The Undead Chronicles | Vol. 3 | Dead of Winter by O'Brian Patrick J

Author:O'Brian, Patrick J. [O'Brian, Patrick J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2021-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Early December

Metzger grew accustomed to knowing the date and time on a regular basis thanks to Isabella’s parents and their use of clocks and calendars in every building on the property. Phyllis and Harold grabbed the necessities whenever they raided a store or abandoned home, but they also took items that kept their lives a little more normal.

“Keeps us sane,” Harold sometimes said.

Winter came early in the mountains, and Metzger had volunteered to take over the duties of scouring through nearby towns, particularly businesses and homes that hadn’t been looted yet. People didn’t tend to gravitate to the Adirondacks, because both creatures and the undead occupied the woods, ready and willing to devour the living.

Travel up and down the mountain proved challenging, despite having paved roads, because snow removal no longer existed on a larger scale. Harold occasionally used his tractor to clear paths between buildings, and around the start of the road downward, but he couldn’t spare the fuel to travel very far down the road.

On this particular morning, melting icicles dripped water from tree branches onto the ground as a warm front swept through the area. Metzger knew snow remained a possibility between the months of October and April for much of the state, so he decided only a few trips remained to forage for goods down the mountain. After dressing for the weather, he stepped outside and cleared off the gray Prius, prepared to take it into some areas Harold marked on a map that hadn’t been checked.

“I’m going with you,” Timmons said, joining him in the parking lot and wiping an arm across the windshield of the car, pushing the snow away.

Timmons wore an insulated parka and a pair of duck boots he found during one of their earlier runs, to shield his feet from cold and wetness.

“This should be a quick run,” Metzger said, wiping off the driver’s side window and seeing his own bearded face after a month without shaving or trimming it back. “There’s no need to risk it.”

“You wanted me to prove my intentions, right? This is how I do it.”

“You’ve been doing your fair share around here, Scott. And you know I trust you.”

Timmons continued wiping down portions of the car with his parka sleeve. Snow throughout the parking lot became a white mush in the early morning hours, easy to step through, but not ideal for driving certain vehicles.

Within a day of their arrival, everyone was provided with sleeping quarters in one of the cabins behind the main building. During daytime hours, everyone utilized the building for cooking, gatherings, or reading. Harold converted one of the smaller rooms in the main building into a pantry, and sometimes a member of the group cooked for the others. Metzger questioned how their life off the grid compared to a vacation in the area before zombies roamed the planet. Never in his life had he listened to so many compact discs, or read so many novels. Like the others, he sometimes perused books that helped with their situation by telling them how to build, grow, or cook certain items.

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