defenses, shall we?”
“How does it feel, dad?” I asked, my curiosity overcoming my fear for a moment as we worked our way around the rooms and then headed downstairs.
“Actually, Josh, not that bad. Hurt at first, but now it just stings a little.” He looked at me. “Wouldn’t recommend you go and get your own, though.”
I smiled, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better. I didn’t know what I felt. I was scared, worried, and uncertain all at the same time. What if my dad turned? Would I have to kill him? What would my mother do? What would I do? How could I keep up this house? Would we go to a community? I just didn’t know.
We checked the downstairs preparations, and dad sent me out to collect some extra buckets of water and to make sure the horse was secured in her stall. I gave her an extra helping of hay, and she seemed to be content with the proceedings. I think I was a little jealous of her.
After that, there was little to do but sit around. We stayed upstairs because the house was very dark on the first floor. The window covers were very effective, and only a little light showed around the portholes. If I stayed down there I could see a little, but it wasn’t easy. I went into my room and started making more arrows. I was nearly out of materials, but I did the best I could with what I had.
After I had made about two dozen, I pulled a couple of books off the shelf and dove in. They were westerns, naturally, since I was the proud new owner of a Colt. That thought sobered me a bit when I thought about what that Colt had cost me. Or might cost me; we’ll see.
Chapter 20
The sun was slipping past the horizon when I looked out the window. That was when I saw the first one. She was young, about my age, and was moving slowly through the trees. Her blonde head swayed a little from side to side, and her arms were out in front a bit to give her a little balance. She was wearing a sweater and some jeans, and I could make out some dark marks on her face. As she got closer, I saw those marks were blood stains. She looked around, scanning for threats, and moved along our western wall. She was about fifty feet from where I was, and I could have easily killed her with an arrow, but I didn’t dare make a sound. Her angry cries would draw everyone around for a mile, and I had enough to worry about.
I watched her stumble past, and happened to look over at my neighbor’s house. It had been empty for years, and there was nothing of any use in there. The only thing it was good for was firewood. Dad and I had torn up the oak floorboards from the two bedrooms last winter when the snows were really bad.
After her came two more—young men by the looks of them. One had a knife sticking out of his shoulder, and the other was dragging a broken foot. I remembered the arrow I had put in the chest of another Tripper, and I couldn’t help but wonder why that one died but this one seems to be doing just fine.
Suddenly, the two stiffened and they stared at the house next door. I looked up and saw that someone was there! There was a person standing in the downstairs window, and with the last sunlight drifting through the building, they were outlined as clear as day. The Trippers began to move up to the house, and whoever was there wasn’t very bright, because they moved quickly to close the curtains.
That was it. The Trippers howled and rushed the house, one reaching it sooner than the other with the broken foot, but they started to pound on the window they saw the person in. The noise brought back the blonde from before, and there were six more that came over the yard and advanced on the house.
“Dad!” I whispered, walking away from the window. “Dad!” I went into my parent’s room, and found my dad reading a book.
“What is it Josh?” He looked up from his reading. I caught the cover and it said
“How does it feel, dad?” I asked, my curiosity overcoming my fear for a moment as we worked our way around the rooms and then headed downstairs.
“Actually, Josh, not that bad. Hurt at first, but now it just stings a little.” He looked at me. “Wouldn’t recommend you go and get your own, though.”
I smiled, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better. I didn’t know what I felt. I was scared, worried, and uncertain all at the same time. What if my dad turned? Would I have to kill him? What would my mother do? What would I do? How could I keep up this house? Would we go to a community? I just didn’t know.
We checked the downstairs preparations, and dad sent me out to collect some extra buckets of water and to make sure the horse was secured in her stall. I gave her an extra helping of hay, and she seemed to be content with the proceedings. I think I was a little jealous of her.
After that, there was little to do but sit around. We stayed upstairs because the house was very dark on the first floor. The window covers were very effective, and only a little light showed around the portholes. If I stayed down there I could see a little, but it wasn’t easy. I went into my room and started making more arrows. I was nearly out of materials, but I did the best I could with what I had.
After I had made about two dozen, I pulled a couple of books off the shelf and dove in. They were westerns, naturally, since I was the proud new owner of a Colt. That thought sobered me a bit when I thought about what that Colt had cost me. Or might cost me; we’ll see.
Chapter 20
The sun was slipping past the horizon when I looked out the window. That was when I saw the first one. She was young, about my age, and was moving slowly through the trees. Her blonde head swayed a little from side to side, and her arms were out in front a bit to give her a little balance. She was wearing a sweater and some jeans, and I could make out some dark marks on her face. As she got closer, I saw those marks were blood stains. She looked around, scanning for threats, and moved along our western wall. She was about fifty feet from where I was, and I could have easily killed her with an arrow, but I didn’t dare make a sound. Her angry cries would draw everyone around for a mile, and I had enough to worry about.
I watched her stumble past, and happened to look over at my neighbor’s house. It had been empty for years, and there was nothing of any use in there. The only thing it was good for was firewood. Dad and I had torn up the oak floorboards from the two bedrooms last winter when the snows were really bad.
After her came two more—young men by the looks of them. One had a knife sticking out of his shoulder, and the other was dragging a broken foot. I remembered the arrow I had put in the chest of another Tripper, and I couldn’t help but wonder why that one died but this one seems to be doing just fine.
Suddenly, the two stiffened and they stared at the house next door. I looked up and saw that someone was there! There was a person standing in the downstairs window, and with the last sunlight drifting through the building, they were outlined as clear as day. The Trippers began to move up to the house, and whoever was there wasn’t very bright, because they moved quickly to close the curtains.
That was it. The Trippers howled and rushed the house, one reaching it sooner than the other with the broken foot, but they started to pound on the window they saw the person in. The noise brought back the blonde from before, and there were six more that came over the yard and advanced on the house.
“Dad!” I whispered, walking away from the window. “Dad!” I went into my parent’s room, and found my dad reading a book.
“What is it Josh?” He looked up from his reading. I caught the cover and it said
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