Generation Dead - 07 by Joseph Talluto Page B

the desk down.”  Jake said.
    “All right, let’s get moving.  I’d like to be back to some form of civilization before nightfall.”
    “Le t me get the truck, ” Jake said, m oving off the porch and around to the front.
    I went inside and pulled together our collection, putting the books in a paper sack and the rifles were rolled up in a newspaper.  Jake pulled up and I climbed in, hoping we wouldn’t get attacked before we could get the desk out.
    We pulled around the silo and Jake moved the truck backwards through the large barn doors.  I couldn’t see much, but the cursory look I gave to my surroundings told me this was an old barn, one that was old enough to have its own personality, one that would manage this crisis without too much trouble.
    Jake parked the truck near a thin flight of stairs and pulled the big door shut.   That was a lesson learned the hard way. Too many times people thought they were safe just by being inside, but then the zombies wandered in the open front door. 
    I went upstairs to look around, and it was kind of weird.  The hayloft had been converted to an open-air study.  There was bookshelves, a table with three chairs, lamps, and the roll-top desk.  There was a typewriter on a small folding table, and a laptop sitting on the recliner.  It looked like a nice little getaway for writing or reading, but it was totally out of place for a barn.  In the winter, especially the ones we’ve had over the last few years, this place would be a freezer.
    Jake came up the ladder holding the end of the rope attached to the pulley.  We pushed the desk over to the edge of the loft and tied off the desk.  Jake went down to the other end of the rope, and at his first pull, managed to lift himself off the ground.
    I couldn’t help but laugh. “Need some more lunch, Jake?”
    “You try it, smarty, ” Jake said, holding the rope out.
    I went downstairs, hoping I could actually do it, just to show up Jake a little.  However, when I took the rope and gave it a tentative tug, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.  I found that a little odd, since we could move the thing on the loft pretty easily.  Nevertheless, I had to give it a serious try, so I heaved and managed to move the desk about a foot. But I couldn’t do better, so I had to put it down.
    “Uh huh, ” Jake said.  “Let’s try this one together.”
    We both took the rope and gave it a hard, steady pull.  The desk lifted off the loft and swung precariously over the open space.  We let it down quickly, mostly because it was heavy, but also because we weren’t sure if the old pulley could hold that much weight.  We’d have to risk it for the truck, though.
    “All right, let’s get it on and out of here.” Jake said.  We lifted the desk again, and when it got to a certain height, Jake got into the truck and backed it under the desk.  We lowered it onto the bed and we were congratulating ourselves as we tied it off.
    “Why can’t Chicago ever be this easy?” I said, looping a piece of rope around a desk leg.
    “Now you’ve done it.  We’ll probably blow a tire on our way back to the capital, ”  Jake said, tying off his end.
    “ Probably, ” I conceded. 
    We secured the desk as well as we could, and then cautiously opened the door.  The yard was still empty, although there could have been fifty little zombies hiding in the grass and we never would have seen them.  Jake moved cautiously through the yard, not just because of any danger to us from zombies, but he also didn’t want to drive over some piece of debris that punctured our tires.  That would definitely take second place for ruining our day.
    We pulled out of the drive and back onto the road.  I was for taking the highway back, but Jake said he wanted to go a different way.  I pointed out that the sun was going down and we were going to have to find someplace to spend the night.  Jake argued that we could spend the night away from the highway, and