Thump, thump, thump. Eric bolted up pointing the barrel of his gun out in front of him as he searched for the threat. It took his sleepy eyes a few seconds to adjust before he realized that there was nothing at the foot of the couch to be afraid of. There was nothing there at all. He let out a pent up breath and yawned. He tried rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he let the gun in his right hand settle against his right thigh. Eric put his feet on the floor and tried to shake away the remains of sleep that were clawing at his mind trying to coax him back into the empty void of dreams.
Thump, thump, thump. Eric felt the vibrations through the wooden frame of the couch and turned around to look at Sanchez who was half sitting on the back of the couch and half standing. The man looked a little haggard and had a day’s beard starting to sprout on his face. “Get up, time to send out the welcome wagon,” with that Sanchez slid off the back of the couch and headed towards the front door. Eric scratched at his head for a second feeling the oil coating his hair and making his hair stand up in erratic spikes across his scalp. He grabbed his shirt which he had been using as a pillow and gave it a few shakes to throw off a few of the wrinkles before putting his arms through the sleeves.
Using the back of his hand Eric stifled another yawn and then headed to the front door which Sanchez had left hanging open. A rapid trickle of thudding footsteps preceded the rush of the other survivors as they started filtering out of the house. Eric managed to squeeze out ahead of the rush of bodies coming down the stairs.
Out on the porch the early spring light was trying to case away the cold winter wind but was making little headway. Frost covered the windshields of the four cars parked in the front yard and gave the needles of the pine trees a white glossy sheen. Sanchez was standing at the bottom of the front steps, Kirk was seated midway up the stairs and Fred was standing be one of the pillars holding up the porch roof. They mechanic and the younger cop looked a little tense and were unconsciously fidgeting with their guns but Sanchez almost looked happy.
Eric navigated the stairs making sure not to bump Kirk as he pulled back the slide of his pistol double checking that a round was in the chamber. “So boss,” Eric said to Sanchez. Eric figured that if the Hispanic officer was going to continue to call him Kid then he’d give the middle aged cop a nickname of his own. “You want to tell me what it is we’re doing out here and why you look so damn happy. It’s the end of the world you know.”
Sanchez turned to Eric with a barely contained smile on his face. The easy mirth that was bubbling in the officer’s chest infused every single one of his words as he spoke, “This is our reinforcements, and my Madre.”
“No crap. Your mom survived this craziness? That’s great news man.” Eric didn’t have time to envy Sanchez, it was enough of a victory for him that anyone’s loved ones had survived and were going to be reunited. “But how do you know?”
The lead officer smiled at Eric before speaking, “yesterday when you went to the gym with Fred I made a phone call to her. I told her what was happening here in town. She lives with my Brother out in Rearden and after telling him what was happening and them confirming it on the news he agreed with my plan of action.”
“And what plan was that?” Eric didn’t mind that Sanchez hadn’t shared his plan with him. The two had just met and even if they had worked to saved each other’s lives that kind of trust especially when it came to family took a long time to earn.
“They went around to their neighbors and the town and talked as many people as they could into coming here in the morning. I don’t think it took much convincing. Armando, my brother said the news reported that this kind of thing is happening everywhere. Seattle, L.A, Portland, Las Vegas, New York, whatever it is its everywhere.”
“Any idea how many people we should expect to show up here?” Eric was sure that any more than another dozen people wouldn’t be able to sleep in the house comfortably and I wasn’t looking forward to the idea of sleep in his truck or outside. Spring hadn’t shaken off the shackles of winter yet and it was going to stay cold for a few more weeks still.
“I don’t know but they town is pretty small, a few hundred people and I’m sure not all of them would abandon their homes.” While Sanchez spoke Eric was trying to work out the math in his head. Even if half the town came that might mean two hundred more people. That raised any number of potentials and concerns.
Eric was going to ask Sanchez if he had any other surprised but at that moment the creak and groan of car suspensions trundling over the deep ruts of the frozen dirt road broke through the wall of trees. Eric watched in barely contained excitement. Sure it might be a burden to accommodate so many people but the more survivors they found the better off their small community would be. And in order to survive and thrive they’d need every able bodied person whether it was cooking meals, sewing clothes, or killing zombies. Everyone who could do something would be asked to.
The first truck swung around the curve and came into view. The beast was a late 80’s model V8 truck. A Sierra or something, it was a monster on wheels. There were splatters of blood on its grill and a few dents in its fender. The refugees from Rearden had apparently seen some action on their way to Sanchez’s haven.
Eric could see the face of a man over the steering wheel of the truck. He had a tan complexion and waved at Sanchez as he came into view. The guy behind the wheel looked to be about ten years younger than Sanchez with a full mustache but no beard. Sitting next to the younger version of Sanchez was a woman with large glasses and a few strands of grey hair streaking through the long black locks of hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. As Sanchez’s brother pulled the truck around and parked it next to the patrol car the older woman with the glasses threw open the passenger door and sprinted towards Sanchez with the energy of a woman barely half her age. Sanchez ran to her and plucked the woman off the ground as he wrapped her deep in his arms.
Feeling like a voyeur watching the tender moment between Sanchez and his mother Eric turned away to look at the other survivors clustered around the front door. It was unlikely that any of them would get to have a similar experience. That was a hard pill to swallow, Eric choked back the tears he felt stinging his eyes, some weren’t able to contain the tears. The two women that had been rescued from the gym wrapped their arms around one another’s shoulders and went back into the house.
The thump of heavy boots on the stairs of the porch brought Eric out of his grief. Sanchez had his arm around the shoulders of the older woman who was using Sanchez’s body as much as the railing along the short steps to support herself as she climbed the steps. Sanchez had a radiant grin on his face and unashamed tears rolling down his fat cheeks. “Everyone this is my mother.”
Eric had a hard time recalling much of his high school Spanish. He had regretted his casual disregard for the language classes over the years and was now woefully embarrassed that he couldn’t communicate with his gentle old woman. “Hola Senora Sanchez.”
The old woman looked at her older son a moment before turning back to Eric and spoke with more than a slight hint of surprise in her words, “hablas espanol?”
“Peqino , a little” was all Eric could say. The older woman smiled and stretched out her arms. Eric let himself be hugged by the old woman he had just met. It felt good, more so than Eric had expected. A small part of him buried deep within his chest knew that this woman had now become his mother. His biological mother was either dead or fighting for her life. That thought shattered the dam he had built to hold back his emotions and he freely wept into the crux of the woman’s shoulder.
She caressed his back and spoke softly to his in Spanish, most were words he couldn’t remember, the only snatches he could make out was her repetition of poor baby as her gnarled old hands gently rubbed circles across his back. It was several long grief filled moments before she pulled away from him. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes with her gentle eyes behind her large glasses. “Eres bien? You’re good?”
“Si Senora.” Eric straightened himself up and looked the old lady’s son in the eyes. The grisly cop looked back at Eric with compassionate eyes.
“We should go inside Eric; there is a lot we have to plan for.” Sanchez had assumed the mantle of leadership for their little group and Eric was more than happy to let him have it. Because of Sanchez and his planning they had survived the first day among the dead. “Fred and Kirk will you help my brother Armando get everything cleared up. I think we are going to have a lot of things to sort out as more people start showing up.
Indeed if the rumble of engines was any indication then there were dozens of cars and trucks stretched out along the dirt road waiting to enter this feeble haven they had established.