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I WENT SPYING.


As usual, I was up before dawn. As the sky lightened behind the mountains, I bundled up against the cold. Near 0 degrees F, brr. BD was NOT happy, he knew he wasn’t coming along.


Bow in the left hand, arrow nocked, quiver over left shoulder. Hatchet in the belt on right, knife sheathed on left. Axe in right hand, bug spray in left pocket- hey, I don’t know what might work. Two lighters in right pocket, to turn bug spray into blowtorch.


As I knew from my trip to town, the horde had travelled on the driveway and down to the main road. The fresh skiff of snow made tracking easy. I was terrified, really, with no idea what I would find or find out.


I stopped at the road to engage all my senses. The tracks showed all kinds of footwear, from boots to slippers to bare feet. If they can walk barefoot in this weather, they are not susceptible to cold. So- smoke should point to humans. Good.


The cold seemed to erase all scent, but when I bent down near the tracks I caught a slight odor. It was nasty, like something dead and rotten.


The trail led more or less straight across the road then down a private drive with narrow bands of trees on both sides.











I continued past the two side driveways, so I knew they went as far as the Gonzalez family compound. I hadn’t visited for years, but I remembered there were 3 houses- the parents, a grown son, and a daughter and her family- all around a central covered courtyard.


I crept down to where the road cut right to the Gonzalez driveway, with only a footpath continuing down to the river. When I stopped to listen, the sun broke over the mountains and turned the snow to blinding white jewels.


It wasn’t easy to force myself to the final approach. The smell became more noticeable with every step. I heard the slightest rustling noise. I had to see what I was up against.


The courtyard was enclosed with tall adobe walls, accessible either from the houses or a tall gate with two large wooden doors that opened outward. The left side of the gate hung slightly open.








Some more deep breaths, then I crept toward the hinged side of the open door. Very slowly, I stood until I could just see over the low side of the arch.


Bizarre- just the weirdest scene I’ve ever witnessed. A horde of around 30 clustered at the back of the courtyard, just standing there, some swaying slightly.


Damn, they were ugly- and smelly. I felt a brief twinge of pity for these empty creatures that were once human.


But then I thought of Stevie, and the deli workers, and my whole town of nice people decimated to – this. They were all stained with blood and filth. Their eyes were completely vacant and unfocused.


This was too easy a target. I shot a broadhead into the neck of an older-looking creature in a bathrobe wearing one slipper. It sort of went “ooph” and swayed a bit- and that was all.


A bit of dark stickiness oozed around the arrow’s shaft. The zombie wheezed a little. None of the others even moved. It seemed I couldn’t make these creatures bleed to death.


I wasn’t game to approach closer with just a can of bug spray and some weapons I knew wouldn’t work. But I learned two valuable lessons: The horde is completely vulnerable during the day.


And they breathe.