I stand up stiffly and my back pops, making me wince. Maybe I should have known better than to sit cross legged on the unforgiving wooden floor for hours, hunched over a book. I take a few more tentative steps as I gather up my meager belongings and slowly my sore muscles start to warm up and unknot. It isn't completely dark yet, but its rapidly approaching, and I decide to use the little bit of daylight I have left to get myself down the ladder without breaking my neck.
I toss my backpack down before me, not wanting to fiddle around with any more rope right now- I've already rolled it up and shoved it back inside the bag. I cringe at the overly-loud sounding thump as the backpack hits the dirt below. I tell myself that I'm just being overly sensitive, and it wasn't actually that bad, and then I start my own descent.
It's slow going getting down the ladder, I think it's less about maneuvering in poor lighting and more the way my brain screams at me for self preservation, telling me to go back up to the treehouse and abandon this crazy quest of going out after dark. It has pretty much been our cardinal rule since day one, don't travel at night, hole up and wait it out- but that was before Silas got taken.
I reach the bottom and my skin prickles uncomfortably, I've never been a fan of the dark, even before the zombies. I feel like hungry eyes are watching me from the trees and with my wild imagination, I'm not even sure if they'd be zombie eyes, or other wild creatures. I swallow down my terror and pick up my pack off the ground, pulling my axe free of its holder, keeping it in my hand for easy access. I would much rather use my gun right now, but I can't risk the noise attracting attention in the dark- that doesn't mean that I wouldn't use it without hesitation if things get too out of control. I am well-aware of it's reassuring weight on my hip, and my fingers know the way.
I'm glad to see that there is a nearly full moon rising in the sky. I don't know if strategically that is for the best or not, but it makes me feel a little bit better regardless. I head down the trail that I marked out earlier, and it only takes me a couple minutes to find the bike. When I pull it out from underneath the tree, the brush rattles and it makes me even more jumpy. I wheel the bike out of the woods and scan the yard once more, but again, it appears to be clear.
I get on the bike and am not completely sure what to do with my axe. I don't want to secure it back to my pack as it will be too tough to reach back and grab it while I'm riding, but this bike doesn't have a basket. I finally settle on resting the axe awkwardly across the handle bars and keeping my hands on it, and the handle bars. It's not the most comfortable thing, but then nothing about this ride is going to be comfortable.
I kick off, cringing at the loud clicking of the chain, and wobble a little bit at first, it's been probably a year since I've been on a bike, and never with a pack filled with survival gear and an axe across the handle bars. I get the hang of it, after only a couple peddles and I find myself at the end of the driveway in no time. I stop and strain my ears for any sounds, but I can't hear anything, not even crickets. I'm shaking as I start off down the road, but I know I have to try everything to get Silas back.
I ride right down the center line, my theory in doing this is that I will have time to swerve if anything emerges from the ditches on either side. Every time I pass a driveway, I hold my breath. Every time I pass a bunch of trees lining the side of the road, I almost forget how to breath. My eyes try to scan the darkness, but I can't see anything in their shadowy depths.
I can however see the road, almost as clear as day. I speed up and get going a good clip, repeating the mantra, 'it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay', over and over in my head as I go. It weirdly helps me a little bit. I wouldn't say it relaxes me, but it makes it possible for me to remember how to breath. I spent a good amount of time staring at the map this afternoon and carefully tracking my road back to Louisville because I didn't want to have to stop my bike for anything, even the map.
