Jim kept his eyes on Andy as he reached for the paddle.
Just as his hand wrapped around the wood of the paddle, Andy turned around and saw him. Andy’s eyebrows shot up and a look of fear took over his face.
A scared enemy was a dangerous enemy.
Andy’s hand went right for his gun. He was fumbling. And he clearly wasn’t a good shot. But it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that he had a gun and Jim didn’t.
17
Rob knocked on the door. It felt strange to do so. It felt like he was being overly polite. After all, the world as they all had known it was over. Wasn’t knocking a little antiquated at this point?
Or maybe not.
After all, he didn’t want to get shot.
Maybe going in with his hand on his gun wasn’t the best move. Sure, he had to be careful. But drawing first could lead to problems. Serious problems.
He had to really force his hand to relax its grip on his gun. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do.
“Someone?” Rob heard, called loudly, from deep inside the house.
And then silence.
Rob knocked again.
Someone was moving inside the house, unseen behind the thick door.
“I mean no harm!” shouted Rob, as loudly as he could. “I’m looking for my friend. I just need some information.”
A long silence.
Rob knocked again. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.
He figured that if he hadn’t been shot yet, chances were they weren’t going to shoot him. If he’d stumbled on the wrong house with the wrong inhabitants, they could have easily aimed down at him from an upstairs window with a shotgun.
“I’m just looking for my friend! Just tell me through the window. Will you just come to the window?”
Rob was feeling now like he wasn’t going to give up.
Rob banged on the door, and he didn’t stop. He just kept going.
Five minutes passed, and he kept banging.
Finally, the door opened.
It happened all of a sudden, and his hand went right through the open doorway, colliding with something.
“Shit,” muttered someone.
“Did I hit you?”
Rob felt his hand inching towards his gun.
Starting off by hitting the homeowner wasn’t exactly good. It wasn’t the first impression that Rob had hoped to make.
“Are you OK? Did I get you bad?”
He still couldn’t see who he’d accidentally hit.
“I’m fine, damnit. Get inside. I don’t like to keep the door open.”
It seemed strange, after so much trouble, to suddenly be allowed access to the home. Especially considering that they didn’t even ask him who he was, or whether or not he was armed.
There wasn’t much light near the door, and Rob stepped across the threshold, his eyes not yet adjusted to the new levels of light.
“Does it hurt?” said Rob.
“I’ve had worse. Don’t build yourself up too much, you’re not that strong. Hell, I could knock you down with a single punch if I had to. I doubt you could say the same.”
It was a man’s voice in the darkness. An old voice. But how old, Rob didn’t know.
Rob didn’t know what to make of the words. Were they meant as threats? As jokes? All bets were off in this new world. Anything could happen.
“Take a seat. Don’t wear out your shoes. You’re probably going to need them at some point. Now what’s this all about? Wait, just know that we’re not going to feed you. You’re on your own with that, young man.”
Rob was more and more starting to feel like he was speaking to a man who had to be at least in his eighties.
The man was talking almost nonstop, not giving Rob a chance to speak.
“Well, what are you waiting for? There’s a couch right behind you. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to rob us. Because if that’s the case, you’d better just walk out the door now. Lonnie’s got a 12-gauge trained on you from the other room. Isn’t that right, Lonnie?”
A woman’s voice answered from the other room. “That’s about right, Danny.”
Rob didn’t want to seem like a threat, so he backed up, still not able to see anything, until the backs of his legs bumped into the cushioned couch.
He fell back onto it and was surprised to find that it was an unusually comfortable couch. His body instantly felt more relaxed. The furnishings of the lake house had, of course, been the last thing on his mind. But suddenly he realized that they were far from the best available.
“Now there’s a candle around here somewhere. I can’t see anything. Lonnie, where’d you put those candles?”
“They’re where you left them.”
“You had them last.”
“I saw you with them earlier today.”
“That was yesterday. Don’t start losing your mind on me, Danny.”
There was a bunch of noise, papers being moved about, drawers being opened. Finally, the noise of a match being struck and then the glow of a candle that illuminated the old man’s face.
Rob had been right. Well, probably. Danny looked like he was in his late eighties. And in pretty good shape. His shoulders were square, and he stood tall. He looked like the sort of man who had spent at least a few decades doing some serious manual labor.
Rob watched as Danny settled himself into a rocking chair, holding the candle in front of him, which flickered in the drafty house.
Rob could see a little over the surrounding room, and more as his eyes adjusted. It reminded him of his grandparents’ house, and other older relatives. There were framed photographs, cute little saucers and plates everywhere, and a piano that looked like it was used regularly.
“So what’s this all about?” said Danny.
“Well,” said Rob, starting to speak.
“Wouldn’t you like some tea?” interrupted Lonnie, from the other room.
It seemed strange to be offered tea by a woman who was supposed to be pointing a shotgun at him. But Rob was getting used to strange things and strange circumstances.
“Come on, kid, have a cup of tea.”
“Uh, all right, sure, I guess,” muttered Rob.
“I’ll get the water boiling,” came Lonnie’s voice.
Rob heard her leaving the room, presumably to enter the kitchen. He didn’t hear her putting down a shotgun. He figured that it’d be pretty difficult to start making tea with a shotgun in hand, so he figured that there really was no shotgun. Not that he was going to say anything. If they didn’t have a gun, that was fine with him. It was smart, actually, to pretend to have one.
But it did give Rob an idea.
“You want me to hand over my gun?” said Rob. “That way you know for sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
Danny nodded stiffly at him. “That’d be fine,” he said. There was something in his voice that made Rob think that Danny had wished that he’d come up with that idea himself. But obviously Danny and Lonnie were just regular people, people who in their past life hadn’t had to deal with threats of violence or the threat of home intruders. They were making do the best they could now.
They seemed like nice, ordinary people. Rob hoped they’d be able to hold out. But he didn’t think it was realistic. After all, the hordes would be coming, looking for the lowest-hanging fruit.
Rob was acutely aware that he was in a hurry. In a way, he felt like when he’d visited some elderly relatives before the EMP. He’d always been a hurry to head off to the bar, or to meet up with some friends, feeling like he was trapped there in the stuffy rooms that were decorated in styles that dated back decades.