Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (64 page)

There was a family photo on the first page, titled “Our New Family” in carefully hand-etched calligraphy. The mother, Marie according to the caption, was clutching the tightly bu
ndled infant in her arms with a smile that only new mothers are capable of. Standing behind her, with his hands resting on her shoulder and waist, is the father, Chad.

There are a dozen or so other photos, but it is something about that first one that is so heartbreakingly sad. I actually b
egan to feel guilty flipping through the pages of this young man’s life. I made certain to replace it exactly as I found it.

Once Eric finished cleaning Cody up, the boy curled into the f
etal position and went to sleep. That’s when Eric told me about the rest of the bodily injuries. Apparently, along with his lower lip, Cody is missing most of his tongue.

I’m not sure about what will happen now. We haven’t asked him to join us, and I’m not sure he will want to even if we did.

One more thing; that feeling of disquiet I’ve had? It isn’t gone. Whatever has been gnawing at my nerves…it isn’t this boy.

Tuesday, June 1

At Eric’s insistence, we got up this morning, ate a light brea
kfast, left some for the boy, and then started on our way. Stupid Sam didn’t want to leave Cody behind and I actually had to use his leash. The road curled slightly in an eastern direction and took us into a gouged out valley.

A twisting creek is winding along beside us as we go. In a few spots it has cut away the ever-deteriorating highway. Ho
wever, it would seem that there are plenty of fish. We were cooking a lunch of trout over a small campfire when Cody strolled up and nonchalantly sat down across from Eric and me.

Naturally, Sam padded over and plopped down beside the boy. We ate in silence and then resumed our journey until we came upon a half-collapsed roadside motel.

Up ahead, the mountains look ominous. I think I understand the mindset of ancient civilizations better. Those mountains look so dark and forbidding. And with the clouds stacked up against them, there is a feeling of mystery. The world is silent save for an occasional flash in those distant clouds followed by the low, sonorous rumble of thunder.

Friday, June 4

I’ll say this much…Cody can handle his business in a fight.

The steady climb into the Steens Mountains was much more a
rduous than I remember Mount Hood being. We were moving slow, and my calves felt like rubber bands that had been stretched to the point of nearly snapping by midday. And that was on the
first
day.

It was on the second day that the squeaking rumble woke us about an hour before sunrise. We were well off of the road, camped up on a large, flat ledge that gave us a good view of the pass below in both directions. In the direction we were moving, there was a curve in the road about a mile off. It was from around that corner that we saw the strangely modified truck come rolling along.

It was one of those big ones with two rear axles and chrome sideboards running along the elongated bed. The cab had been transformed into a cage like one of those cars in the old county fair
Zipper
rides. Inside was a man. A big, fat, bald man with the hairiest body I have ever seen on a human. He had a handlebar mustache that sported curlicues at the ends like a cartoon villain that went great with the two-pronged goatee he was sporting.

A long, metal bar extended from where the engine used to be. Chained to each crossbar that had been welded to it were a mi
xture of two living humans and fourteen zombies. The living folks were in front to urge the zombies forward in a twisted parody of carrot-and-the-stick. The driver was using some sort of elaborate braking lever to keep the vehicle from trundling out of control down the hill.

When Cody took off down the rocky embankment, I might’ve briefly considered leaving him to his own fate. No, I didn’t like what I was seeing, but in my defense, I’d just woke up and my legs were killing me. My calves actually feel like somebody is flaying them right now. Then Sam bounded off a
fter the boy and I wasn’t left with any other choice.

There was some sort of narrow slit in the side of the cage where the driver sat. I’ll never know how Cody did it, but he fired a shot from his wrist rocket that found that small opening. I don’t know where he hit the driver, only that he did. That was bad news for the two living souls in front of the long metal pole. The manual brake must need to be held down, because after a pained gurgle, the truck began to pick up speed. It built quite a head of steam before it veered into the solid rock that bordered one side of where the road should be.

We were so fixated on the spectacle that, by the time any of us recognized the sound, five three-wheeled choppers came around the bend and were bearing down on us. We had no choice but to fight. Any thoughts to the contrary evaporated with the boom of a double-barreled shotgun that reverberated through the entire carved out pass.

Eric went down like a sack of rocks. Things were a little blurry after that. I had enough time to fire my crossbow once, then draw an axe and hurl it. Cody, on the other hand, managed three shots with his wrist rocket before any of the riders were able to locate us and fire another round. I moved in on those he’d i
njured with my blades drawn to make sure nobody got back up.

As for Eric…he’s fine. Mostly. His chest is badly bruised from the rubber balls. I guess those guys prefer to take their vi
ctims alive.

We are fairly certain that their camp is not far away. I have no desire to search for it.

As for Cody, I chewed his ass good for charging into a fight like an idiot. He didn’t look all that chastised when I was finished. Eric was silent through the whole thing. Whether out of pain or something else, I have no idea.

Here is my problem: Why did I bitch out that kid for som
ething I would’ve done myself not more than a year ago? The only real difference being that I would’ve done it in a way that tried to save those poor souls chained in the front of that truck.

We’ll camp for a few days before moving on. We found a really sturdy old National Forest Visitor’s Center. It was on a mostly overgrown access road that led into the tall pines. The dust in here is thick enough that it is obvious nobody has been here for a long time. That makes this the ideal place to rest up while Eric recovers. He wouldn’t have asked, but his pain is o
bvious.

Saturday, June 5

Holy crap!  Bears!

Today we watched a large, brownish bear sit in the shade of the trees while its cubs played in the open, sun lit field. Seeing a grizzly (Eric said it was a young, female grizzly) in the wild is a big difference from seeing one in the zoo.

I am told it is a big deal. Not that I would know, but I guess it has been generations since grizzlies walked wild in these parts.

Sam was a handful. That stupid dog wanted to go outside and check out the visitors. Eventually I got him corralled in a closet where I left him until our visitors wandered off to do whatever it is that bears do in the woods. Today was the first time that my dog was completely out of control. Sam hates bears more than zombies…good to know.

We did find a few things around here that we could use: kerosene, two bottles of hydrogen peroxide, some fishing gear, and a rugged looking radio that came with a pair of nine-volt batteries that tested good in their little display pack battery tester.

Of course we didn’t pick up any signals, but it will be nice to have and make periodic checks with; especially when we get closer to Vegas. (I know that I need to see it for myself and it doesn’t matter if anybody is still alive there or not.) I also like that we can see if there is anybody else out there transmitting. I picked up that initial Vegas signal from northeastern Oregon with a clunky old normal radio. Perhaps we’ll find other places to see after Vegas with this baby.

I say “we” but I do not count on anybody making these trips with me. One post-apocalyptic walkabout is probably all Eric has in his tank.

Wednesday, June 9

I should learn to trust my intuition. After all, it has kept me alive this long. Now, I’m alone in the middle of nowhere and basically stripped of all but the most basic and meager supplies. I have two filtration canteens, my crossbow with seventeen bolts, my spike-tipped walking stick, a long knife, machete, and an empty backpack; empty save for the journals.

Oh yeah…and my dog.

The day after the bears, Eric and Cody were down at the creek trying out the new fishing gear. I was impatient to resume our trip, but didn’t feel right asking Eric to travel yet. He was obviously still in a great deal of discomfort. Also, he and Cody were bonding. To be perfectly honest, I think that I was a teensy bit jealous of them. I’ve known Eric for quite some time, but we’ve never been what I’d call close. As for Cody, well, we’d just met him, but it was clear that he preferred Sam’s or Eric’s company over mine.

I decided to take advantage of their absence to enjoy a little ‘me’ time. Guys are so funny about that sort of thing. They think that they have the market cornered. Back in the Old Days, men would be surprised to know how often we ladies had to fi
nish the job they started after they rolled over and went to sleep.

Anyways, I was just finishing up and debating on whether or not I would mosey down to the creek to see if I could emba
rrass the boys by taking a bath. (If I am being totally honest, I think I was suffering from the lack of attention…and horniness. I don’t think that I would’ve ever considered sex with Eric, but it would’ve been nice to know if I could at least raise his eyebrows.)

That’s when I heard
the scream
.

Coming from Eric made it all the more terrifying. To my credit, I buckled on my gear and grabbed my crossbow. I know better than to rush into a fight without my stuff. Plus, most of what I carried was still hanging on belts or straps attached to my clothes. When I threw open the door and stepped outside, I knew that there was nothing that I could do.

A wall of undead was pouring through the trees. It was a massive horde. There had to literally be thousands. It took me several seconds of standing there like an idiot to fully process what I was seeing. Here. In the middle of nowhere. The biggest herd I’d ever seen with my own two eyes. I say that because, from where I stood, they stretched on in either direction for as far as I could see.

Sam’s barking is probably what saved me in the end. My faithful companion was sprinting across the field. Turning my head to the left, I saw one of the advance stragglers step around the co
rner of the building. She’d been a big girl in real life. Not fat…I mean WNBA big. She was well over six feet tall.

The screams had already ceased. I doubted that there would be enough left of Eric or Cody to come back considering the size of this pack. I would never learn how this herd came up on Eric and caught him by surprise. Then it dawned on me…I hadn’t heard a sound. Not a moan, groan, or baby cry.

My walking stick was actually leaning by the doorway out on the porch. I grabbed it and jabbed it through the freakishly tall female zombie’s chin and up into her head where it burst out through the top of the skull. I let the body fall off the porch and free up my walking stick.

I grabbed the canteens and the backpack from just inside the door. I knew that there was no time to pack anything. Going i
nside would likely seal my fate. I wouldn’t make it if I didn’t run. So, that’s what I did. I ran. Just like Rose and the Doctor…Sam and I ran.

We made our way back to the wide swathe where Hig
hway 78 used to be—it is so washed out through here that it really looks like nothing more than a very wide trail. All that day I kept up a fast walk or slow jog. Sam trotted alongside me with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like everything was just fine and dandy.

We passed cars and trucks. Some empty. Some not. But we ne
ver stopped. Every time I looked over my shoulder, I saw them. At some point, I actually stopped looking. But as the shadows of the early evening began to grow long, and a chilly breeze began drying the sweat that still clung to my body, I looked to find…nothing. It was as if it had all been an illusion.

That was when I realized that the area around me was changing. The trees were gone. Just before it got dark, I passed a sign that said something about lava fields.

We actually backtracked and found a place to camp for the night where we still had trees to hide amongst. Sometime in the middle of the night, that herd must’ve stumbled upon the camp or base of the guys that we had it out with the other day. The sounds of distant gunfire and those awful screams came. It sorta reminded me of microwave popcorn. It started slow, and then there was a flurry, then a few aftershocks of noise…then silence.

My desire to continue on was hampered by the fact that I was exhausted. I didn’t feel I would be able to push through a day under the sun if I didn’t get some rest. Also, Sam didn’t look like he could go on much more. His head had drooped at some point and he was barely getting his feet off the ground by the time that we stopped. The last factor was that we would be out of water soon. I didn’t want to miss even the tiniest creek.

The rest of the night, I slipped in and out of sleep. I woke to a pale sky without even the slightest wisp of a cloud. There wouldn’t be any relief from the sun. And it was already showing signs of getting warm. The only good news that day was the lack of any signs or sounds of zombies…or survivors from that camp or compound that got overrun.

Thursday, June 10

Being completely on my own seems weird. I can’t actually remember being alone like this since this whole thing started. Sure, there have been moments; periods of time when I was all by myself. But right now, for the first time, I am totally alone.

I woke this morning and crawled out of the bushes that I’d ch
osen to hide in while I slept…and discovered that Sam is gone. I’ve called him. I’ve looked around.

Nothing.

I am in the middle of nowhere.

Alone.

I haven’t moved from this spot in the hopes that my stupid dog will come back. I can’t stay for long because I have less than a quarter of a canteen left as of right now and haven’t found any water. I won’t die of thirst. I can backtrack if need be in order to refill at one of those mountain streams.