Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (49 page)

Thursday, May 7

Foot patrols were out all day. Jonathan and Rodney had been on a night surveillance watch of the mansion and came into camp in a hurry, waking everybody. We are deeper in the arboretum now. I’m starting to get impatient. Sure, I realize we can’t just go barrel in on this place. We’d get wasted. But I still think we should be doing
something
.

We’ve been hunkered down almost all day. We heard a few sporadic bursts of gunfire, but nothing major. The last few hours it has been absolutely silent.

Friday, May 8

Screams. All day at different points. Screams.

Sunday, May 10

His name is Scott Colson. I have no idea if he’ll survive, but he’s all part of yesterday’s hell. Nobody is going to walk away from this unchanged.

We decided it was time to get proactive (finally!). The plan was for us to split into our teams. If an opportunity presented itself, we were to try and take out some Genesis members. Each team would be expected to meet up at the zoo by sunset. Under no circumstances were any teams to stay out overnight. Not showing up would be the indication that you’d been caught or captured.

Jeff and I decided we’d circle down and sweep through the amphitheater. This would allow us to come in from the abs
olute rear of the mansion. We hadn’t gotten a really good look at that side yet and it seemed as good a plan as any.

As we approached, the normal noises of the penned-in zombies—which still creeps me out and I don’t care how much I’m exposed to those noises—had something else mixed in. We moved through some trees and brush, actually going under the back of the bowl on this narrow trail. When we’d reached what we guessed to be about the middle, we climbed the deceptively steep hill. When we reached the top, we peered over and down into the open-air theater.

There was no doubt that the four people freshly crucified were still alive. They were all on the precipice of unconsciousness, but each was still moaning and groaning in pain, two were only boys, early teens at the very oldest, one was a woman, one was a man in his late thirties.  (The two boys and the woman had been hung up
inside
the big pen and were surrounded by zombies.)

The initial urge was to rush down there and help the one person we could actually help. But, we had to just stay put. The very real possibility that this was a trap existed. So, most of our day was spent watching people suffer. When we made our move, we had to hurry because of the whole “be back by sunset” thing. Even carrying this seriously wounded man back to the meeting spot, we were the first ones back.

I can’t, in good conscience, write this entry without saying one thing. The three individuals inside that corral begged and pleaded for us to help them. That was, of course, impossible. However, once we were clear, Jeff went up on a ridge that gave him a clear view. Three quick shots put each one of those people out of their misery. Being heard is no longer a concern.

When we returned, we made Scott as comfortable as po
ssible (he was aware enough to give us his name during one of his very brief instances of consciousness). Then, we waited.

The others arrived, each looking discouraged and tired. Scott was actually greeted with acceptance instead of so
rrow, pity, or anguish. I would soon hear why.

They spent the day watching two women who’d “dared defy The Genesis Brotherhood” by fighting off the men who’d “selected them for breeding”, be given over to public punis
hment. This festive event started with every-body being summoned to the expansive lawn. (Fifty men is a gross underestimate by the way.)  There, the two women were brought out and stripped naked. Their supposed crimes were read, then the punishment was carried out. The women were staked to a platform face down. By staked, I mean iron spikes were driven through their wrists. The legs however, were secured by leather straps so that they were spread-eagled. A half-circle device is mounted on the platform at about hip-level so that their lower half is up and accessible.

Each woman is then summoned forward by name and handed a belt. They must then go up and lash each of the bound women once across the back or buttocks (We now know there are currently at least sixty-three women and girls housed at the mansion.)  Once that is done, the men line up. They draw lots to determine which woman they get and the order they will proceed in. Then, the women are repeatedly raped. There was a debate—although not very spirited—as to the age of one of the women. There is a consensus that she might have been sixteen or so. She did not survive the ordeal. Both women were left on the pla
tform, presumably as a reminder.

The only thing we gained today was a minimal hea
dcount of the women as well as getting a possible headcount of seventy-one men. That and rescuing one person who may or may not survive. We have no way to replenish his blood loss. We can’t do anything beyond bandaging his horrible injuries. And, we barely have enough medical supplies to do that more than once or twice. We hadn’t counted on treating such serious injuries in the field. Actually, and perhaps this is the first time I’ve admitted this to myself, I don’t think we put a lot of hope in returning from this mission.

I once dated a guy who was a big World War II buff. B
ecause of that, I have a bunch of useless information in my head. I took stock of our supplies and it reminded me of something he once told me. It seems that, towards the end of the war, the Nazis were running out of money. They still placed a heavy demand on their U-Boat fleet. Only, when they loaded them out for a run, they started cutting back on food and only giving them enough for a one-way trip. I started looking through what we brought. We could’ve actually brought a lot more gear. And food has been tight. We will need to scavenge within a few days. That water find is the only reason we aren’t down to using the filter pitchers. Crap!

Monday, May 11

We have a plan. We attack tomorrow.

Sunday, May 17

I have no idea
if
I will survive…how much longer. When did I get this watch? Takes a lickin’–

Monday, May 18

Screams. More screams. Am I the only one left? Where am I? This room doesn’t look familiar. I see it’s 17:11. I know I should be able to tell what time that is…but my brain feels fuzzy.

Tuesday, May 19

Guns. I hear shooting. How long have these tubes and needles been in my hand? Somebody has me on an IV.

Wednesday, May 20

My mouth tastes minty. Did somebody brush my teeth? And who keeps putting my journal on the table beside my bed with a new date at the top of the page? Tried twice to sit up, but way too dizzy. Also, I’m clean. I mean my body has been washed. That’s creepy and weird.

Why won’t anybody ever come in while I’m awake. How come nobody is sitting beside my bed when I wake up? I’d feel a lot better if I knew what the hell is going on. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep. Only, as soon as I close my eyes, even if it is only to rest a moment or stop the room from spinning, I usually fall asleep in seconds.

Thursday, May 21

I’m at the Mitchell place. Jamaal was sitting beside the bed when I woke up and Eric Grayfeather was standing in the doorway. Also, Shari
and
Doctor Gene are here. That’s weird. Doctor Gene says he just got here last night. Shari’s been here four days. Eric hates it when I call him Nurse Grayfeather.

I’m trying to remember what happened. Doctor Gene says it may come in bits and pieces, all at once, or never. I had to have four bullets taken out of me!

I asked about the others and was told that now wasn’t the time. I got angry and Doctor Gene threatened to give me a shot to put me back to sleep if I didn’t behave. Now I call him Mean Doctor Gene.

I’m super hungry, which Mean Doctor Gene and Scary Nurse Shari both said were positive signs. They brought me some mashed up fruit and veggies that reminded me of baby food. Two women I’ve never seen before brought in my food. They were giving me the Golden Calf treatment, being all nice and sweet and teary-eyed. Then Scary Nurse Shari shoo’d them away. I bet I could’ve gotten them to tell me who else in my group is here.

I’m afraid to stop writing because every time I do, I fall asleep. This is the longest I think I’ve managed to stay awake in what seems like forever, but I realize it has only been a couple of weeks. I wish I could remember what in the hell happened. I want to know how the people who were with me are doing. Somebody besides me had to survive or else I wouldn’t be here. Right? And what’s with the cow-eyed females who brought me my mush? I can only assume, provided we had any success, that they are women from the mansion. Unless Antoine, Jamaal, and Eric have brought in some strays.

Damn it! Getting sleepy.

Saturday, May 23

Heaven help me. I remember. I’m going to try and put it all down. It needs to be recorded, if nothing else, to commem
orate those who didn’t survive.

Jeff and Rodney had a brilliant plan. We would go down to the amphitheater and open the cage. All it would take was a couple of people to lead those god-forsaken things up to the mansion. The drawback of that duty was that you would be out of the action for a while because, while that was being done, the other three teams would be taking down the sentry patrols.

There had been some heated discussion. The female prisoners would be put in danger. Rodney called it “casualties of war” which pissed Shandra off to no end. I reminded her about Dominique. I conceded that some of these women were undoubtedly prisoners against their will. But others had been brain-washed. Kenny mentioned something called Stockholm Syndrome, but I told him that none of that mattered. As long as The Genesis Brotherhood existed, women were in jeopardy. For every woman who would probably die, how many were we saving from crucifixion or the horrible display they’d witnessed. He shut up after that, and even Shandra quieted down.

I was actually glad that Jenifer and Jonathan drew the lot that made them responsible for opening that pen and leading that horde to the mansion. I don’t know if Kenny and Shandra would’ve done it. I suspect Rodney rigged it, but I don’t know how.

We then did what we could to make Scott comfortable. We placed water within reach and tried to ensure he was warm. The conversation arose about leaving him with a weapon, but nobody wanted to part with one and, since he remained unconscious, it was voted and decided that we’d done the best we could, and if anybody survived, they’d come back for him. If not, it was the nature of the new world.

We gathered together before everybody set out on their missions. Shandra asked if she could say a prayer over the group. It seemed rather petty to refuse something that wouldn’t harm me. For a moment, it made me think of how things had once been. People really had become so self-centered and spoiled. All the lawsuits about banning prayer, or saying the Pledge of Allegiance. Was it really that hard to sit or stand quie
tly? Did it require a lawsuit? All the nonsense about infringing on other people’s rights. So Shandra prayed. I didn’t really listen, I’m not all that into it, but it seemed to make her feel better. I do remember being polite enough to mumble “Amen” with everybody when she finished.

We set off in the dark. That rush of adrenaline had my stomach doing flips, and that feeling of constantly having to pee hitting me was worse than when I was pregnant. Jeff and I would come in from the rear, so we walked with Jenifer and Jonathan to their spot. I’d forgotten about the other three people we’d left crucified. The moon was bright and the sky was clear. I reme
mber hearing Jenifer still weeping when we split from them and began our trek up the hill that would bring us to the rear or the mansion.

The rest of the trip was quiet. We reached our destination and Jeff checked his watch. I remember it well. The soft blue-green glow seemed so bright. I also know where the watch on my wrist came from now. We had twenty minutes or so to wait before we moved. There had been a whole
synchronizing of watches
deal before we’d left. I sat there, checking, re-checking, and re-checking again all my weapons. The crossbow would be used once, maybe twice, then it would be my Colts, my knives, and my spear. Rifles were deemed useless, but Jeff, Rodney, Jonathan, and Jenifer all had shotguns.

Twice, as we sat hunkered down in the brush, sentries passed. The second ones were right on time for us. After they passed, Jeff snuck up and cut the barbed wire. As he did, I tied reflective streamers to the posts; this would indicate to Jenifer and Jonathan where to lead the horde. Once that was done, we ducked down and waited for the next patrol. Jeff patted me on the shou
lder when we spotted them, then vanished.

I lined up my shot and fired my crossbow, then re-loaded, watching only long enough to see Jeff pop up and snap the neck of the other sentry before he had a chance to make a sound. I still don’t know where he’d hidden himself, I only know that, all of a sudden, there he was. I jogged into the open lawn and scurried to some hedges. I glanced back once to see where Jeff was. The bodies were already out of sight, and so was he.