Zomblog: The Final Entry (6 page)

It has been a while since I’ve seen so many of those things scattered around and lurking at every corner. Between the singles, roamers, and the always dangerous creepers under seemingly every vehicle…I’ve probably put down over two hundred of them in the past day and a half.

I kept hearing the voice of
Doctor Who
—the dreamy David Tennant version—saying, “Run!” We even had to ditch our carts for a while and go back for them. I was really glad mine didn’t get stolen by some passing survivor, and there seem to be a peculiarly high number around these parts. We just got so tangled up with fighting and evading, we had no choice.

At one point, we were hiding out in an overgrown cemetary. I’m not sure, but I believe that there are still people out there who think that the dead will claw their way from the grave. Those people have never read
Behind the Formaldehyde Curtain
. Mouths are sewn shut, organs are removed—including the brain—and the body is pumped full of chemicals. I get that zombies are not normal…Wait. Let me rephrase that. Zombies didn’t
used
to be normal.

Nowadays,
we
are the anomaly.

Early this morning or late last night—can’t tell which—we made it back to where we’d ditched our carts. We hitched up feeling pretty safe, but made sure to lead the ones we gathered just in that short time back to the movie house. We used the woods to get to this place once we spotted it to keep any zombies off our trail.

We were moving along the single-lane road that runs parallel to the highway when the first great big snowflakes began to fall. These didn’t drift gracefully. Nope, they plummeted to earth.

The best thing about this place as opposed to a lot of the houses in the area is that it has all its doors and windows intact. So, now, a million dollar home is nothing more than a flop house for a pair of vagrants and a dog.

Monday, February 15

Wow! There’s at least three feet of snow on the ground outside. We are so totally stuck. There is absolutely no way that we can leave. It snowed all night and has been coming down steady all day. We can hang here for a while, I guess. I know that we will have to deal with snow in the mountains, but we ain’t there yet. I won’t ever say this out loud in front of Eric, but perhaps we should’ve waited one more month before heading out.

I can’t help it; I wanted to get out of that confined, mundane, prison-like environment. I felt as if I were dying a slow death. I can’t explain it anymore beyond that. At least Eric hasn’t said anything. I don’t believe it matters to him one way or the other. I have to say it again; I couldn’t be making this trip with a better person.

Friday, February 20

The storm has passed and we’ve had a sunny day to enjoy…at least from inside. It is freezing out there. Still, there is this square of sunlight coming through a window that is blissful. Oh, and Eric bagged a deer. He called it a spike; I call it yummy. We have feasted the past two days.

From our position overlooking the highway, we haven’t seen much movement of any kind—zombie or otherwise. And have I mentioned the glare? It never once crossed my mind until Eric handed me these dark goggles. He thought it was amusing that I would even consider going up into the mountains with no eye protection. To my credit, I didn’t stick my tongue out at him until
after
his back was turned.

Wednesday, February 24

It was nice to be on the move again. Because of the downpour of rain the past two days, much of the snow has been washed away. There are still some mounds here and there, but the road is fairly deserted and easy to travel along.

So, about these mounds or “snow drifts” that are scattered about; some of them contain nasty surprises. I’d all but forgotten that zombie that I’d seen fall in the street and eventually stop trying to stand again on the slick ice. It’d frozen in place then gotten covered with snow. Today we learned quick to avoid anything that even remotely resembles a lump, bulge, or drift.

We were passing this gigantic truck stop just after sunrise. There were dozens of rigs with names that would mean nothing to the next generation. We’d decided to poke around since we’d spotted a Pepsi and a Lays truck. There were a few roamers that we could see, and we considered skipping past, but Eric wanted a Pepsi.

I didn’t see too many of those things to handle and decided that it couldn’t hurt. I wasn’t going to deny my travel buddy something that seemed so simple. It was when we stepped up to the rear of the trailer with the big, open cargo doors that we almost suffered a terrible loss. Eric went to kick the ice-crusted pile of snow that was kinda in the way. He didn’t expect to discover a solid center. The look on his face would’ve been funny when he tripped, if not for the zombie.

A big hand with fingers like kielbasa sausages burst from the mound and wrapped around his ankle. If that big old trucker—or what was left of him—still had any of his lower jaw left, there would’ve been a remarkably different outcome to that encounter. The top teeth scraped Eric’s pant leg, but didn’t get through to skin or anything like that.

I drove one of my scimitars into the side of its head and kicked it away. After catching our breath, we returned to the task we’d initially embarked on. Swinging the cargo doors the rest of the way open proved to be a huge disappointment. The roof was nothing but brown stalagtites from where the Pepsi bottles had burst and sprayed the ceiling.

We did find a few twenty-ouncers that hadn’t exploded, but it was an unsatisfactory haul. We also salvaged some sour cream and onion chips. After our snack break, we sat there not talking about that mound incident.

We got back on the road and passed a roadside diner that was nothing but a charred husk, but right after this dog-leg turn, we happened upon a school building. It was tiny, not even a cafeteria, and situated in a perfect place. We had a great view back the way we came for a good distance, along with a wide open look ahead.

I don’t believe in fate, luck, or divine providence. That said, we could’ve easily kept on going and pulled up at a place a mile or two up the road. I do think that we were both still a little spooked by that snowdrift incident at the rear of the Pepsi truck. Whatever the reason, we chose this place to stop for the night.

They came from the north. It started about an hour ago. Sam’s growling alerted us. Lit up by the setting sun, we can see them by the hundreds…maybe thousands: a horde.

Thursday, February 25

Got up early this morning to see the damage.

The field that they cut across was enormous. The horde emptied into the clearing across the highway. There were four houses spaced out in this area. All of them would’ve made ideal spots to stop for the night. Only one is still standing.

From what we can tell, they stomped straight through. However, when they reached the south end of the clearing, it narrows and eventually gives back over to the forest. It was probably like water hitting a barricade. There was a thin row of trees on the east “wall” of the clearing. That’s right, I said “was.” Perhaps it was because the ground was so wet, but several of those pines were toppled like a bulldozer had gotten to them.

We didn’t stick around long. The trees and terrain acted as a diffuser and scattered the horde. Several pockets of them are sorta hanging out like they got lost or something. The one remaining house that is still standing is surrounded ten deep. A few houses up the road a ways have a handful swirling about. I hope there isn’t anybody trapped in any of them; not that we could do anything for them if there were.

Then, there are some houses not in the path that the horde took. These are simply on the other side of the road. Not a single zombie is in the vicinity. This is a perfect example of their single-mindedness.

The road here has a slight roll to it as we get closer to the big mountain. We crested a ridge on this particularly long, straight stretch. That is where we discovered ‘SE Paha Loop Drive.’ We followed it into the trees and discovered an old bed and breakfast. Thankfully, it was long since empty.

Friday, February 26

Made good distance today. Wow! It gets noticeably colder the moment that the sun ducks behind the horizon. I’m talking face-numbing, toe-stinging, don’t-want-to-pee-because-your-hoo hoo-freezes cold!

Eric says that we are lucky. The weather, by his reckoning, is rather mild for this time of year. I told him…well…never mind what I told him. The lack of zombie problems have been replaced by an eternity of pine trees coated with white, sparkiling snow. It looked so pretty in pictures. Make no mistake…this sucks!

We found a place to stay. The sign beside the highway said ‘SE Weber Rd.’ A little ways in, we found a house. My guess is that either neighbors or family—perhaps running from the city—brought the horrors here. At least five of of the eleven people here were small children. I say “at least” because I am quite certain that there were infants here. There just isn’t anything left of them to find to prove their existence.

In one of the photos on the wall, there is a picture of a woman holding an infant. It is one of those artistic skin-on-skin black and whites with soft diffused borders. I put my blade into the woman personally. She was even wearing the same diamond necklace from the picture.

We cleaned out the house and dragged the bodies out back. Eric says we’ll probably have to stay here a few days. His spider-senses say that there is another storm coming. We aren’t too worried about the zeds right now. That means a big roaring fire in the fireplace and even a few oil lamps! Absolute luxury!

Eric slipped out for a couple of hours and came back with a deer over his shoulders already stripped. I guess two years of not being hunted has made them plentiful. Zombies have no interest in them. Either that or they are too slow—the zombies, not the deer—to catch them.

Monday, March 1

Here’s a great idea. Trek through the mountains at the apex of winter. Meredith Gainey…you are a DUMBASS!

Wednesday, March 3

When exactly is spring? I don’t actually recall. But if I see one more snowflake, I’m gonna scream.

***

AARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!

Saturday, March 6

Rain! Sweet, blessed enemy of the snow! Come and wash your frozen brethren from my sight. Oh…and I’m getting REALLY bored with venison. (All I hear is my mother’s voice saying, “Meredith Gainey…eat your dinner! There are people in China going hungry.” I never understood that logic.)

Sunday, March 7

Spent the day outside. We walked (hiked) out to the highway. The snow is washing away. Eric says we should be able to resume our trek in a day or two if this keeps up. I think there is less than a foot of the stuff still on the ground.

Oh yeah, Eric says we will probably have to deal with this sort of erratic weather for the next month at least.

Monday, March 8

Holy Crap!

Okay, remember the whole thing about dogs turning? (But not cats, that is still so weird.) Well, wolves are related to dogs. AND, if you leave rotting meat outside—for instance, rotting zombie corpses—wolves will come back and pick over the remains.

We woke in the dark of night, the fire down to glowing embers, to something
wrong.
At first I thought it was the cold that woke me. Then I realized I wasn’t the slightest bit cold. And Sam was growling. I reached for Eric, but no surprise, he was already awake.

There was a scratching at the door. Zombie-wolves have a yowl that you only need to hear once to remember forever. It made my hair stand up on my arms (and legs…no, I haven’t shaved in a while. What’s it to ya?). Also, I peed just a little.

We got up and put on all our gear: lined gloves, goggles, leather coat, modified welder’s leathers over our denim. What can I say? We’ve gotten a little bit lazy having been so long without seeing a single soul…living or undead. The house has kept us toasty with the huge fireplace and two woodstoves going twenty-four/seven.

Weapons ready, we had to wait another hour for dawn. What? Did you really think that we would venture out to fight zombie-wolves in the dark? As soon as it was light enough, we snuck out a side window after making a bunch of noise at the front door to lure them to one spot.

I am thankful that those things are no more agile or limber than their human counterparts. The fight was…different. Actually, if anything, those zombie-wolves were even clumsier than humans. They staggered and stumbled a lot. Perhaps it is because of the four-legged thing.

The scariest thing is that you couldn’t tell that the wolves had turned until you got a good look at their eyes. Since they’d eaten contaminated flesh, there were no injuries to give them away. Their eyes, however, are even creepier than a human’s. It is just so sinister looking.

We dispatched them quickly, but it seems to have really bothered Eric. I’ve seen him take out a lot of zombies of the two-legged variety without wincing (even the little ones, which most folks are VERY squeamish about). In fact, I’d say he is the only person I’ve met who, like me, is very detactched when it comes to taking down zombies. But this—the wolves really appear to have upset him.

Tuesday, March 9

Finally! We are back on the move. Only, if you trade one house you’ve cleared for another that you haven’t, is it really a good thing? The best thing about this place is the river practically right outside the back door. I have no idea which one it is, and when I asked Eric, he said, “Pick a name and that is what it shall be.” Personally, I think he is still moping about the wolves.