

I shake my head, "No that won't be necessary. I'm sorry I reacted like that, I was just shocked. I've not seen anyone as old as you two, who were still fine since this all began. But we can talk more on that later, for now we got this deer."

The man walked over, hefting the deer up and heading around the back of his house, "You boys let me handle this part. I've been doing this since everything went to hell. I'll have this deer butchered and ready for Meryl’s big stew pot before you know it. For now head inside and have a seat, maybe a drink."

Meryl begins walking back towards her home, "Come on boys I've got real lemonade. Something I bet you haven't had in years."

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