Chapter 12 – Beyond the Fence
The morning fog had lifted slightly, leaving the air damp and wet. Alex adjusted the straps of the small backpack he had prepared the night before: a flashlight, notebook, a small first aid kit, a few energy bars, and a modest supply of water. The shotgun leaned against the porch railing.
His parents were already awake, moving quietly in the garden. Margaret glanced up when she saw him checking the straps. "You're really doing this?" she asked, voice low.
Alex nodded, trying to sound confident. "Yes. We need supplies, and I need to see what's out there. For safety and planning. I'll stay close—just the first few hundred meters beyond the property."
Robert stepped forward. "Take the compass. And don't get cocky. Check every step. We've reinforced the house, but the world beyond isn't predictable."
Alex gave a faint smile. "I know. That's why I'm taking notes." He lifted the backpack and stepped toward the east gate, already reinforced with the tripwire alarm.
Margaret touched his arm. "Be careful. And come back."
"I will," he said, voice steady. "I'll be back with something useful, or at least information."
The gate squeaked slightly as he pushed it open. The mist hung thick, rolling over the first few meters of the dirt road that ran past their property. Alex took a slow breath. Every sound was amplified: dripping water from the barrels, the distant call of a crow, the soft rustle of leaves.
The first stretch of road was familiar, yet unfamiliar. Fallen branches, scattered leaves, and the occasional flattened patch of grass suggested nocturnal visitors—animal or otherwise. He walked slowly, boots sinking into the wet soil.
He paused to examine faint tracks: small, irregular, recently made. He crouched, sketching them in his notebook.
Tracks observed:
Size: 6–7 inches long, narrow
Gait: uneven, small steps, possibly one individual
Notes: unusual pattern, could be scavenger or curious local
Twenty minutes into the walk, Alex came upon a small abandoned shed a few dozen meters from the road. Its roof sagged under moss, and the paint peeled. He approached carefully, flashlight ready, listening for any movement.
The door was partially ajar. He nudged it gently with his foot. Inside: rusted tools, an old wheelbarrow, and a stack of wooden crates. Some crates were rotten; others intact. He opened a few, discovering:
Rusted nails and screws
Pieces of chain and wire
A small, dry sack of beans
A tattered notebook with diagrams of gardening and water pumps
Alex's pulse quickened. Even small finds like these could be valuable. He placed the beans and notebook into his backpack, leaving the rest for later scavenging if needed.
Notebook note: "Gardening diagrams—could infer irrigation design at home. Useful for seed propagation and small DIY water system."
He stepped back into the mist, adjusting the backpack. The silence beyond the shed pressed in. Every distant sound—birds, wind, even the occasional drip from a roof—felt louder. He paused frequently, listening, noting the direction of sounds.
A sudden rustle made him spin. A small fox darted through the undergrowth, tail high, disappearing into the mist. His heart thudded. Nothing dangerous, but it reminded him how cautious he had to be.
Continuing along the road, Alex noticed the first signs of human presence: a burned-out vehicle, one side caved in. Its tires were flat, windows shattered. Rust had begun claiming the body, and dried blood stained the metal. He crouched, taking photographs in his notebook with sketches and notes.
Observation: Abandoned vehicle—possibly used for scavenging or escape. Suggests humans nearby in recent past. Remain vigilant.
Nearby, flattened grass suggested a trail leading into the woods. Alex debated whether to follow it. The path might lead to supplies—or danger. He marked it in the notebook for future reference: Explore cautiously—potential supply route.
By midday, the mist had begun to lift. Alex found a shallow creek cutting across the dirt road. The water was clear, moving over rocks and fallen leaves. He knelt, using his small container to collect water for testing back at home.
Water observation: Clear, free of debris, slight algae growth at edges. Could be filtered and boiled for emergency use.
He rested briefly, eating an energy bar and scanning the horizon. The distant hum of a vehicle engine reached him faintly. No lights, no movement yet visible, but he noted the sound: potential scavengers or travelers.
Alex made a mental calculation: Distance, visibility, timing. Keep moving, avoid exposure.
The second leg of the walk brought him past a small abandoned farmhouse. Windows boarded, roof partially collapsed. The fence around it was broken in several places. Alex approached cautiously, flashlight in one hand, shotgun in the other.
Inside, he found remnants of past life: rusted pots, broken chairs, and a small stack of weathered books—some on mechanics, others on herbal medicine. He took a single, sturdy-looking book on basic water pumps, slipping it into his backpack.
Knowledge acquisition: Water pump book—potentially essential for future irrigation or well maintenance projects.
He paused to sketch the interior layout in his notebook. Even minor details could help him plan safer approaches in the future.
While exiting the farmhouse, he noticed faint footprints leading away—fresh, medium-sized, heading deeper into the property. He crouched behind a wall, observing. The tracks disappeared into the woods.
His pulse quickened. Unknown humans were nearby, but for now, they were not a threat. He decided to retreat along the road rather than investigate further.
Decision-making note: Avoid direct contact. Observe, gather, return home. Safety first.
The return journey was slower. Alex constantly scanned for movement, listening for sounds carried by the wind. At one point, he crouched behind a fallen log as a fox darted past. Another rustle made him freeze—branches snapping in the woods nearby—but he saw only squirrels.
By late afternoon, the familiar outline of his house emerged from the mist. The tripwire alarm at the east fence remained untouched—a silent sentinel.
Margaret appeared in the garden, eyes wide. "Alex, you're back! Did you see…?"
"Not much," Alex said, unloading the backpack. "But enough. Some food, one book, observations on tracks and human activity. Nothing approached too close."
Robert inspected the items, nodding. "Good. Knowledge, supplies, and caution. That's how we survive."
Alex wrote the day's notes carefully:
Day 12 – Exploration beyond property:
Abandoned shed: beans, small notebook, minor tools
Abandoned farmhouse: water pump book, sketches
Creek water collected for testing
Tracks observed: possible humans, small animals
Observations logged: roads, paths, vehicle, potential supply routes
Tripwire and fence remain intact
Plan: expand exploration gradually, continue tallying knowledge, improve DIY defenses
Dinner was quiet but tense. Lanterns cast long shadows across the walls. Margaret whispered, "Do you think there are people out there?"
"Yes," Alex said. "But not all of them are hostile. For now, we observe. Avoid confrontation."
Robert added, "We reinforce here. We watch. And when we move out again, it will be cautious, deliberate, and documented."
Alex smiled faintly, writing in his notebook: Knowledge + caution = survival. First venture successful. Base and perimeter remain intact. Next exploration: farther along road, focus on resources and safety.
Night fell, and Alex returned to the basement, lamp glowing softly. He examined the water pump book, sketching designs for a small irrigation system back home. He considered electronics improvements, noting that the battery-powered tripwire alarm could eventually be expanded with lights or sensors.
Outside, the mist rose again, curling over the fields. Shadows seemed to stretch along the road. Faint noises echoed—branches snapping, distant caws, the occasional drip from a roof. Alex gripped his notebook and the shotgun, knowing the world beyond was beginning to reveal itself.
Inside, they prepared.