Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (48 page)

The other females won’t talk, so we don’t know more than we’ve been able to piece together from what we’ve seen. None of the males survived.

Rodney and Kenny left for Sunset. They will be coming back with a van or something. These females will be transported back. We’ll just wait here. It’s not the best plan, but it’ll have to do. We cleared out two second-floor apartments and herded ev
erybody inside. A couple had to be carried.

Jeff and Darla went out on a scavenging run and brought back some food and water. These people didn’t have much. That was not a surprise, but it was tough going through their camp, seeing things in the light of day didn’t help. Oh, and that thing that my attacker tried to kill me with? Sharpened femur.

Jenifer hasn’t said a word. I can’t get her to clean up. She’s got blood…and other stuff…splattered all over herself. She’s just sitting in a corner staring at the wretched-looking females all clustered together in the opposite corner. I’m actually a tiny bit scared to even say anything to her, or so much as approach her. I’m not even sure exactly what she saw, other than the obvious horror of cannibalism and rape, to set her off like what happened. She was a crazed lunatic. I can’t really describe it other than when I finally arrived with Darla, three men were dead. One of them missing his head. She was hacking at the last man standing. HACKING! She had an axe in her hand going all “Lizzy Borden” on this guy. She didn’t care how he cried, begged, or pleaded.

I’m not sure I was cool with Darla grabbing me and keeping me back either. She basically kept watch and let Jenifer wear herself out on that last guy. I haven’t spoken to Darla yet about it. I will say that I’m less concerned on how people will handle themselves when we reach The Genesis Brotherhood’s complex.

Every time you think you’ve found the bottom of humanity’s barrel, there’s a new layer of scum revealed! Yay! So we’ll sit here and stay low. We’ll wait for our team members to return. I for one, need the day or two this will probably take. I feel like I was put in a burlap bag up to my neck and beaten with a baseball bat. Also, I seem to be having a bit of a ‘girl’ problem. Doesn’t that just put the cherry on the sundae.

On the plus side, we didn’t lose anybody. There were a few bruises and scrapes, but the zombie threat was only min
imal. This was all about the menace of living, breathing types. Jonathan and Rodney checked my injuries. That femur-spear has left me with a pretty nasty purple and black bruise on my right shoulder where it connects. I’m told I was lucky. It doesn’t take much to break a collarbone. Or, if it would have actually punctured me…it could have been particularly nasty. Not to mention that my little mission would be over before it even began.

So…I’m gonna find a little spot in a dark corner and sleep. I can’t wait to see how my body feels tomorrow. I miss Tylenol. I used to be the type who always said no to being med
icated, but I really hurt. A lot.

Saturday, April 25

I hope everything went okay. Rodney isn’t back yet, and nobody can get these women to eat, drink, or talk. Add in that Jenifer slipped out at some point and came back late this afternoon, and my stress level is just a bit amped. Of course, Jenifer won’t say a word as to what she did or where she went. At least she came back clean.

Sunday, April 26

Rodney and Kenny arrived early this morning. We loaded those women up and moved out. There were three women from Sunset in this big van. It was crowded, but nobody is enforcing the seatbelt law.

When they left, I asked why they didn’t bring a bigger rig, Kenny said that the next biggest was a full-length school bus. They didn’t believe it would be able to navigate a few of the more congested obstacles.

Whatever.  They’re out of the picture now, and we were able to move out. I couldn’t put this place behind me quick enough. I got a really bad case of the willies.

I don’t know what exactly Jenifer saw or heard. I know what I saw, and it bothered me. I remember that whole incident with Scott and Sasha that Perry hadn’t let me see. I read about it in Sam’s journal and remember being upset. Only, I think I was more upset that Perry’d felt I needed protecting. What I saw has me shook and I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried to brush it off the past couple of days. It hasn’t worked. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, even if only to blink, I see that mutilated newborn’s corpse. I see that girl hanging by the wrists with an umbilical cord dangling between her legs.

I know I can’t unsee something, but I wish my mind would do some mental magic and block that image from my memory. And I can’t help but wonder, what did Jenifer see? How much worse could it have been? Of course, maybe I am just being a girl about things. I glance at Jeff and Rodney every so often and see nothing. They’re entirely focused on the next step.

You know how I know I’m slipping? I know that a co
uple of us—Jonathan among them—had a tousle with a zombie that night. I never thought to check anybody out. Shandra did. What’s more? She checked
me
while I was
sleeping
!

Tonight, we are just past that huge cemetery. We’re act
ually staying in the same complex we stayed in when it was just Jenifer, Jonathan, Shari, Coach, and me. No deer this time though. Too bad.

Monday, April 27

The left side of my face feels like it was run over by a truck. We’re still in the same place as yesterday. It is raining hard outside and the wind shakes the windows. I’ve honestly never heard anything like it.

I woke up first and had a quick chat with Kenny who was on watch. We were using the apartment across the hall as the bathroom; so, after some pleasantries, I went to take care of a few things. My plumbing has been a concern the past few days since “the incident” and I was anxious for any signs of i
mprovement.

The apartment wasn’t a concern as far as using it as a bathroom. I mean it’s not like zombies sneak upstairs and open doors. We’d swept it. Empty. I had my spear and the pistol on my hip strictly out of habit. I wasn’t thinking about them.

I went in, closed the door, set my spear against the wall next to the door, and went into the bathroom. I undid my webbed belt and sat my gun on the counter. It was still pretty dark and I couldn’t really see. Not to be gross, but I needed to see what was going on. The easiest way seemed to be just slip off my pants and panties and go to a window in the bedroom across the hall for a look. So that’s what I did.

I never saw the guy. He grabbed me by the hair from b
ehind and slammed me face first into the wooden chest at the foot of the bed. I tasted blood, but that was the least of my problems. Things were getting fuzzy on the edges and I could hear this guy mumbling all sorts of horrible things about what he wanted to do to me. I gathered myself and tried to break loose. That’s when he slammed my face on the wooden chest again. A metal hinge busted me open good just above my left eye. I’m certain I lost consciousness for a moment, because the next thing I recall was feeling something trying to shove itself inside me.

I felt a tearing, and the pain woke me up completely. Gripping the sides of the cedar chest I was bent over, I jerked hard to the left with my hips and kicked back with my feet. The idiot still had his pants around his ankles and fell. He let loose with a satisfying yelp. I think I sprained his poor wee-wee. I tried to stand, but that made me woozy. Grabbing the wall, I staggered a bit as I made my way across the hall into the bat
hroom.

I’m certain this perverted animal simply thought he’d hit the jackpot. There’s no way he suspected I was armed and in the company of friends. As I drew the gun from its holster and turned towards the cursing, angry man who was vowing to “make me pay” in all sorts of horrid ways, I heard Kenny open the front door and call my name. My attacker stepped into the doorway across the hall. I could see a perfect black silhouette. I pulled the trigger. Four times.

Of course Kenny came running. I think he was more embarrassed than I was when he burst in to discover me half-naked. At that moment, I truly did not care. I walked over to my would-be rapist, shoving Kenny away to reach him. He wasn’t dead yet, and even in the gloom I could see his face. Blood was bubbling from his mouth and nose.
Good
, I thought, he was drowning on his own blood. I made sure to look him in the eyes until he let that last breath go in a gurgle.

By then, everybody was there. The women had clustered around me. The men were standing back. There were whispered conversations, but I didn’t listen. My eyes drifted down between his legs, he’d only started to pull up his pants, and when I shot him, they’d fallen back down to mid-thigh. I stared at
my
blood smeared on him. But I didn’t cry. I shut off the pain. All of it.

Eventually they got me to return to our apartment. Jeni
fer, Darla, and Shandra took me into one of the two bedrooms. None of them is a nurse, but they insisted on looking me over. I allowed it, laying back, closing my eyes and rejoicing that I didn’t see the chopped-up infant or its poor mother. Instead, I saw my attacker full of pain, and his fear of the death that was taking him from this world.

The guys did a check. Fortunately, my shooting didn’t seem to draw much attention. They had to take out a few of the nearby zombies that were poking around. Really minor if I b
elieve what they say. Whatever the case, the consensus was that a nasty storm was rolling in and we’d do better waiting it out right here. So, that’s exactly what we are doing.

Tuesday, April 28

The rain is dying down, but the wind doesn’t want to let up. People are starting to piss me off, and I hurt. Everywhere.

I get it. I’ve suffered a “traumatic event”, but with the whole “end-of-the-world” thing happening, and with what I’ve been through already, I just can’t dwell on it. Besides, I’m not the one with a ventilated lung lying dead under a black
bed sheet. Oh, and who in the hell amongst normal people has black bed sheets? If you were into the whole Goth thing, fine. But normal people?

I had to argue with everybody to actually stand my watch shift. When I said I’d be willing to fight if that’s what it took to prove I was okay, they let me alone. So, right now, I’m sitting in a chair by the sliding-glass door that opens up on a wooden porch. I can see the lot below, the building across the way. Once in a while, something shambles past. But nothing has given any indication that our location has been discovered.

Shamble
. What a great word. I don’t think living people can really pull it off. The whole shambling thing that is. That reminds me of a friend I had…
before
. He used to say that you couldn’t really frolic unless you were in a meadow. He was a funny, weird guy. I’ll bet he’s good at shambling now.

Wednesday, April 29

Finally! We’re back on the move! I didn’t think I could stay in that musty, smelly apartment one more day. Tonight, we’re sleeping in a beautiful five-bedroom tri-level. The day was uneventful except for a huge explosion south of us. It happened about an hour ago. We’re only a few hours past midday, but the vote was to get out of sight for a while.

Jeff wanted to go investigate with a partner or by hi
mself, but got voted down. First reason; we can’t spare him. Second reason; we absolutely can’t spare him. He’s sulking now and it’s kinda cute. Big, tough Army Ranger pouting like a spoiled child. I mean, when I do it…well…it’s me. But when a big guy like Jeff does it, it’s just too funny.

Thursday, April 30

We’ve reached an overpass that signs call, “SW Zoo Rd.” Tonight we had to camp in some thick woods on the south side of Highway 26. The plan is for Jeff, Rodney, and I to scout up into the area across the highway tomorrow. What we saw today has everybody just a little quiet.

It seems The Genesis Brotherhood has been busy. There are crosses erected down the center of Highway 26. Fifty of them by our count. Three contained women, the rest, men and a few boys. These people were crucified
Passion of the Christ
-style. We actually had to look to be able to tell that three of them were women.

Each of these crosses is about ten yards from the next one. At the bases are mobs of undead. The only deviation from the Jesus-style crucifixion is the small ledge for the feet. They’re nailed to it, but this lets them stand, ensuring a much more pr
olonged and painful death. That ledge is about a foot or so out of reach of all the zombies gathered at each base.

None of those people are dead yet! I voted that we kill each one and put them out of their misery, but I was vetoed. The noise was only one factor. That these poor souls may be decoys is a common suspicion amongst my fellow travelers. To add to the bizarreness, each one has a “crime” posted above his or her head. Some are easy to decipher: Drunkard, Pornographer, Thief. Then there are the others: Witch, Blasphemer…and my f
avorite—Seditious Spirit.

Friday, May 1

The zoo was a nightmare. It had nothing to do with the few dozen zombies we had to put down. It was the animals.

There is no question that the zombies had absolutely zero interest in these creatures. Instead, it is a wasteland of starved carcasses. There is an indication that some animals turned on each other. Nowhere is that more apparent than the chimpanzee exhibit. There was only one chimp, emaciated and dead, in the huge cage. However, there are bones and skulls littering the ground. The dark stains everywhere tell a horrific story. The zoo had small plaques with pictures and names of eighteen chimpa
nzees. After seeing this, we were really glad there were only three gorillas. The entire primate center is absolutely revolting. The level of carnage is heart-breaking.

The elephants were a sad sight, but it was the bear exhi
bits that we saw the most pathetic thing in this nightmarish place. I have no idea how many polar bears this place had. Only one remained. There was something about its paws. They were black with old, dried blood. A closer look, and it was Rodney who noticed the scarring in the cement wall. That last remaining polar bear had tried to climb out. It looks like he broke off his claws in the process. Like I said, this place is a nightmare.

We searched and found something of use. Cases and ca
ses of bottled water. That is like finding gold, and no matter where you are fortunate enough to run across it, you always feel good about it. Whoever had looted this place obviously hit the food vendors. What they ignored was the souvenir shop. I had a hard time resisting the headband with the elephant ears. Well…I didn’t completely resist. I tried them on. I don’t care what Jeff and Rodney say, they were cute.

Saturday, May 2

More signs of The Genesis Brotherhood. Well…more like sounds. They are building a case for crazy. Try as I might, I just can’t reconcile any of their antics or atrocities. Call them what you want.

We moved in and through what had once been Washin
gton Park. There are rose bushes everywhere. I remember now that Portland called itself “The Rose City” and they obviously took it seriously. I bet this place was absolutely gorgeous back when it was cared for. Although, there is something to be said about the wildness it possesses now.

From here, we can see down into the remains of the city and in the distance there is a beautiful mountain, resplendent with its snow-capped peak, all spread out and waiting to be fe
atured in a postcard. There is an outdoor amphitheater here. That is where our latest discovery resides.

A concrete stage sits in the bowl. On each side is yet a
nother set of crosses. Both have zombies twitching and writhing on them. Atop each cross is a PA-speaker blaring a sermon. The entire area is caged in, and there are literally hundreds of zombies inside those bars. Some of them look relatively fresh. None of them are females. They’re all just standing there, facing those speakers like they’re actually listening to the sermon—a very angry sounding one by the way—like they understand. Or care.

We stayed in some of the readily available brush and just watched. All day. We saw no sign of a living person. When the sun finally set, we headed back and updated everybody. The next phase of our plan is to advance into the huge park. There are plenty of woods and trails. We’ll move up into the woods, set up our new camp, and then repeat this cycle; scout in a little deeper and close in on our target. Sooner or later we’ll come in contact with these bastards.

Sunday, May 3

“Mom always told me there’d be days like these.” I don’t care how old or
cliché
that phrase is. It’s true. Today fits the bill only in that my mom used to say that “sometimes you’re better off just staying under the covers and hoping tomorrow is better.”

I caught a glimpse of Dominique today.

We had climbed up this hill and found a natural stream. We were above it and had a ridgeline to sorta follow. That stream just meandered below in the low vee-cut that it sliced through. We decided to follow it because it might be a potential water source for The Genesis Brotherhood.

We’d gone about a mile when we heard voices. Creeping forward on our bellies, we got around this one dog-leg, and sure enough, there is a small, three- or four-foot waterfall. At its base is a pool that empties at one end to feed the stream we’d been following.

There were seven females—ages from young teens to maybe twenty—working around the pool, washing clothes. All of them were visibly pregnant. Four men were standing guard with various guns in hand. Overseeing this work-crew was Dominique, also visibly pregnant.

She has a rather interesting job. She inspects everybody’s work. While she waits for somebody to bring her something, she stands on a sturdy footlocker and reads from a bible out loud. We watched for a couple of hours, and it became evident that some of the women were listening very intently, even going so far as to call out an occasional “Amen!” or “Praise Jesus!” as punctuation. Others were not as exuberant. One kept crying. More than once, Dominique would stop reading and go to her. The first time, I thought she would yell or strike the girl who looked to be close to Dominique’s age—twelve. Instead, she would kneel beside her and whisper things in her ear. Once, she pulled her to her feet and hugged her. To say that I am puzzled is a big understatement.

The hardest part is trying to figure out just exactly what in the hell happened to that little girl. Sure, I didn’t
know
her. But this seems more than a little bit crazy. She is undoubtedly one-hundred percent on their side. She is one of
them
.

We waited until they left, we didn’t flinch. We just watched. I imagine Jeff and Rodney were looking for weaknes
ses to exploit. I spent the entire time getting a grip on the reality that, like it or not, I may have to take Dominique out.

Monday, May 4

Today, we moved further up the hill. We have found their perimeter. The Genesis Brotherhood have been busy. They’ve dug trenches, strung fence—barbed and razor wire—probably all the way around their compound: Pittock Mansion.

We watched armed patrols walking the fence line. We even saw one in action. A zombie wandered up. Of course, it was stopped at the fence. They’re so uncoordinated they can’t even navigate an obstacle that basic. Not that it didn’t try. This one was thrashing around, yanking and tugging, paying no heed as clothing and flesh tore and ripped in the struggle.

A two-man patrol eventually strolled up. There was no alarm or urgency. One of them walked up and buried a big knife in the side of its head. Then they said something on a radio. About five minutes later, a female about thirty years old arrived with an escort. She was in coveralls, boots, and gloves. She freed the body, then dragged it to a nearby pit and rolled it in. Just that simple.

We changed vantage points a few times, and saw pretty much the same thing. I tried to discern faces, but couldn’t get close enough. What did give us hope, we stayed as late as poss
ible, was the fact that they have light towers set up. The evening shift showed no signs of having night-vision goggles or anything of that nature.

We slipped back to camp late. The general consensus is that these jerks are a bit too over-confident. It will by no means be easy, but there are some chinks in the armor to take advantage of.

Tuesday, May 5

Luck comes in all forms. We rose early to move our camp just a bit closer. There was some real excitement building over the fact that we would be doing something very soon.

Credit Shandra with hearing it first. The sound of an engine! It was hard to tell where from at first, but everybody simply froze and concentrated. It was behind us on one of the winding roads that twist through this expansive park.

We dropped the gear, except for an assortment of wea
pons, and took off—perhaps a bit hastily—through the woods. We spotted the source, a flat-bed truck, creeping along. In the back were four men. The cab had the driver and one passenger; both men. They had to be Genesis members.

Because of the way the road winds through these hills, we were able to set up on both sides of the road without being seen. Unfortunately, I was the only one with a crossbow. My job was to take out the driver.

I was nervous, anxious, excited, hell I felt like I had to pee. It was crazy. I knew I’d only get one shot at the driver. If I missed, this could get ugly fast. When that truck came around the corner, I’m just certain that had I actually had any fluid in my bladder, I would’ve peed my pants.

From my vantage point, I’d be firing a little bit up, but the angle wasn’t too bad. I could see the guy, one hand on the wheel, one arm resting in the window, talking to the guy next to him. I’d only be about ten yards away. Even better, the guys in the back, none of them were holding weapons. Some had them over their shoulder, others were simply leaning over the wooden planks that were running along the flat-bed. It looked like not
hing more than the sort of truck you’d see hauling produce from a small, local farm.

The truck rolled up and I aimed. Giving a slight lead, I fired. I have to admit, I have really gotten proficient at hea
dshots. That guy never knew what hit him. A little less angle and I would’ve hit the passenger as well. The truck lurched and veered our way. The only problem with that was that, while it was fairly gradual for a bit, the gradient steepens in a hurry. The guys in the back went stumbling and falling, doing a lot of yelling in the process. It got worse when the truck began rolling down the hill. It came at an angle, and as soon as it hit the steep part, it rolled. That tossed bodies everywhere.

We rushed in, catching them completely by surprise. Two from the back were already dead, the other two from the back were hurt bad and quickly killed. It was not as easy for the other guy in the cab. He was banged up, but really not hurt too bad. His arm was busted, painful looking, but not life-threatening.

Jeff and Rodney trussed him up and we took him to the zoo. They disappeared inside the primate exhibit for a while. I know he was gagged, but that didn’t prevent the sounds of pain from wafting out on the night breeze. They finally came out, both…messy.

Here’s what we know. There are around fifty men, if we can believe the words from a religious nut-job.

No, I’m not saying every religious person is a nut-job. But if you think David Koresh or Jim Jones had some valid points, or that the folks in that Heaven’s Gate cult were just a bit misunderstood…
you
are a nut-job. I don’t profess to understand God, and all this hasn’t cleared anything up, but I can’t believe The Genesis Brotherhood is what he had in mind.

Anyways, the other piece of intel was that there are a
nother sixty-plus females and a dozen children. Something about that doesn’t settle. The mansion is big, but it doesn’t look
that
big.

I asked Rodney what they did, if they killed the guy. I knew the answer, but something inside me needed to actually hear it.

“Jeff snapped his neck,” Rodney said like he made statements like that all of the time.

Tomorrow, we go back for a look and see if the anthill is buzzing.

Wednesday, May 6

Jeff says that, by getting inside the enemy’s head, we can cause them to make mistakes, tip their hand. Already it seems to be working. However, that guy they questioned was a liar. There are more than fifty men in The Genesis Brotherhood.

Another of those trucks drove by this morning…heading
into
the compound. They brought in a handful of women from what I could see. If we’d have gotten up and moved out ten minutes earlier, we’d have nailed them. Unfortunately, all we could do was let them pass. This truck looked just like the other. The big difference was that the four guys in back had their weapons at the ready. So at least we have a good idea what that other truck was about. I asked why this truck came in from a different direction. Jeff says that could be on purpose to keep people from knowing their patterns. That would mean we simply got lucky with the other truck.

By the time we got up in position to be able and see the mansion, it was very busy. There were a lot of people out there, men, women, and children. We may have to readjust our plan of attack. Rodney says we may have to take the
Red Dawn
approach. Whatever that means.

We all went to different locations to get a better idea of what is going on in that place. Jenifer apparently saw Dominique today for the first time since we left her. I have no idea what she’s thinking because she still hasn’t said hardly a thing since
The Ordeal
. The only reason I even know that she saw Dominique is because Jonathan told me about a moment where Jenifer went sorta stiff, he was about to ask her what was wrong when Jenifer brought her rifle up to her shoulder. He had to ease her off of it. He asked her what the hell was wrong, but she clammed up. He looked around to try and figure it out, all he saw was a young girl with dark hair leading the new arrivals inside the mansion through a ground hatch that appeared to open up into a sub-level or basement. After a few questions, I was certain it’d been Dominique they’d seen.