DEAD: Confrontation by TW Brown Read Free Book Online

would need to see about keeping her warm. He would finally be able to put to use some of the more extreme survivalist training he’d learned. He just hoped that it actually worked for extended periods of time. They were not going to be able to move from this spot for pro bably the rest of the day.
    He crawled back, wincing as a fresh batch of snow was scooped down the front of his pants. Deciding that there was no sense in moving her a bit (plus he didn’t want her to wake up for as long as possible, one sound from her would ruin everything they had achieved) he went to work scooping some of the snow out from around a spot in the middle of the road .
    It was exhausting work , and he realized as his stomach began to cramp along with the muscles in his arms, legs, and back, that he was starving. He wished that he had something to remedy that problem, but “wish in one hand and poop in the other…see which one gets full first” is what his dad used to always say.
    Before long, he had an impressive mound of snow. He set to digging at a slight upward angle into the oblong dome that he had created after letting it sit for a bit and firm up.
    Every so often, he would check on the progress of the mob. Around mid-afternoon when he had dug in far enough and hollowed out a little room complete with a “bench” along one wall, he checked and discovered that they were down to just stragglers passing underneath. In between building their little snow dome and checking on zombies, Kevin’s mind had time to wander back again…
     
    ***
     
    Kevin turned up his police scanner. It had been a non-stop source of chatter for the past day and a half. Most of it was unremarkable in the first few hours, but it had changed in tone some time yesterday, and now it was like having a horror movie on in the other room and just listening to it play.
    For the past twenty minutes he’d been listening to transmi ssions between a paramedic team, at least two police officers, and a dispatcher that had been on the job for the past fifteen hours if Kevin’s calculations were correct.
    “…windows of the mobile home show definite signs of an attack,” a female voice reported. She had been the first officer to reach the scene when the paramedics had called for police back up during a call where a husband had called for help when his sick wife had attacked not only him, but the family dog; a Dachshund named Brutus from what Kevin remembered during an earlier part of the audio drama.
    For a moment, he felt just a hint of remorse at finding hi mself so riveted to what was unfolding on his scanner. He knew that this was real and that those were actually living, breathing people being affected, but he couldn’t help himself.
    “…and the EMT vehicle is open with no sign of the crew.” Now the female officer was approaching the residence. “The front door is shut, but I can hear something on the other side of the door. I believe that we have responders down at my location, please send an EMT team and back up to my location.”
    “Officer Wilson, be advised, do not enter the residence,” the dispatcher warned. “Back up is en route…ETA two minutes.”
    “Copy,” was the only reply.
    “Don’t be stupid, Officer Wilson,” Kevin called out from his hallway as he pulled down a few boxes from the shelf.
    Opening the boxes, Kevin sorted through the notebooks from the various survivalist seminars and camps that he’d a ttended. He finally found the one he needed and grabbed the checklist.
    He listened for a few more minutes until he heard what was now starting to become the standard conclusion to these o rdeals.
    “Unit Seven…Officer Wilson…please respond. Officer Wilson, this is dispatch…please acknowledge…”
    Nothing but static.
    He went to his computer and entered everything on the list and sent it to his three friends, Mike , Cary, and Darrin. He told them all to reply within the next hour confirming which of the listed items that they