Running Up That Hill
Prelude
Aspen Mayors
"You're scared of a game of strip poker?" I chided to him, "we're adults, there is booze and I love to gamble." I lie, "plus, we should be grateful we aren't in that storm right now, and managed to get a 'bountiful harvest' at that food distribution place." Crossing my arms like a child with confidence at my ability to make it another day.
"I ain't scared." Daryl retorted, "it's just not my thing." Turning around he started to stoke the wood burning stove in the storm shelter below my house.
I never thought I would be using the storm shelter in my home. Coming from Arizona, you don't see storms like this unless you're up north, like Flagstaff or Show Low, even then, this storm puts them to shame. We managed to just make it back before the blizzard ate us at the gate, I was nearly breaking a sweat walking to my house and by that time it was whiteout conditions in the small community. Abandoning the box van after closing the gate behind us, we had to tether arms to not loose one another. Since I was closest to the gate we went there, but I left my keys inside the box van in a rush so we ended up in the storm cellar, or storm shelter? Whichever, we here now.
Speaking of which, you're probably wondering how I got here. Locked up in the storm cellar of my 'mini mansion', at home in Alexandria, it's actually really funny now that I think of it. See I was out scavenging with one of the group members, Daryl. We had been out further than usual on a lead from someone we had taken in last week, a fellow from Roanoke. There was a small distribution center for local grocers with canned goods, meds, although probably expired, and sorely needed items back in Roanoke. They sent me with him since it was supposed to be a day and a half trip, half day out and load up overnight and head out early afternoon, that way we got some semblance of sleep in the early morning hours. The less people out the better, we needed everyone at home and since this wasn't meant to be a big trip it made sense to get out from the daily mundane around here, for me at least. I haven't been out the gate in two months.
He was up ahead on his bike most the trip, and I drove the box van. It was a nice ride out, although I miss being passenger and watching the scenery roll by out the window. Then the storm, Mary, appeared in the distance, about a half hour after we arrived. We were over 200 miles from home, many back roads and two highways to get to Roanoke. We usually never go this far, but since we hadn't had trouble in a long while at home, the reward outweighed the risk. Plus, having music to sing along to was good. I managed to keep my old phone with all my music on it this whole time, it has a cracked screen but who really cares now.
After arriving and taking a long look at the impeding storm, Daryl calculated we had just enough time to load up the box truck and head out before nightfall, meaning there wouldn't be any sleep. It turned into a rushed mess. Luckily there hadn't been any walkers in sight today, just the few out in the fields as we drove here. They seem to be dwindling down these days, after all, it's been 12 years since the infection started now.
After clearing out a small hoard of walkers inside, and making sure the door was secure to the main building we got to work. "Grab those boxes of Tylenol, Motrin and the rest of what is over there," he directed at me, "anything medication wise grab. I'll get this old pallet jack to work with the battery from the van and then start on loading these pallets of shit." Grunting as he hoisted the spare battery from below the driver side door.
He managed to jump the long sitting electric pallet jack and maneuvered two pallets to the edge of the dock. "We need the metal ramp, this is too wide of a gap, everything will fall off the edge." Searching for the metal ramp that usually gets placed between the truck and the dock he sighs. "Fuck it. Aspen, go back the truck up against the wall, I don't care if it gets a dent. Stupid truck anyways, bring the battery back with you. We need to get out of here before it gets any windier and the storm comes."
I jumped down and Daryl handed me the battery. Putting it in its place below the driver side, I climbed up into the truck and turned it over, put in reverse and backed up to the dock, hitting the taillights and smashing them, after hearing Daryl yell a 'that'll do' I put it in park and turn it off.
Two hours had passed and it was a blustery late afternoon, the clock on my old phone read 5pm, it was nearing dark during the winter months. We managed to knock out most of the supplies into the truck. Diapers, meds, even some luxury items like candles, "these will be gifts for Christmas," I said giddy adding them to the front of the truck, for safe keeping of course.
"We've got one last thing to fit, my bike. Ain't no way in Hell I am riding in this shit." He pulled the truck from the dock to an even surface, and pulled out the smaller metal ramp within the truck bed. It was a U-Haul truck that they had before I ever arrived to Alexandria, a sturdy work horse of a truck or van? Whichever. Hoisting his bike up he kick started it and revved the engine, "shit, she's cold."
"I thought you weren't riding?" I asked, amused at his reaction to the brisk air, small flakes beginning to fall. I closed the loading dock door, to hide the remaining supplies, "we can make a trip later on when the snow clears, seems this is the start of our snow season here." I added to my prior question.
"I'm not, but it's too steep to push her up, I'm gonna have to ride her in and hope I don't crash into the shit we packed." He responded, yelling over the bike he revved it up once more and ascended the ramp in one swift movement. "Just enough room in here too, we should be good to go," putting the kick stand down and strapping the bike through one of the ceiling rods for stability. He jumped out and closed the door, locking it with the lock and moving the ramp back in place. "We will be back for the rest, lots of canned goods. Hopefully they do well in freezing temperatures. We ain't ever had a cold front like this."
From the side there were a few walkers coming around the building as we grabbed the rest of our stuff to the load up in the truck, "leave 'em." He said firmly, "We need to get the hell outta dodge. I'll drive."
Climbing into the passenger seat I felt giddy, I get to enjoy the scenery outside once again.
All rights, characters and names listed in this work of fiction belong to AMC, The Walking Dead, except my OC, I do not own any other part of this story.
