Buck Bradley – Utility Shed
Buck’s eyes slowly blinked open. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only rest his eyes for a few minutes. He shook his head, silently berating himself for the potentially fatal blunder. These days you never could be too careful, even if you were under cover. His whole body groaned as he rolled off of the folded tarp that had served as his bed. It definitely wasn’t the most comfortable place he had ever slept, but after his experiences the last few months it wasn’t the worst either.
He rubbed his face roughly with both hands. He had dreamed of that night again. It had been almost two months, but the images were still vivid. He had been asleep then too, only to be awakened by the sound of screams and gunshots. He didn’t realize it then, but they had let themselves get too comfortable. Let their guard down, even for just a moment. That was their mistake. Impulsive as always he had immediately grabbed his 2x4 from its place at his side, dashed outside without a word, leaving behind the girl. The children.
Outside it had been chaos. People and walkers everywhere. Somehow they had gotten through their defenses. He had done his best to try to help, but in the darkness and confusion he quickly found himself isolated. Then he had fallen, rolled down a steep bank and into a ditch. He must have hit his head pretty hard because when he came to everything was quiet. He laid three-quarters of the way inside a culvert. His own dumb luck falling had saved him from any passing walkers.
He made his way quickly back to the camp, but everyone was gone. Every vehicle they had salvaged – gone. He searched every building in the area but there was not a trace of another survivor. He knew people had to have escaped – who else would have driven off in the vehicles? For a week he waited for them to return. He busied himself gathering and burning the many bodies that littered the area. It was hard work – but it kept him occupied. After a week had past he made up his mind that no one was coming back. He set off on his own in the direction he assumed they had gone.
That was two months ago. In that time he hadn’t found one clue of what had happened to his friends. Every day his hope wore a little more thin, to the point that now he had accepted the fact that he would remain alone. Some days that really bothered him. Other days he considered it beneficial. Whatever the case, there was no denying it: Buck Bradley was on his own.
Sighing heavily he got to his feet. A couple of days back he had discovered a box of chocolate chip granola bars in an abandoned car. He had made short work of them. He would need to find food again soon. That would require going outside – sacrificing what little security the shed offered him. Resigning himself to the task he picked up his 2x4 and headed to the door.
For a couple of minutes he just stood there quietly, listening. These past few months had trained him to always listen first before acting, whether in dealing with people or walkers. When he heard nothing he pushed the door open a crack to have a look around. Nothing. Not a person living or dead as far as he could see. Quietly he slipped out of the shed, making sure not to let the door bang shut behind him. In the short time he had been here he hadn’t encountered anyone else, but one could never be too careful.
The night was clear enough that he could make his way along the street with relative ease. He had come into this area a couple of days ago and gone through any vehicles and buildings immediately surrounding the shed he had made his home. His searching turned up nothing of great value. There were however, a few larger buildings a bit farther in the distance that looked like they might hold some promise. He made his way towards those now. Quiet night, he thought to himself. Just like the night…
He stopped abruptly in the middle of his thought. There, in one of those distant buildings he had been headed for, lights were flashing to life one at a time. His jaw dropped and his brow furrowed. What was happening? He stood there for a few moments, not sure whether to keep going or turn back. It didn’t take him long to decide. If there were lights there, there must be power. And if there was power there, there could be food. In the end his stomach won out and he continued on, as quickly and quietly as he could manage.