Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales by Valerie Lioudis, Kristopher Lioudis Page B

separating him and I. Now I could see the rotting arm pushing through the fence. The moaning sounded like it was in stereo by now. There was at least one more of them, probably more.
    I hauled ass across the yard and grabbed the paper from the fence. I shoved it into my shirt, and another arm reached over the fence towards me. I needed to get back into the house, back to safety. Climbing up onto the grill was awkward. It took me a good three tries to get up there. I started to question my ability to get over the fence a second time. I yelled to Garett, who was on the roof looking panicked.
    “How many Garett?”
    “5!”
    That was enough to get my ass in gear. With a burst of energy that can only be brought on by terror, I flung my upper body up enough to basically roll over the top of the fence. As I smashed in to the tower of table and chairs that I had haphazardly assembled, the small herd of the dead pushed their way through the Henderson’s fence. Now they were going to work their way through my fence. I needed to get inside, and get quiet. Garett raised the gun, and I motioned for him not to fire. All it would do is bring more of them towards us. The gunshot would be heard for miles.
    I tried to stand, but my ankle had twisted horribly in the fall. Nothing was ever easy these days, stupid bullshit is what it is. I drug myself foot by foot across the yard. The herd was moaning in a frenzy on the other side of my piece of crap fence. I could hear them pulling at the planks to get through, and it was only a matter of time before they did. I didn’t look back, if they were going to eat me then so be it, but I was not going to lose any time looking back to see if it was inevitable. Just a few more feet to go, and I heard the first solid cracking sound. They had broken one of the slats off of the fence.
    It took everything in me to get up the steps, and pull the barricade off to get back in to the house. Once in, I nailed and then screwed our layers of wood back up. The noise I was making would only make them follow, but we needed that thick wall between us and them. Garett tapped my shoulder, and I almost bludgeoned him to death with the hammer. He seemed unfazed at the close call he just had, and picked up tools and started helping me. Once we were secure, if you can even be secure, he helped me hobble up the stairs.
    My ankle felt like someone was stabbing me in the joint with a hot poker. I asked Garett to grab one of our precious instant cold packs and some ibuprophen before we made our way up to the attic. Once we were there I finally felt safe. The sound of the attic steps being retracted and the hatch closed is the closest thing we have to music these days. Hannah and Zoe slid through the hole in the roof to see how I was. They were nice enough to get me comfortable and medicated before asking about the paper. For that I was extremely grateful.
    I pulled the paper out of my shirt. It was a simple black and white flyer. “39.6436°N 74.6474°W. Quarantine will be required upon arrival. Our supplies are limited. It is recommended that you bring all essentials and food, water, medicine and gas. All other supplies are also welcome. We hope to see you soon, and stay safe.” There was a basic map drawn at the bottom of the flyer. I expected more. Maybe some answers, but there were none.
    I read the flyer aloud to the children and I could see their excitement. They didn’t understand the logistics of getting to this supposed sanctuary. We were running low on our supplies, but we were fortified. We didn’t know what we were going to meet on the road. There was no guarantee that we would even make it. Fuel was hard to come by, and it wasn’t right around the corner. We would have to find a route that took us as far away from cities as possible, and that would add to our distance. I wondered if it was worth the risk.
    “We should leave tomorrow.”
    “Not a chance, Garett. My ankle needs a few days’ rest. We need to