Humanity's Hope: Book 1 in the Saving Humanity Series

CHAPTER 12

Caleb found a house about three blocks from the ghetto that would work. Aside from some peeling paint and a couple broken windows on the first floor, the building was intact and structurally sound. After making a sweep of the house—a habit from the before days—to determine it was safe, he checked on supplies. He didn't think he'd find anything. The area had been pillaged long ago for anything of value. Food, clothing, weapons, kitchen items, all of those things would be gone. On the plus side, the area was still attached to the water main that served the city center, so he had that luxury. Water would be nice. Every so often, things were overlooked and proclaimed as useless. Garden tools usually topped that list. In the city, they were pretty useless, but out in the wilds, they made excellent weapons. Shovels, hoes, pitchforks, hedge trimmers, and trowels were awesome in a pinch. They could stand up to several blows and were sharp enough to take down a zombie, and they were usually lightweight. They were also silent. The only downside to them was Caleb had to be close to the undead to kill it. It wasn't a place he liked to be, but between the choice of a garden tool and nothing, he'd take the tool.

He had been lucky and found a hoe in the garage. He didn't really have to worry about zombies while outside the wall, but he would feel tons better having it with him in the ghetto. It could also come in handy against his pursuers, but he really hoped he wouldn't have to use it against the living. Still, it was better to be prepared. Caleb doubted the hoe would have any effect against an RBZ, but—again—he felt better having it.

After making his sweep, he settled into an upstairs bedroom that had a small deck on the outside and an attached bathroom with a window. Should the need arise, he had several ways to escape. He found some old sheets in the closet and fashioned them into a rope he secured to the toilet. He didn't drop the rest out the window—he didn't want to raise suspicion—but it was ready if he needed it. He then settled into the corner of the room that afforded him a view of the door, the balcony, and the bathroom and angled the dresser so he was hidden but could still easily escape. He found some coffee mugs with lids in the kitchen and filled them with water. He also found a backpack with a ripped strap and broken zipper. Using some old shoelaces, he put the water inside and tied the bag shut. He hoped he wouldn't be in the ghetto for long, but he didn't want to be unprepared. Since water was the most crucial element of survival, he wanted to make sure he had some. He'd never been in the ghetto. He'd never even seen it until he was driving toward it. It was one of those places he never planned to visit. It was funny how things worked out. He had no idea what to expect when he got there, and that was making him incredibly uneasy.

After getting his supplies in order, he stretched out on the floor. He felt slightly dizzy, and his muscles trembled slightly. The cause could have been from any number of things from nervousness to excitement to lack of food to the zombie bite. All of the possibilities had their downside and reminded him of why he was in this situation. He didn't want to think about any of them. He just wanted to rest.

Placing his arm under his head, he closed his eyes. They twitched and fluttered, trying to pop back open. His stomach tingled, and his mind replayed the events from the last few days. What could he have done differently? Was there any path that didn't lead to where he was now? He hoped no one else was going to die because of him, especially Dr. Bentley. Maybe he should go back and turn himself in. Would he actually be able to save the world from the undead threat? He sighed with frustration and readjusted, folding his hands together over his chest. Taking deep breaths, he tried to clear his mind off all thoughts using the meditation technique the psychiatrist had taught him. But they wouldn't go away. Darkness enshrouded his mind, taking over his thoughts.

You're right where you need to be. The voice from the darkness was soft and strangely comforting. But you need to keep going. This is your chance to disappear.