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

CHAPTER 13

Caleb didn't hesitate. He ran to the small brick building that lay before him and pushed open the door. It was a tool shed with barely enough room for him to stand in, but all the walls were intact, and the door closed. He grimaced. Of course the first building he would find in the zombie ghetto would be a shed full of tools. There were no windows, so he cracked open the door to let a shard of light in. It glinted off the clean—and in surprisingly good shape—tools that hung orderly on hooks on the wall. The back of the shed had a small workbench with a vice and other tabletop tools. It was an absolutely terrible hiding place. Sure, he had weapons, but they would do him no good if he was surrounded by a horde. There was only one way in and out. He needed to find better shelter.

He peered out the crack in the door and took in his surroundings as best as he could with his limited vision. A large backyard full of dead grass stretched in front of him until it ended at the concrete slab that had been the house's foundation. Only a few buildings were left in the ghetto. The open space made it easier for the humans to keep tabs on the zombies. It wasn't like the undead needed protection from the elements. Why even have buildings at all? It didn't make a lot of sense, but Caleb wasn't going to question it. He needed the safety, and he was glad he could still find it.

He pushed the door open farther and stuck his head out. He needed a better idea of where he needed to go and what threats were in his way. Just beyond the concrete border of the house's foundation was a clump of zombies. They stood incredibly still, their eyes staring at nothing. Silence pervaded the area. Disturbing silence. Caleb felt his breathing was obscenely loud and took small, shallow breaths to keep from being heard. He finally understood what the phrase "You could hear a pin drop" meant, and it sent a shudder down his spine.

He stepped back into the shed and pulled the door closed. He was convinced the zombies had heard the goosebumps form on his flesh. It was a ridiculous thought, but it was also so quiet he was sure he could hear them. He thanked his lucky stars his hoe hadn't attracted any attention. Its clank would have rung out like a bomb going off.

Why hadn't it attracted their attention? It was noise. Caleb had witnessed a sneeze attract their attention in a wind storm. Maybe he shouldn't question it. Maybe he should just go with the flow and continue on with the rest of his plan. These were all things he could worry about later—should he find himself caring.

When he was surveying the area, behind the creatures and to his right, he noticed a house—it wasn't difficult since it was one of the few standing—and he assumed that was where the roundup crews made their base. They would need a place to stage their operations—assuming the rumors were true. The longer he stayed in the ghetto, the more he was inclined to believe them. Again, there was no need for buildings if only zombies were supposed to be in here, so he was sure the living made it a point to come into the area. He just wished he knew how often. During his surveillance, he noticed the gate by the house. This in and of itself wasn't special, the gate had been there before, but the keypad that would allow people in and out looked new. A luxury that wouldn't be necessary if the living weren't coming into the ghetto. That gave him hope his plan would succeed. Once the opportunity presented itself, he would head to the house and wait for the humans to show up. He really hoped he didn't have to wait for long.

Taking deep breaths and tightening his grip on the handle of his hoe, he prepared himself to step outside. His leg muscles tensed when his mind brought up the picture of what was waiting for him out there. He readjusted his grip on the hoe again. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, as if the motion would loosen him up and get him ready to go. He attempted to step forward, but his own body stopped him. He sighed with frustration.

You can do this, he told himself.

But why do you want to? The voice in the darkness asked.