White Flag of the Dead
as near as I could tell, and he was in rough shape. His clothes were nearly gone, hanging in shreds from his body. Raw wounds covered his torso, and his left leg sported a six inch gash that went completely around it. Maggots covered the wounds, and fell off every time he lurched one way or the other. He hadn’t noticed me yet as I hadn’t moved, and I began to wonder about their sense of sight. If you didn’t attract attention to yourself, and they couldn’t hear you or smell you, it seemed you were just part of the scenery.
    I checked the clip and chambered a round, the bolt sounding loud in the stillness. The zombie’s head turned my way, and he groaned when he finally saw me. I lined up the sights on his head as he came closer, and when he was no further than fifteen feet away, at the base of the hill my fence sat on, I fired the round at his head. The shot echoed off the condominiums across the way, and a neat little hole appeared in his forehead. He collapsed without another sound.
    “That worked well.” I said to myself as I heard answering groans coming from across the way. Three more zombies came stumbling out from the condo’s parking lot, seeking the source of the noise. I waited until the first one came near and then dropped it with a shot to the head. I was still hidden in the tree branches, so they hadn’t quite zeroed in on where I was. The second was a bit further out, about twenty yards, but I tried it anyway. It too, fell with a round to the head. I wondered what the true effective range was, and tried a shot at about fifty yards. The zombie’s head jerked, but he didn’t go down. I waited for him to get closer, then I hit him again. This time he went down for good. I could see that the first shot had hit him, but the bullet had not penetrated the skull, but traveled around the skull under the skin. Not pretty, but a lesson learned. .22’s were good for close in work, and they had to get hit straight on.
    I didn’t hear any more groans, so I stepped off the chair and started back toward the house; as I did, a figure suddenly appeared in the window of my neighbors’ house. I was startled enough to raise my weapon and get a sight picture before I realized it was Erica, my neighbor’s daughter. She raised both hands and her eyes got really huge. I lowered the weapon and gave her a thumbs- up, hoping it was reassuring. She smiled and waved, and retreated from the window. I went back inside and spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what I was going to do about my stairs.

6

    During the night, the gas turned off. I didn’t realize it until morning, when I went to take a quick shower that hot water was gone. This was not convenient. Not unexpected, but still inconvenient. Well, it was only a matter of time. Jake was going to have to get used to some room-temperature baths. I filled a gallon jug and placed it in the sun, figuring it would help a little. Jake was a little trooper; in his world, as long as daddy was around and somebody, didn’t matter who, changed his diapers, his day was golden.
    Speaking of diapers, I realized that things were critical when it came to diapers. I needed to get another supply and do it today. I didn’t want to have to leave the homestead, but I needed some things and I needed to go as soon as possible before everything had been looted and taken. I wasn’t sure about the looting, but with police pretty much non-existent, and the National Guard pulled back to the safe center, if there was one. People were pretty much on their own. And as any disaster survivor will tell you, calamity brings out the best and worst in people. That’s just the way it was. Besides, I needed to get out there and see just how bad things were. For all I knew, it wasn’t too bad. Yeah right, and maybe I’ll be named king next week.
    I packed Jakey up in his car seat and got myself ready. I had my big crowbar out in the car, and I had my ever-present SIG. I took my Winchester with

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