Get Off My L@wn - A Zombie Novel Read Online Free Page B

the last broadcast television
Ruth Ann and I saw for a very long time.
    The power grid failed later that evening. I took
a camp light to the mechanical room and made the necessary changes at the
breaker panel and electrical box. We would be running key services off the
solar charged batteries in the basement from here on out. At the breaker panel,
I made sure breakers for lines we weren’t going to use were switched off to
prevent mistakes. The loss of local power took down our Internet access as
well. The world as Ruth Ann and I appreciated it was shutting down.
    The other big change was the police scanner.
Teams of deputies were pairing with National Guard troops to engage the dead as
they were found near the safe zone at the airport. Their strategy was sound.
Engage the dead only from intersections to maximize escape options. They picked
off ghouls from outside their patrol vehicles. If the dead got close, they’d
get back into their car and move to another intersection. The dispatch center
helped the teams to keep to intersections where they could render mutual aid.
    We heard no one lose his or her life on this
day.
    Ruth Ann wondered aloud “If all the deputies are
in Chippewa Falls, who is patrolling out here?”
    She knew the answer.

 
    T he answer was confirmed the next morning,
Thursday (Day 15). Dispatchers on the scanner told any officers listening that
looting was taking place across the area. They were ordered not to
intercede if they saw any. In fact, law enforcement was ordered to stop
enforcing any laws. All personnel were needed at the safe zone.
    Ruth Ann and I were up on the roof. She was
tending the garden, getting some fresh greens together for lunch. I was keeping
watch. That is to say, I was keeping her company and was aimlessly looking at
the scenery. I heard a crash from the road to our east. Across the open yards
and tall grasses, a large blue pickup truck sat in the driveway two houses
north, the Xian’s house. I quietly called Ruth Ann over and we watched from the
cover of the parapet wall. The bed of the pickup was partially filled with
stuff. The stuff looked tossed together, not like someone packing their own
possessions in an organized way.
    A front window had been bashed in to make entry
into the home. The front door was open now. A large man with a rifle stepped
out the front door, looked around then looked back at the door. He made a “come
on” motion with his hand. Two other men with rifles slung on their backs came
out of the door carrying boxes. We could not see what they had; just that it
was boxes piled with more differently colored stuff.
    Looters had come to the neighborhood.
    We watched them make a few more trips back into
the house. Two of the men walked to the next house in our direction belonging
to the James’. The big man got in the truck and drove it to the next driveway.
Getting out of the truck with a baseball bat, he walked up to the front door
and bashed in the sidelight near the door lock. As he strode back to the truck
to toss the bat in the cab, a partner reached in through the broken glass and
undid the door’s lock. The big guy resumed his watch and the other two went to
work clearing out what they wanted.
    “We better get ready for them,” I said to my
wife.
    She went for her hunting rifle and the carbine
with a supply of ammunition for both. I went to the garage and brought up an
old portable P.A. system I had from my days doing trade shows. At 150 watts it
would be ear splitting in what was otherwise silence. I would speak loudly and
Ruth Ann would carry a high powered stick.
    While I was setting up and trying to remember
how the P.A. worked, Ruth Ann set up in a prone position with a view of our own
road and driveway through a drainage port. We were set and had agreed on a plan
by the time the men cleared out the last house, the Olson’s, before ours. They
all hopped in the truck to make the slightly longer trip to our road. I watched
them approach our