Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (23 page)

It was difficult leaving, knowing that Meredith is down there. It took us most of the day to get in, gather everything, and get back. Now, as it is late…we are forced to wait one more day. Caren is going to stay here and watch the town and the road…Roy, Jimmy, and I will slip in. Roy is going to make a racket and be certain that crowd sees him, then Jimmy and I will get Meredith and Kyle’s attention and slip out of town.

Hopefully.

Tuesday, June 17

I guess the most important thing in the life we live now is our ability to maintain humanity. Before this happened, we all seemed to lose perspective on what was important. Bad news and scandals sold more than good deeds and honest living. It became all about labels, marketing, and if it would turn a profit.

If something was done that could be deemed “heroic”, it was trumpeted, exploited, and buried all in the same day more often than not. If there was a scandal, a tragic death, or an act of depravity…it could surf the wave of headline status or lead-in story for weeks until the next great foul deed was uncovered.

People that live on both sides of that spectrum have survived the horror of this past half a year. I’ve seen both in extremes. I’ve tried not to linger on either side. I’ve had to put down for the last time folks I’ve known, including my own daughter. I’ve tried to help those around me in any way I could. If there is anybody left who knows/knew me a year from now, I don’t want to be thought of as somebody who never tried. Leave the labels and over-exaggeration in the dead past.

We did all we could to rescue Meredith and Kyle. After Roy came up with the clever idea of attaching a note to a rock, we were lucky and got close enough to throw our note and get their attention with minimal zombie interaction.

All went relatively smooth. Once we were ready, Roy began shattering windows and making a real racket. Of course the zombies have no concept of lures, traps, or anything of that nature, and followed eagerly after the sight of warm, living meat. Then, as the mob around Meredith’s and Kyle’s building began to pursue, Jimmy added to the chaos and this caused the pack to sorta disperse.

I was never happier than when Meredith and Kyle were able to bolt down the stairs only having to dispatch the occasio
nal persistent zombie that had refused to follow the pack. I waded in to help, dispatching a handful of those things.

We ran for the Walking Bridge as fast as possible. Caren fired twice as the signal for both Roy and Jimmy to break and run as well. Meredith, Kyle, and I waited on the town side of the bridge, urging our friends to run faster.

We all crossed and then I tossed a match on the ground to ignite the trail of gasoline back across to the pool we had dug and filled. It went up with a “FWOOP” that sent an oily black cloud skyward. We knew we had to move, because if any of the folks who had been chasing us were still in the area, they had a good idea where to come look.

Roy, Jimmy, Kyle, Meredith, and I scaled the hill to where Caren was waiting. I kept glancing at Meredith as we climbed. I was so happy to see her. I thought for certain that I’d never see that smile again.

Screw Noxon, screw Trout Creek! We’re heading back to Irony. Let somebody else make this run. Let them clear out a backup compound that we may or may not need. I just want to live without running, fighting, or killing. I want a shot at a family with Meredith and Joey.

Those were my honest to goodness thoughts as I was scrambling up that hill.

That is most likely why I never saw, heard, or smelled the creeper. I’m guessing he was in his early teens when he died. The zombie did him in good. Most of the left side of his face was torn away leaving plenty of crusty, exposed skull. The left eye-socket was literally packed with dirt and gravel. He had bites out of him all over his body, and the legs had obviously been ripped off. A dried tether of intestine trailed about a foot or so behind him.

Anyways, Creeper-boy sprang from behind this really thick bush. I was bear-walking up this particularly steep section of slope at the time. His hands caught my left arm and we both went tumbling down the hill. The fall wasn’t as bad as hitting the tree trunk at the end.

Funny, I remember thinking of something my grandpa used to say when I was a kid.

“It ain’t the fall that hurts, Sam…it’s the sudden stop at the end.”

All the wind left me in a rush and Creeper-boy is on top of me now, still clutching my left arm. With the air knocked out of me, I was as weak as a kitten.

So, I could only watch as Creeper-boy pulled my arm to his mouth. I couldn’t even scream when his teeth tore into my flesh, or when his head jerked back and I watched him chew while my blood dribbled down his chin.

When he took his second bite, I could scream. Instantly I understood the pain in all those screams I’d heard before of those who were being eaten alive.

Then Roy was there, grabbing Creeper-boy by the shou
lders, tossing him to the side and crushing his skull with three swings of an aluminum baseball bat.

Seconds later, everyone is there, and I look up and see it in their eyes. I’m already dead. Jimmy is wrapping a strip of cloth above the elbow and pulling it tight to stop the bleeding.

That was when I passed out.

I woke up in this dark room. Meredith was beside me. I notice she has a .44 magnum sitting in her lap.

It seems the group decided to return to Thompson Falls. The town sorta runs east-west and I guess we are in some farm house that was just north.  It sits on a ridge and looks down on this long open field that slopes gently away to the town proper.

So, here I lie with a pen and paper in hand. I will conti
nue to document this as long as I can. When I woke, Meredith kissed me on the cheek and left the room after sitting in silence for a bit. Neither of us know what to say. I am a bit surprised they didn’t just put me down when I passed out. It’s not like we all don’t know that eventuality of what will happen. Maybe they are hoping I’m like Kevin Davis and hold some kind of immunity.

I guess we’ll see.

Wednesday, June 18

I feel awful.

It is like every hangover I’ve ever had, but all at the same time. My arm feels like it has been dipped in napalm. What makes it even worse is that I can smell myself. I’m pretty sure that we can rule out immunity.

Judging by the looks in everybody’s eyes, I think they know that, too. I heard them arguing quietly and I’m pretty sure they want to just put me down and move on.

Every time I feel myself doze off, I imagine it to be the last time I will be amongst the living. Yet each time, I awake.

I should just ask for a gun and be done with this. O
nly…when you know you are on the last leg—at least for me—you want each minute.

Meredith sits with me now. We can’t seem to say an
ything. She knows. I know. That’s really all that there is.

I don’t want to talk about Joey or any of that stuff b
ecause it would only make things worse for the two of us and I’d rather just allow these final days…hours…minutes…seconds… simply to pass.

Besides, talking hurts.

Thursday, June 19

CAN NOT KEEP FOOD DOWN. EYES BURN. HEAD POUNDING.

THE SMELL…

Friday, June 20

Early morning

I’ve spent the last few days reading Sam’s journal. Some of it I knew…some not.

Right now he is lying in a corner of the walk-in closet that we’ve kept him in since arriving at this house.

It is clear that he is in the final stages. In fact, I don’t e
xpect him to see tomorrow. Not that he is seeing anything at this point. He hasn’t opened his eyes since early yesterday.

Caren is here with me, just in case. I made it clear that I will be the one to put the bullet in his head when he stops breat
hing. I guess they worry that I may not be able to do it.

It is funny how people try to impress their own wea
knesses on others. Perhaps it helps them cope if they think more people are like them.

Sure, it’s sad. I loved Sam. At least I loved him as much as you can in such situations. There were great memories and all, but he’s not the kind of guy I would’ve been with before all this shit. Don’t get me wrong, he was okay to look at and smart. But…

Evening

Sam is dead.

He sorta gasped for a few final breaths, then, he stopped. Actually it was Caren who noticed and got my attention. I knelt beside him and held his hand as he sighed out his last breath.

I put the pillow over his face, pressed my gun to it, and pulled the trigger. Still a bit loud, but it’s been a couple of hours and none of the locals have wandered up to investigate.

I will miss Sam. I’ve decided that I will keep up his jou
rnal. After reading it I have come to the conclusion that this may eventually be the only historical account of what happened to society.

The group wants to wait another day before trying to leg it back to Irony. Maybe tomorrow we can bury Sam before hea
ding out. Or…perhaps we can torch this house like a funeral pyre and he can be the distraction that aides in our escape.

I don’t want to sound cold or callous, but the reality is all about survival now. All the old rules from the past are gone. You have to be ready to make hard choices and let nothing go to waste.

When you think about it…we are pioneers. No, we aren’t discovering anything new. But, we are re-settling civilization. There are no rules, no laws. I’ve experienced it firsthand. Lest you forget…I was held as a commodity. Repeatedly raped by a man who once wore a badge and served as a sheriff…a figure of law.

That happened because I foolishly believed in the tenets of our now deceased society. I mistakenly believed that the rules still applied. I sought protection and care under the umbrella of somebody besides myself. I still held to that premise that a man could give safety. I relied on another person to care for my well-being.

That will get a person killed.

I’m not saying we don’t need one another to survive. I am saying that everything has changed. To have a chance, you need to be capable of caring for yourself first and foremost. In this world, only the strong will survive.

My name is Meredith Gainey and I am strong.

Saturday, June 21

There is no reason to hurry. We slipped into town this morning for some supplies. This place might be an undiscovered gold mine.

Roy and I decided to sneak out while everybody was asleep. We left a note so nobody would freak. Of course there was the awkward, “Are you okay?” crap. But I stopped, turned him to face me so he could get an honest appraisal and told him, “People die these days. It is sad, but true. I’ll miss him, but, I rest well knowing that he won’t be wandering around like these mobile bags of pus infecting others, and that I didn’t get bitten.”

Then Roy goes into this whole, “I thought you two were in love and gonna start a family with Joey.” I nod.  “Yep. But It didn’t happen that way. And just maybe, if all of this settles down, I will grieve the loss and cry. For now…I quit cryin’ after the hundredth time I was gang raped back in Pasco by the county Sherriff and his crew. That used up all my tears. As for being in love…I was in love with the idea of being in love. Now…I don’t know.”

Roy didn’t talk anymore after that. We snuck into town, ducking behind cars, peeking around corners. Then I spotted what I came for: BEN’S OUTDOORS AND SPORTSMAN SHOP. None of the windows are broken!

The plague or whatever this is must’ve come quick and decisive because this place is untouched and it is a gold mine. We had to use the back alley entrance but it was a big metal door just like we had at the 24-Hour Fitness I use to work at. Having left my keys a few times, I am actually somewhat of a professional at jimmying locks.

Presto! We’re inside with hardly a peep. The air is stale and slightly bitter, but there is no trace of “dead” in the air. Still, better safe than sorry, and I sent Roy up one aisle as I worked the other. We spent ten minutes confirming what I was already fairly sure of.

There are bows, arrows, knives, and at least forty shotguns and two dozen rifles of all different calibers. Also, ammo. LOTS! Throw in the camping gear and this is the lottery and a Vegas jackpot wrapped up and waiting under the Christmas tree.

I grabbed a Tri-Star 12-gauge o
ver/under and a Remington 597 .22. I swapped out the standard scope for a nice laser job that I found in the manager’s office. Once both were loaded, I made sure I had an acceptable amount of spare ammo.  Then I began looking for a few blades. It is comforting to be carrying that extra weight again.  I’ve felt naked ever since I had to lose everything in the river before I ended up on the bottom. I look forward to going out and fine tuning the sights on my new weapon.

More good news. Survival rations! Box loads! They taste awful.  But for quick, convenient, and at least moderately nutr
itious food…they will do. That means we’ll need to bring the rest of the gang down to supply up before we jet outta town.