2 Weeks Later
"This is it?" Glenn asked as soon as he got out of the pastel lime green car that honestly makes me a little nervous about how easy it is to see.
I shut the back door behind me, pointing to the two-car garage that houses a black pickup truck I saw yesterday after we found storage units nearby to stay in. Daryl and I went out hunting and found this house.
The truck isn't the exact thing I had in mind for a heavy hauling vehicle. The gas mileage is what most concerns me for a truck this big.
It's a twin cab with a bed that would fit a small elephant if it was laying down on it's side. But it has a snow plow hitch on the front.
I've been keeping my eyes sharp — even going out of my way to find one of these, and this is the first one I've seen.
Figures it would be in a place where there's like a half mile long driveway to a secluded property, where they probably had to plow their own driveway.
I don't know much about trucks, but I had a neighbor with a similar model, and I know this one uses diesel, which will be far easier to find than normal gas. Not that many vehicles out there use diesel.
The only drawback is, it uses a lot of it. Which means we (Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and I) need to double back to that station on our way into this little town, where they had a toppled stack of gas cans all over the doorway, holding it open.
I'm not crazy about going back there, it looked eerie. Like something serious went down not too long ago but if they weren't just sitting there in the doorway, I'd be more resistant.
Daryl and Maggie came around the other side of the car, standing on either side of me.
"Alright, how we gon' do this?" I followed Daryl's gaze to the house window and to the reason we didn't just use this bad boy to get back yesterday night (when we cut it too close to dark for comfort; not our fault those disgusting units are like a maze).
"Jesus," Glenn gripped his hooked machete a little tighter, staring through the dirty windows of the tan two-story house — which doesn't look all that big actually until you count the windows and realize there's gotta be like 9 rooms in this place, not counting main ones like the kitchen or living room.
On the other side of the glass, close to 8 walkers are wandering around, two of them pushing against the windows but their eyes must not be that great cause they don't seem anymore riled up with our presence than they were yesterday, when Daryl & I creeped out of the bushes.
"We opened the back door yesterday and let most of em out, but a few of em are still wanderin' around in there." Daryl narrowed his eyes a little, leaning forward on his front leg to try and see inside a little better.
"How are we supposed to get the truck outta there without drawing them to us?" Maggie asked as I glanced around, making sure we don't get snuck up on.
All eyes turned to Glenn and I, as we spent last night strategizing how we could get the truck out without walking into a herd that's decided to have a house party. My guess is, they must've chased something inside and it got trapped, eaten, and the doors must've close somehow so the walkers were the ones who got trapped inside.
"Alright, here's the plan." Glenn turned to face us. "Maggie, you and I are gonna draw the walkers to that end of the house." He pointed with his weapon to the far right end. "While Daryl boosts Eve through the window on the side of the garage. Once inside, she's gonna unlock the side door and let you in, one person providing cover while the other finds the keys, or hotwires the truck if you can't."
"What if things go south?" Maggie asked, squinting in the late morning sun.
"We get out. Try somethin' else later." Daryl said, leaving no room for argument. He really hasn't been playin' since the highway when he almost ran me over after I came this close to being left behind.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? A lot could go wrong." Maggie shifted on her feet, pulling her dark sleeved jacket around herself a little tighter and zipping it up a little higher. Speaking of which.
"This is the only one we've seen so far." Glenn reminded.
I zipped my jacket up, pulling my hair back and wrapping the tie as many times as it'll go. My skin prickled at the sudden cold on my bar skin, almost making a shiver run down my spine.
"We don' gotta choice. We got lucky with that first snow bein' light as it was. We can't afford not to have at least one vehicle that can clear a path." Daryl loaded his crossbow, making sure it was ready to go.
Glenn glanced around behind us, all 4 of us on high alert knowing that back door is open and there could be stragglers wandering all around this area.
Maggie still looks uneasy but nodded. "But wait, how are we gonna make enough noise to draw this whole house to that side? Yer gonna have to open the garage door manually too. It's gonna make a lot a noise. I don't think just banging on stuff or shoutin' is gonna be good enough to cover that. And what if they come out the back door instead, or walkers come outta the woods?"
My tongue poked into my cheek. Agh damnit, I didn't think about that. I was more focused on figuring out how to get them away so we could get to it.
A thoughtful silence descended, sometimes glancing between each other to have a silent conversation or just to absently study one another to see if someone might be onto something before us.
I did another scan around us before Glenn suddenly snapped his fingers. "We'll use the car."
"The car?" Daryl quirked an eyebrow as we all turned.
"We'll drive it around that side and use the horn. It's loud, and we'll be protected and if it gets too hairy, we'll drive through the back field and draw as many of them away as we can."
I don't like making last minute adjustments to plans because we haven't had time to think about possible consequences but we gotta get this done. We don't have the luxury of taking our own sweet time to think of a more clever/safer way to do this.
I nodded and we split into two teams, the two of them climbing back into the car.
"Ey," Daryl stopped Maggie from closing the passenger door. "As soon as ya hear another horn, get outta dodge."
The couple nodded and I pulled out my knives. The car door closed and I followed just next to Daryl in a light jog over the patchy half-dead, half dying lawn while they swung the car around and drove to the other side.
Daryl reached the open, cob-web covered high window about 3 feet away from the door I'll be unlocking. If only that door had a window and didn't have one of those fancy security locks on the handle or we could just break it.
He scanned the treeline that'll be at our backs in a second, while I sheathed my knives and picked up the old rake — which I accidentally knocked over yesterday during our perimeter scout — and used it to clear away at least some of those webs.
A weird shiver jolted my body at the thought of just jumping straight through those and the possibility of there still being something living in them.
I wouldn't say I'm afraid of spiders, but I'm afraid of spiders being on me. I'd rather not be distracted by that while I've gotta be stealthy behind enemy lines.
Daryl made a breathy noise and I glanced at him, shaking his head.
He caught my eyes and yes I stuck my tongue out at him, and no it wasn't so much to be a lil' shit and more to basically say 'shut up you would too I ain't crawling through spider webs on purpose unless you can promise me superpowers'.
'Dude, If I had Peter Parker's powers right now, I'd create the safest safe zone ever by making it so you can only get to it with spidey-strength, and like covering it with a web tunnel so anything that tries to get close will just get stuck and—'
A car horn blasted and I dropped the rake but thankfully plastic rakes falling 4 feet onto grass are not louder than a car horn (which is honking to the tune of — I think — Carol of the Bells but don't quote me on it).
I grimaced, biting my bottom lip as I looked back at Daryl. He gave me a deadpanned eye roll but shook his head like he expected it from me. I take offense to that. I'm not clumsy, really. Things just happen to and around me and I happen to be misfortunate sometimes.
Daryl propped his bow up against the painted grey cinder block wall and laced his fingers together in front of him.
I put my hands on his shoulders to steady as I put my left foot into his palms.
He boosted me up, easily — like way easier than I expected, I'm pretty sure that I'm not that light — and I pushed the edge of the window up higher.
Why they even made windows that open like hatches, I don't know.
It's not a big window. Maybe a foot and a half tall and two feet wide.
Small enough that if I don't turn my shoulders, I won't be able to fit — and forget about Daryl or any one of the other guys aside from Carl fitting through this.
My knee rested against Daryl's shoulder for support as I grabbed the ledge and looked through, making sure the coast is clear.
There's a door into the house directly across from the side door and — oh crap. There's a shelf in front of this window.
Like a shelf with a crap ton of tools and things on it. This could be a problem.
"What's wrong?" Daryl asked, keeping his voice low and glanced around to make sure we're not drawing attention to ourselves.
"Shelf." I whispered between honks, before reaching in to get a good grip on the ledge of it.
It's right up against the wall, which is good, and there's nothing blocking the window itself, but I can't see how stable the shelf is.
I shook it a little, not as worried about making a tiny bit of noise with Carol of the Bells honk edition covering me.
It didn't shake a lot, but I guess we'll see how well it holds 100+ lbs of human adult.
I put my right foot against the brick wall, trying for a little more leverage and relying on my upper arm strength to help me hold on but as soon as I tried to pull myself up, I knew it wasn't gonna be enough.
My hands can hold me like this but I don't have enough leverage to get my shoulder through and actually be able to get the rest of me in.
I glanced down at Daryl and he got the message, lifting my foot higher and pushing me upwards. My head bumped the window above me as he got my foot onto his shoulder and my diaphram all of a sudden hit the windowsill as he grabbed my other foot and pushed me.
I hissed under my breath, trying to keep quiet with my now newly refreshed bruises. They were this close to being healed up enough to not matter anymore. Hitting them last week on a staircase railing was my fault, I admit that, but this time it's on you Dixon.
A growl came from behind me and I barely managed to pull myself through to my hips, seal style, as Daryl's shoulder and presence underneath me altogether disappeared.
Automatically, I curled my legs up, lifting them as high as I can get away with cause I would very much not like to be grabbed while hanging halfway through a window the size of a chimney.
I scrambled to try and pull myself in further, but this shelf is only a foot big. It's plenty wide, but it's barely deep enough to get my torso on with a little help from the thick windowsill.
The room's empty at least, there's two cars; including the truck but I'm gonna have to use this shelf like a ladder if I wanna get down from here.
Thankfully the hard part was maneuvering myself to get a leg through the window so I could stand on the second to top shelf and get the rest of me through. It took a little bit of contorting and awkward — painful — work but I did it and managed to climb down without anymore trouble.
By the time my feet touched the ground again, I was winded.
I side stepped to the side door and unlocked the deadbolts, pushing it open and Daryl slipped inside; a fresh blood stain on the denim covering his knee and a visible body laying on the rake just over his shoulder.
I didn't think too much about it though and opted to get to the truck.
I pulled my knives and ran to the open door to the house while Daryl went to the truck.
It was sort of an unspoken decision beforehand because I don't know how to hotwire a truck and if we can't find the keys, it's just easier if he does this part.
I stepped one foot into the kitchen, watching the walkers on the other side of the room trying to bust through the windows like animals in an exhibit and grabbed the shiny steel door handle of this pastel yellow door and pulled it closed as quiet as possible.
Glenn must've gotten bored cause the songs changed but I don't recognize this one.
"Psst"
I looked glanced at Daryl and watched him closing the driver's door behind him, catching a glimpse of the keys in his hand.
Without an acknowledgement, I went straight to the center of the garage, sheathing my weapons and grabbed the red plastic dangley thing attached to a string.
I pulled it down and got a grip on the garage door before trying to lift it.
The metal dug into my fingers like a drill through the earth but it wasn't heavy enough I can't lift it.
I pushed it up and the second it cleared my line of sight, my stomach leapt into my windpipe. Almost eye to ey— open festering chest with the tallest walker I've ever seen.
My leg swung out without even thinking, aiming for center mass.
It's arms reached for me, fingertips grazing the apples of my cheeks right as my foot connected with it's side and the 6'5— something walker staggered sideways.
I threw myself to the side without even thinking, running for the truck and pain exploded in both of my shins, the concrete rushing up to meet me.
My hands shot out in front of me saving my face from the concrete floor but buckled and did little except absorb most of the impact.
I got family in town again (my house is so popular lol) so I didn't have much time for editing again this week, but I'm proud cause I wrote this whole chp in like a solid hour.
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