The Undead Chronicles | Vol. 3 | Dead of Winter, page 13
part #3 of The Undead Chronicles Series
“Locked,” she said when she turned to the others.
She tried the main entrance with similar results, and Metzger felt encouraged that someone cared enough to secure the building.
Only when the group walked up some decorative stone stairs behind the main building, did the resort’s entire form begin to reveal itself. Behind the building they found ten cabins, set a reasonable distance apart, an outdoor swimming pool that nature had reclaimed with leaves floating in the green water, and a barn farther back on the hill, behind the cabins. Although one might call them cabins, the buildings before them appeared more like miniature houses with windows, paint, and chimneys. Metzger thought they looked like upscale summer camp buildings, painted conservative colors like powder blue, yellow, and a tasteful lime green.
Everyone stood at the edge of the rear property, observing the setting before them. No one dared speak, fearing they’d made a trip for nothing, and Isabella’s parents might be buried somewhere behind the barn, or worse, walking with the dead.
“We have guns,” Timmons noted, looking to Isabella. “Call to them and see what happens.”
Isabella looked to him as though uncertain she wanted to know the truth. From experience, Metzger could relate, but he also didn’t want them wasting time while his brother’s location remained uncertain.
“Mom?” she called, loudly enough that anyone in the cabins or main building could hear. “Dad?”
Everyone waited a moment, drawing deep breaths until a door opened in the green house on the left side. A couple stepped outside, each toting a shotgun, and it required mere seconds for them to recognize Isabella. Lowering their defenses, they ran over to give both her and their grandson a hug, almost in unison. Metzger noticed they both sported graying hair as the apocalypse didn’t allow for trips to a stylist for hair coloring or routine trims.
Isabella finally turned to the group once hugging and kissing ended to make formal introductions.
“Everyone, this is my mother, Phyllis, and my father, Harold.”
She then introduced Metzger, whom they remembered from the wedding, and one other family occasion, Jillian, and Timmons.
“Captain Timmons is a Navy pilot,” she added.
“Do you know Bryce?” Phyllis inquired.
“We met only briefly, ma’am,” he answered politely, drawing stares from everyone around him.
“Phyllis,” she corrected him.
Timmons nodded courteously.
Phyllis Padgett possessed only a few strands of strawberry blonde hair, though her figure had given way as she neared the age of sixty. Appearing healthy, she carried a few extra pounds that most people in the apocalypse weren’t afforded. She wore comfortable sweatpants and a floral top, undoubtedly a public faux pas before the world changed. Bryce always seemed to like her, though she’d rubbed him the wrong way a few times, saying her only daughter was chained to the military because of her husband.
As for Harold Padgett, he seemed very laid back by comparison to his wife, with only a handful of red strands left to his graying hair. He wore dark work pants, his choice before and after the apocalypse, and a button-up shirt with long sleeves. Metzger recalled him often wearing baseball caps of New York sports teams, like the Bills, or the Bisons out of Buffalo. Today, up in the mountains, he donned no such headgear despite the cooling temperatures. A tall, wiry man, he possessed strength enough to hoist his grandson off the ground at will, and always displayed excellent work ethic.
“Why the hell are you staying out here?” Isabella questioned her parents once everyone had settled down, referring to the green cabin.
“It’s safer, dear,” her mother replied.
“Safer?”
“Everyone wants to target the main building,” Harold added. “They don’t give a shit about the cottages.”
“How many visitors have you had?” Metzger asked.
“Not many,” Phyllis answered. “We’ve scared off one or two live ones, and Harold dealt with the few braindead vermin.”
“Let’s get them inside, dear,” Harold suggested. “They’re probably half-starved and ready for hot showers.”
“Hot showers?” Timmons questioned, as though asking for clarification if they were pulling his leg or being truthful.
“We have solar panels,” Harold answered proudly. “And the barn up the hill has real animals. This place was created to be self-sufficient, even before all of this, because we couldn’t just hop in the truck and shop. And no one wanted to deliver all the way up here to us.”
Metzger looked beyond the main building, and down the mountain where he felt like he could roll for days before stopping if the trees weren’t in his path. It felt a bit dizzying knowing how high he was above civilization, and it became readily apparent why former guests wouldn’t attempt the trek, even if they knew the secrets harbored by the resort.
“Blue Mountain Resort,” Metzger read the large wooden sign aloud, spying it in the parking area near the main building.
“The lake and the museum aren’t incredibly far from here,” Phyllis noted as she walked past him to unlock the side door to the building.
“Museum?” Nathan questioned. “Neat! I wanna see it!”
“There’ll be time for that later,” Phyllis replied. “You’re going to have plenty to keep you busy up here.”
Over the course of the next hour, everyone unpacked what clothing and weapons they possessed from each Prius. Part of the main building was a front desk area for check-ins, some offices, and a residential area for the manager of the grounds. In the end, it turned out Phyllis and Harold ran the resort and stayed in the main building.
“What happened to the owners?” Timmons asked when the entire entourage gathered in the main lobby, some opting to stand after the long drive.
“We heard from them twice,” Phyllis replied. “They were going to drive up here, knowing the safe haven they’d created, but they never arrived.”
“A few of the kids that worked for us went off to find their families, but they never came back either,” Harold added. “We’ve been alone much of the time.”
“No offense,” Timmons said, “but I’d be much obliged if you’d point the way to the hot showers.”
“Go to the back and upstairs,” Harold said with a chuckle.
Timmons gave an informal salute and headed that way, leaving the others to converse in the lobby that provided all kinds of natural light because the resort sat above most of the trees. With the front being floor to ceiling windows, with only a few support columns in between the panes, light flooded the room during daylight hours.
“I have to ask the burning question, dear,” Phyllis said to Isabella. “Where is your husband?”
By the time Isabella caught her parents up on the entire saga of Bryce’s return, the missions to Buffalo, and the issues at Naval Station Norfolk, Timmons had returned from a refreshing shower. With his hair still wet, the pilot wore clean blue jeans and brown cowboy boots, which he packed specifically for the trip. Metzger didn’t understand much about the pilot, except that he remained stuck in his ways, regardless of how much the world changed.
“So, we’re waiting it out with you until he travels here, or the situation changes,” Isabella concluded.
“Why would he volunteer for that mission a second time?” Phyllis questioned.
“Because we got close to finding the prick responsible for all of this,” Metzger answered, failing to disguise his discontent. “We got them all of the information and they turned on both of us.”
“I hate to tell either of you this, but the chances of him coming all the way up here are slim to none,” Phyllis said.
“We know,” Isabella said. “I just needed to keep Nathan away from what’s out there.”
Metzger excused himself from the conversation a few minutes later, opting to head upstairs for a hot shower. Amazed at the cleanliness of the main building, he couldn’t believe they possessed electricity, hot water, and the means to create food on a daily basis. Part of the conversation revealed a greenhouse just beyond the barn that produced fruits and vegetables. Winter might hinder the process a little, but they could still maintain an ample food supply.
On his way through, he found a common area in the back, complete with an indoor pool and a hot tub that appeared fully functional and clean. Drawing a deep breath, he sighed and chuckled happily to himself, knowing he wanted to experience each of them at some point. Shaking his head in amazement, he ascended the stairs to a more private area that Phyllis and Harold graciously let their guests use.
In the hallway near the bathroom he found a stackable washer and dryer that looked brand new. So long as Harold and Phyllis could locate appliances and supplies when their current stash began to break down, the couple could live out the remainder of their years in the scenic Adirondacks. Compared to his life since the week preceding Labor Day, Metzger felt as though he’d found utopia. Contemporary fittings, elegant design, and appliances surrounded him as though he’d just won a sweepstakes for a new house. He walked into the bathroom, plucked a fluffy white towel from the pile, and held it up to his nose with no expectations. Greeted by a lilac odor that mimicked what he remembered from his childhood, and even some adult laundry days, Metzger shut the door behind him.
“Phyllis, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said under his breath.
Searching the medicine cabinet, he found a variety of medications, both prescription and over-the-counter. Ignoring those, he opened drawers in the vanity, coming across a rechargeable hair trimmer. Contemplating his appearance momentarily in the mirror, Metzger finally decided to use a guide comb to adjust the length of his hair, running the trimmer across his head numerous times. He liked his new look, and it felt rather comfortable having less hair. Considering he hadn’t shaved since the day the world fell apart, however, Metzger felt his beard gave him the look of a burly biker. He held up the trimmers, removed the guide, and looked in the mirror.
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug.
A few minutes later, the beard was reduced to stubble, which suited him. Metzger wanted to start growing the beard anew, but he didn’t ever want it long enough to reach his nipples. With scraps of loose hair covering his body, he started the shower, and a few minutes later found the hot water both relaxing and invigorating simultaneously. He used shampoo, body wash, a soap bar, and even the conditioner just to relive each experience after going without for so long. Metzger felt a bit selfish for doing so, but silently vowed not to consume so much of the limited products again if he was allowed another shower.
So much of the experience felt unreal, as though the past few months were a nightmare and he found his conscious mind returning to reality. He dried his body, put on the cleanest clothes he possessed, and returned to the lobby downstairs to find everyone still deep in conversation.
“Shower’s free,” he announced when he entered the room, “though I’m not sure how much hot water is left.”
Phyllis laughed momentarily.
“We’ve been living it up, up here, while you’ve all been on the road.”
“Some of us more than others,” Jillian noted, though she didn’t aim the remark at any present company.
“What’s with the windows and the fallen trees outside?” Metzger inquired, taking a seat in one of the available lounge chairs.
“Halloween decorations in the windows,” Harold replied. “Those vinyl stick-on things. We wanted the place to look broken down so people wouldn’t think the place was safe.”
“Aren’t the lights a dead giveaway?” Jillian asked.
“We shut this building down before dark,” Phyllis answered. “It would be like a beacon up here, so we shut off the lights and stay in one of the cabins. Anonymity is how we survive.”
“There’s a little tractor out back I used to move trees in front of the building,” Harold said. “I’ve been considering filling in the outdoor pool since it’ll never get used again. It adds to the feel that this place is unlivable, though.”
“If someone gets this close, they’re going to know the truth,” Metzger said. “Better to fill it in, so no one here gets hurt.”
“Does anyone know you’re here?” Phyllis asked.
Metzger sensed she was asking for the sake of caution, and for everyone’s safety.
“No,” Isabella answered. “It wasn’t in the plan all along, and I’m not even sure Bryce will guess we traveled here.”
“You’re welcome to everything we have,” Harold said. “However, we’ll probably have to make some trips to town if you’re all staying through the winter.”
“Winter?” Timmons questioned as though he hadn’t planned on staying for more than a few days to a week.
“Once the snow falls, it’ll be pretty much impassible on these roads without snowplows. This place will keep us warm, but we’ll need food and supplies to make it through.”
Timmons spent the entire conversation standing, leaned against the door frame of the extra-wide entrance into the lobby. He appeared stiff, as though unwilling to commit to staying at the resort for an extended time.
“You make it sound as though you can go to the market whenever you want,” Jillian commented. “Are there ample supplies in the area?”
“Oh, there are supplies,” Harold answered with a chuckle. “Several local stores were isolated, and we get creative with the stuff we find. Most times, I could only grab a handful of things before the dead started to surround me.”
Metzger fully understood the situation from experience.
“I’ll gladly lend a hand on your next trip.”
Timmons walked over to a seated Metzger, putting a hand on his shoulder before looking down to him.
“A word?”
“Sure,” Metzger said, standing to follow the captain wherever he wanted to hold a conversation out of earshot.
Ending up near the exterior pool, the captain didn’t appear especially happy when he turned to face Metzger.
“We can’t stay up here all winter,” he stated, shaking his head.
“What exactly did you think you were signing up for, Scott?”
“Not this, son.”
“You figured we were going to find my brother stumbling around with a hankering for human flesh, didn’t you?”
“You’ve already admitted that’s what you expected.”
“I have. You knew when you left the base this could be an extended trip. Yet you’ve been nothing but a horse’s ass the entire time.”
Timmons suddenly turned serious.
“I took you to the airport, risked life and limb to steal an aircraft and fuel, and brought you exactly where you said you left your brother.”
“There’s something more to this,” Metzger said, beginning to realize Timmons wasn’t simply irritated because he was inconvenienced. “Were you on some kind of timetable?”
“What?” Timmons questioned indignantly.
“You almost told me something once before,” Metzger pressed. “What was it?”
“They knew your sister-in-law was poking around,” Timmons admitted.
“They?”
“The brass. They didn’t want to lock you up completely, because manpower was already thin, and they figured eventually you’d try and escape the base.”
Metzger considered that train of thought reasonably accurate, because the only thing keeping him at the base was the thought of being close to his last remaining family members.
“So how do you figure into all of this?” he asked without hiding his irritation.
“An admiral approached me the morning we left, before Isabella made her request,” Timmons began. “He admitted they fucked things up when it came to your brother. Both of you were supposed to be brought back.”
“That way they’d have two guinea pigs,” Metzger muttered. “The Marines did fuck that up, because they could’ve gotten Bryce to safety, even after he’d been bitten.”
“If you watch someone get bitten, that’s a death sentence,” Timmons said. “They didn’t see any point in bringing a dead man back to a military installation.”
“On more than one occasion, Bryce had to put them in their place,” Metzger said. “I’m not so sure they didn’t leave him for dead out of spite.”
“We don’t think like that,” Timmons said. “We have beefs in the military, but we settle them and move on.”
“Fine,” Metzger said, still not certain of what happened at the Lancaster airport. “So an admiral approached you for what reason?”
“He wanted me to bring you and your brother back, if I was privy to some escape plan on your part.”
“So that’s what this is? A scheme to get me and Bryce under military control?”
Metzger raised a fist and took a step toward Timmons, who retreated a step.
“No, no,” the captain said quickly, holding up his hands. “Just because I agreed, doesn’t mean I intended to follow his orders. I don’t even know that he asked me in an official capacity.”
“Bringing me and my brother back would certainly give you some leverage, though.”
“Look, they asked me to betray your trust in me. I wouldn’t do that. I didn’t befriend you just to stab you in the back.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“It was unnecessary. I didn’t want to take a chance of you getting pissed.”
“So, brooding around all of us seemed like a better option?”
“I’m sorry,” Timmons said sincerely. “The outside world isn’t what I thought it was going to be. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to wind up in the mountains.”
“Can I trust you, Scott?” Metzger asked flatly, beginning to question the captain’s sincerity. “If not, you’re welcome to head back to Norfolk while you still can.”
