Zomblog II (3 page)

At first, I thought maybe it was a group doing battle with a horde. Then, an armor-plated van sped by a few blocks over. It was being chased by a sedan-from-hell with a machinegun mounted on top running on full-auto trying to bring down that van. A few moments later, there was an explosion, but I never saw either vehicle come back.

Even having pulled down those curtains that the girls had hung…I feel really vulnerable here. We need to bounce on outta this place.

Soon.

Wednesday, November 5

I made a decision today and must live with it. What’s done is done. I realize that right this moment; more so than ever before. I may have made a choice today that will haunt me for the rest of my life, however long or short that turns out to be.

This morning, Dominique woke me and said “some guy was sneakin’ around in the lot next to us.” I had no idea what sort of business that place had been since it was mostly burned down and really nothing more than a black, charred husk.

I decided this warranted bringing my shotgun. I jacked one into the chamber and went up to take a look. Staying low, I saw him before he saw me. He was probably in his early forties, streaks of gray sliced through his thick brown hair…he was definitely showing the signs of being without food for a while.

There were already a handful of downed zombies scattered around him. He had a pair of pistols on his hips and a bandolier of bullets outside his buttoned-up, long, black leather duster. He was a whirling dervish of steel as he spun blades with abandon in both hands. Occasionally he would dart one direction or the other and plunge a blade into the head of the nearest zombie.

The problem was that he’d managed to get himself surrounded. Every one of those things he dropped was being replaced by three more. Still, he’d managed to fight his way up to the chain link fence that separated our lot from his. Up to this point, our lot was still relatively empty. A couple of well-placed shots could give him time to get freed up enough to scale the fence and make it to the Dumpster that would offer him access to our roof.

Our roof.

Funny thought that. Considering the fact that I’m so busy planning our departure. But all the issues I’ve dealt with in regards to strangers kept me from acting in any way that would help this guy. Even worse, I was considering putting a load of buckshot in him if he managed to make it over the fence.

He saw me in the end. His eyes found mine just as about a dozen of those things got solid grips on him. Those eyes had the most sincere look of “why?” in them. He screamed something that sounded like “Please!” as he was torn into at least four different parts. I didn’t even put one in his head to end it.

My only
initial
regret? Not being able to get to his weapons. A few hours ago I started to cry…and haven’t really been able to stop. Damned hormones!

Thursday, November 6

An earthquake! A goddamned earthquake! Isn’t it bad enough that the dead are walking? I mean seriously! If there is some sort of divine being—a creator—don’t you think he/she/it would grow tired of fucking with us!

Early this afternoon, the girls and I were on the roof. I am mapping our escape route. Well, the first leg of it anyways. I wasn’t really paying attention to the shambling masses. It was Dom who tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention.

There was this entire new level of silence. But what was really strange—and I say that in a world dominated by the living dead—was that the zombies had all stopped moving. I mean they were simply standing there…rooted in place. It was as if, all of a sudden, each of the undead had been turned to statues.

I’ve never experienced an earthquake before. I was alone in that distinction. Weird, huh? So there was this sound that I will make no effort to describe. Then it was as if the world had turned into a giant Etch-a-Sketch and God was trying to erase the picture.

Zombies fell like dominoes, and I know for a fact that I screamed. Only, they must not have heard me over that roaring sound. It was an experience I hope to never endure again.

Afterwards, with all the sounds of glass breaking and things crumbling, those things simply lay still for at least five minutes. At first I thought that maybe…just maybe…it was over. At least here. Then, they started getting back up and wandering about on their little zombie errands.

The quake wasn’t massive. But still…it was extremely scary. We checked out our place and everything seems okay.

A freakin’ earthquake. Sheesh!

Saturday, November 8

We have to get out of here. I’m going stir crazy! I can’t explain it. My rational mind is screaming that I find someplace and stay put. I’ve left Irony. Huckleberry Gulch. For what?

All I know for certain right now is that I have to get the hell outta this damned strip club. Even that house was a better place than this. At least I had windows.

I’m certain that Jenifer and Dom feel the same. Either that, or we just happen to be the three biggest bitches in the world.

Wait! Considering the current state of global affairs that might be true!

Sunday, November 9

Tomorrow we are making a run. We will aim for the house I stayed at. From there, we will start leapfrogging. If we don’t leave tomorrow…we may never get another chance.

We’ve been spotted…and I don’t think they are friendly.

Tuesday, November 11

And now there are four. We added a new member to our little clan. His name is Sean Byers, and he is nineteen. Jenifer and Dominique are like a pair of wiggly puppies. But first, the past forty-eight hours have been a bit crazy. Everybody got a little bloody yesterday. Both girls made me proud.

We were up well before sunrise. I’d decided that using darkness as a cover was our best bet. A pair of armored trucks had cruised us twice on Sunday. I was certain they were trying to gauge our numbers. If they were friendly, they would have tried to make some sort of direct contact. So I was fairly certain that this was gonna be ugly.

We were horribly unprepared to deal with an enemy directly. However, I also saw an opportunity. We snuck out, as planned, and made for the burned out husk of a used-car dealership almost directly across the street. All the window frames were free of any glass, so we slipped inside and waited.

The girls were a little antsy. Hey…nobody really
likes
being out in the open, so-to-speak. I made it very clear that they were to sit still, shut-up, and be ready to move when I said so. I wish I could bottle whatever it was in my look or tone, because neither of them said a word after that.

About an hour or so later, but still well before sunrise, one of the armored trucks rolled to a stop. I’d watched them as they cut the engine a few blocks away and coasted in on the quiet. They were definitely up to no good.

Three men climbed out of the cab and moved in slowly. One disappeared around back, and another took the side to the right as you face the building. That was when I signaled for the girls to wait, and I climbed out the window. Using all the cover I could find, but still moving at a crouched speed-walk pace, I made it to their truck.

When I got close, I could see there was still one guy sitting in the driver’s seat. Fortunately, this cowboy had his window open! He never saw the butt of my shotgun. A solid hit to the temple is a good stunner. The hard part was reaching in, pulling him out, and jamming a metal spike through his throat.

What I’d taken for careless and cocky was, in fact, a necessity. The window was actually broken. The doors had been welded shut. The only way in or out of the cab was through the window. (I’d find out that little fact later from Sean.)

Once I pulled the body the rest of the way out and did a quick frisk for weapons, I climbed in. The whole time, I had one eye on the three men scaling rope ladders to the roof of our former bastion. As soon as they reached their goal, I turned the key, started the truck, and peeled out for the car lot. I pulled up to the window like I was at a drive-thru and yelled for the girls.

The three men were smart enough not to waste any time shooting at me. Instead, they scrambled off the roof, jumping as soon as they cleared the lip, and sprinted after their newly pilfered vehicle. I didn’t give them enough time to get more than halfway across the street before I had Dom pulled through my window enough so that I could go. I aimed the vehicle at their lead runner, who wisely dove aside as we rocketed past.

I knew I didn’t want to bee-line for anyplace I truly intended to hide. I considered making a run for the interstate and heading back east a bit. The only problem being that I didn’t want to risk driving through what I remembered as being very much like a warzone. Also, the second armored truck was coming from that direction.

I screamed for the girls to hold on and I took a hard left, blowing through a cyclone fence and into a schoolyard. Across the overgrown field we went until we smashed through a wooden fence that put us in what was once somebody’s backyard. I said a quick prayer as we exploded through another fence. Luck was on our side, and we came out on a narrow strip of knee-high grass that ran between two houses. I clipped a wooden post with a basketball hoop still hanging cockeyed from the top.

Turning right on the residential street, I noticed we were bringing in crowds of zombies from every direction. I’ve seen herds of the damned things that number in the thousands, yet there never seems to be a shortage no matter where I run. Anyways, I knew that another right would put me back on 82
^nd
Avenue. Since my goal was to disappear into a residential zone, that seemed to be the best choice.

I paused for just a moment when I reached the strip, and that was my fortune. Actually it was Jenifer who spotted the big propane tank next to the non-descript and unidentifiable building. She and Dom had gone through the cab and came up with four flares and a tire iron.

Looking around, I couldn’t see our pursuers. I was hoping all the zombie traffic a couple blocks back had slowed them. It was also in that momentary pause that I heard the pounding coming from the cargo area. I’d have at least a few seconds warning before anything would be on top of us so…I pulled up next to the propane tank, lit off a flare, dropped it beside the tank, and then drove to the corner. Climbing out so I could fire across the roof, I waited. Finally, the other truck came into view. Just as it was almost parallel to that tank, I made a wish and fired.

The explosion was enough to knock me backwards from my window perch. I landed awkward on my left shoulder and the shotgun skittered away. The pain was sharp, but the only thing on my mind was if I’d hurt the baby.

I could see that the other truck had been knocked over onto its side. Also, while all the zombies nearby had been knocked over, more were coming…from everywhere. I couldn’t see the shotgun and didn’t have the time to look for it. The girls had to help me climb into the truck and we were off. Oddly enough, the clearest path was now back the way we’d just come from. Speeding past the truck, I was a little surprised to see somebody climbing out.

There was enough light from the fire that I could see the guy was bleeding pretty heavily from a nasty head wound. I could also see several figures gathering around the disabled truck. That guy had the audacity to wave! Yeah…like I was gonna pull up and rescue the bastards who were gonna try and raid us or God-knows-what. Then two more climbed out. Now there were three of them standing on the side of the armored truck. We took a turn down a mostly empty street, that was the last we saw of them. Three men surrounded by several hundred very eager zombies.

I drove down dark streets with only a slight glow from the moon above when it would peek from behind the thick clouds. The explosion had brought them out from everywhere. Spread out but numerous, the zombies were a definite concern. We’d gone maybe a mile when the truck sputtered and died. I hadn’t even thought to check the gas gauge.

There we were, in some dark residential area, no weapons other than three spiked bats, a spike-tipped pole, three flares, and a tire iron. Whoever was in the back of the truck began pounding again with much more urgency. More out of hope that there might be some supplies in back, I had Dom open the door while Jenifer and I waited with bat and spear.

Dominique flung the door open and dove to the side. That is when we met Sean Byers. He was on his stomach, hog-tied
and
handcuffed. He’d been beat up pretty good, but could move on his own. I pulled his gag out, deciding that this was a bit too elaborate to be a hoax. Meanwhile, Jenifer was urging me to hurry. I briefly explained bits of the evening’s events as I untied him. We didn’t have keys to the cuffs, so he had to run with us with his hands behind his back. I remember thinking
, where is a cop car when you need it
?

Oh yeah…there wasn’t a damned thing in the back of the armored truck…except Sean.