The rails are made of hollow lengths of heavy gauge galvanized steel bars. It took Gabe and I the better part of eight weeks to finish the fence. It is forty yards square, and has a small gate on the west side that leads out to a sheer four hundred foot cliff. The cliff comprises the entire western face of the mountain that we live on. The larger main gate is on the east side of the fence. Gabe installed the steel posts that support the fence the year before the outbreak started, but did not get a chance to finish it before the apocalypse struck.

 

The rest of the patrol passed without incident. Gabe and I were in high spirits due to the good fortune of finding the dead policeman’s gear. Life had been difficult for us over the past few months, and any stroke of good luck was welcome.

 

After we finished patrolling, we retrieved a makeshift sled from behind Gabe’s log cabin and loaded the dead body closest to the perimeter fence onto it. We dragged it through the gate to the west side of the mountain, and dumped it over the cliff. As the corpse of the former police officer tumbled down to its final resting place, I silently thanked him for bringing us his weapon and ammo.

 

Rest easy, partner, and thanks for the gear.

 

“What do you think we should do about the bodies at the foot of the mountain?” I asked, as we walked back toward the gate.

 

“I’m too damn tired and hungry to drag those sons of bitches all the way up here.” Gabe replied. “Let’s fire up the truck and use the winch to haul them up to the fence.”

 

Normally I would have protested the use of precious fuel, but the morning was cold, and the rumbling of my empty stomach was becoming distracting. I grunted in agreement and went into the cabin to get the keys to the truck. We pulled the Tacoma up to the eastern side of the fence where I shot the other four undead. Using the winch mounted to the front of the truck, we pulled the dead bodies to the fence and lined them up.

 

I checked the bodies for anything useful. Not finding anything, I helped Gabe load the bodies onto the sled and into the back of the truck. After the last of the morning’s casualties were disposed of down the other side of the mountain, Gabe and I parked the truck under the carport and went back to the cabin to make breakfast.

 

The cabin is a small affair, consisting only of a common room and two small bedrooms. The common room is little more than a couple of comfortable reclining chairs in front of a wood burning stove and a small kitchen. There is a small table in the kitchen with two wooden chairs where Gabe and I eat most of our meals. The bedrooms are on either side of the common room. Mine is on the eastern side of the cabin, and Gabe’s is on the western end. The cabin has four windows. They are on the north and south sides of the cabin, and rimmed with heavy iron shutters and padlocks. We drape heavy burlap covers over the windows at night to keep the light of the lantern from getting out. The cabin roof has solar panels on it to power what few electrical devices we still have. Mostly we use it to light the place up at night, run the computer, and power the radio.

 

We both took off our boots and left them just inside the door so as not to track any snow or dirt inside. We hung our guns up by their shoulder straps on hooks set into the wall and propped our swords up in a corner. We would clean the rifles, and then sharpen and polish the swords, as soon as we finished breakfast.

 

As Gabe squatted down by the stove to get a fire going, I took down some strips of dried meat hanging from a string in the kitchen and couple of cans of potatoes and kidney beans from the pantry. I took the lid off a rain barrel and ladled some clean water into a pot with the dried meat. I poured some more water into a larger pot and set both of them on the wood stove, followed by the canned goods.

 

“What’s the hot water for?” Gabe asked.

 

“We’re having tea with our breakfast this morning.” I replied.

 

Gabe rocked back on his heels. “What’s the occasion?”

 

We have a limited amount of tea, and only dip into our jealously hoarded supply on special occasions.