Free Jacob's Odyssey (The Berne Project Book 1) by Russ Melrose Page B

topsy turvy. Alex and I had occasionally played hooky on days like this when we were in college together, usually opting for Park City and a few cold Buds in one of the bars on Main Street. The cooler mountain air was always a nice respite from a hot summer day in the valley, and during the summer months, Park City wasn't overrun with tourists and skiers.
    From the backyard porch, I had a great view of the Wasatch Mountains, especially Mount Olympus. Mount Olympus was the highest peak in the Salt Lake Valley and its upper third was beautifully stubbled with Ponderosa Pine and Douglas-Fir. The mountains were a verdant green this year thanks to a generous snowfall from the past winter. And even in a deteriorating, apocalyptic world, the mountains were still breathtakingly beautiful. I'd always thought the valley was as Edenlike as any place on earth. The mountains had always been the thing I loved most about living in the valley. No matter where you were in the Salt Lake Valley, you had a view of the mountains, the Oquirrh Mountains to the West and the Wasatch Mountains to the east. The valley was cradled by the mountains in a way that had always felt comforting to me. But not anymore. While they were still beautiful, the mountains had become like silent sentinels, keeping everyone trapped in the valley. But the mountains hadn't changed. They were steadfast as always, indifferent to the folly of human drama.
    *****
    The house was perfect. No one was living here. All the curtains and shades were open as if nothing had ever happened, as if everything were still normal. The house had a single lock which would make breaking into the house a piece of cake. I made it a practice to avoid homes with dead bolts or a back door with two locks. And as I traveled through the valley, I was shocked at how many homes there were to choose from. With all the abandoned homes, it was easy to find homes with a single lock. I also made sure to avoid homes with screen doors. Screen doors were squeaky and would likely alert any infected in the area.
    My preference for homes included basements and upstairs. While it was a pain to have to scout out three floors to make sure a home was secure, basements and upstairs held great advantages. The basement was the safest area of the home as long as it had windows to the backyard that were easy to exit from if the need arose, and I found it easy to relax in basements. I could walk around without having to worry about being seen by the infected. As long as I made sure to keep the door to the basement closed and locked if possible, basements made for perfectly safe havens. If there were ever any suspicious noises coming from upstairs, I could always make a hasty retreat out a back window into the relative safety of a backyard. Other than the day at Alex's house when they were about to bust through the fence, I'd yet to run across any infected in a fenced backyard.
    Having an upstairs was important as a lookout in the mornings because I could see further down the street from an upstairs window than I could from a living room picture window. Upstairs windows offered a better angle and a more comprehensive view. If there were a large group of the infected nearby, I'd likely be able to spot them. I avoided large packs of the infected at all costs. If I spotted a big group of infected, I'd alter my route for the day, making sure to stay a few blocks clear of them. The more infected there were, the less chance I had of getting cleanly away. Using my binoculars, I could usually see as far as two blocks down the street.
    I was drifting in and out of a daydream when the air conditioner switched on. It caught me off guard. I collected myself and moved to the back door, making sure the gun was within reach. After my first night out, I'd decided the Glock was the best option in the sometimes tight confines of a home. Even though a gunshot would draw the infected, I could escape out the back door and put plenty of distance