DAY 68
Jim has taken a turn for the worse.
He is running a fever and looks like hell. He asked to speak with me in private. When we were alone he looked at me for a long time but didn’t say anything. I think he was making some kind of assessment of me. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he pulled out a small book with brushed metal covers and handed it to me. It is a military codebook that has the locations of every weapons and storage cache in the western United States. It also contains the access and security codes for each bunker. I stared at it like it was the Holy Grail. When I looked back to Jim he gazed at me solemnly.
“Now you know the real reason I got shot.” Jim said. “Those peckerwoods from the Guard unit tried to murder their commanding officer to get this. We ran across him before he died and he asked me to get it to his son.” he finished.
“His son’s with those people in the survival compound around here.” I said. Jim nodded.
“Here’s the deal. If I don’t make it, I want you to take care of Marion for me. You copy the information in that book and the original stays with my wife. You make sure she’s looked after and you get the keys to the kingdom. I want your word on it.” he said, and then lapsed into a coughing fit.
“Great,” I thought, “Just what I need, more responsibility.” Jim told me not to show the book to anyone other than his wife, ever.
I understood its value. Jim drew out a rough map of where the compound of survivors is and warned me that even though they were God-fearing people, I should watch my ass around them.
After I left Jim, I felt guilty about thinking of him and his wife as a burden. He and his wife are better people than I will ever be.
DAY 69
We had a close call today when a bear wandered into the barn, probably attracted by the smell of smoked meat.
I happened to be going through the gear in back of the Land Rover at the time and pulled out Karl’s FN .308 assault rifle. It was the only weapon other than the shotgun that was powerful enough to do the job if I had to gun down Smokey.
I needn’t have bothered. As soon as the bear caught a whiff of human scent, he turned and bolted out of the barn, honking like a walrus the whole way. It’s nice to know we’re still near the top of the food chain.
Jim is doing much better. He broke his fever last night and is starting to get some color back. We are all relieved and hopeful. Albert overheard a transmission on the radio today. We think it is the National Guard unit Jim mentioned. They didn’t say anything very interesting and didn’t seem to be looking for us. It is still concerning though. The fact that we picked up their transmissions means they are close by.
We are continuing with our nightly watch shifts. Marion offered to stand guard with us but Alison told her to stay with her husband. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but right now it is 3:17 a.m. and I am only halfway through my shift. I am cursing Alison for being so generous. It is fricking cold out here and I am tired…and bored.
DAY 70
Against my better judgment, we have more or less set up camp here in the barn.
Albert and Grace sleep in one of the four horse stalls (on cots), Jim and Marion sleep in one of the other stalls on an inflatable mattress, and Alison and I have made a nest in the hay loft. We keep the vehicles packed up at all times, just in case we need to vacate in a hurry.
This morning I saw a lone infected man walking up the road aimlessly. My instincts told me to go shoot it down, but I let it wander away. I hope I don’t regret my decision. Jim is up on his feet and moving slowly. He is a tough old bird. He and I had a talk about the immediate future.
He is grateful for our staying with him and his wife but doesn’t want to be a burden. He told me to keep the codebook for now, as he doesn’t feel like he’s out of the woods yet.
After he walked away, I got to thinking about where we are going to go from here. Marion is a biology professor and has a working knowledge of medicine (that’s a plus), and Jim (once he is back on his feet) could be a valuable asset with his knowledge and experience. I had a brief thought that he would make a good leader for our little tribe here (if he and his wife even want to stay with us, or for that matter, if we want to stay with them). But then I thought about Karl and the notion left as quickly as it came.
Either way, we are going to need more food stores. If we split up we can’t very well leave Jim and Marion with nothing, and we can’t afford to give them half of our provisions. This is not a decision I can make alone. Tomorrow I will hold a meeting so we can collectively decide our fate.
DAY 71
This morning Marion asked if I would check on a family they knew who lived nearby.
She and Jim had stayed with them for a few days when they first arrived in the area. They are a Mormon family named the Walkers. They have six daughters and five sons. Jim told me they are friendly enough, but not to aim any weapons at them if I wanted them to stay that way.
Albert agreed to go with me. We packed up some venison as a peace offering, and with Marion’s crude directions, set off to go find them in the Land Rover.
When we arrived at the Walker’s farm it looked abandoned. We got out of the Rover and walked toward the main house (keeping our weapons aimed at the ground). We stood in the front yard for a good five minutes before I walked up onto the porch and knocked on the door. Nothing.
Just as I was about to try the door handle, I caught a reflection of movement in the window. Someone was behind me. I turned as something lunged at me and slammed me against the house. It was an infected man. He snapped his teeth at my neck and I pushed away, tripping and falling onto my back. The creature reached down for me and I kicked my feet up into its stomach, holding it back.
My carbine was under me so I drew my .45 and fired into the thing’s knee. Its leg buckled and it stumbled, falling to the porch. I fired again, this time blowing the back of its head out in a black, red mist. I rolled over onto my knees and scrambled to my feet. My ears were ringing. I turned and ran into somebody. For a moment I thought it was Albert, but my nose warned me that it was another one of Them.
I jammed my pistol into its sternum and fired twice, sending the monster stumbling back against the porch railing. I fired into the creature’s face and it flipped over the railing and landed face down in the dirt. I looked out into the yard and saw a plague victim on top of Albert, snapping at his face as he held it off of him.
I vaulted the railing and ran up to him. I grabbed the monster by the back of its hair (it used to be a teen age girl), and threw it to the ground. It thrashed and struggled as I stomped my foot into its chest, pinning it down. It glared at me with milky eyes and snapped its jaws and clawed at my leg. I shot it in the forehead.
Albert got to his feet and we raced for the Rover. I started it up and tore out of the driveway. Half way up the dirt road I slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. A cloud of dust billowed up around us, and then drifted away.
Albert looked at me, panicked.
“What the hell are you doing?” he cried.
I looked in the rearview mirror and then scanned the area around us. I looked at Albert and as calmly as I could, told him that we had to go back.
“Why?” he asked.
“I’m guessing that we just met the Walkers, which means they’re probably all infected.” I said. Albert shook his head, not understanding.
“That means they won’t need their supplies or food.” I continued. I felt like an asshole being so practical about it, but I didn’t have the luxury of trying to be decent right now.
“Marion said they have young children.” Albert whispered.
“That are probably infected and wandering around somewhere waiting to bite our asses off.” I finished.
Albert shook his head, obviously not liking the idea of gunning down kids, infected or not.
I turned around and pulled back up in front of the house. I got out and retrieved the shotgun. There was no need for subtlety at that point. If anything, I wanted to attract all the family members. I knew we were looking for at least ten more creatures. I looked back to see Albert still sitting in the SUV, staring at me wide eyed. I shook my head and racked a round into the chamber.
I heard running footsteps and saw a teenaged boy come racing out from behind the house. I shot him in the chest and his feet flipped forward out from under him. He landed on his ass and I immediately racked a round and fired into his head, shattering his skull. His upper body dropped to the ground and lay motionless. I racked another round into the chamber.
I flipped the shotgun into the crook of my arm and speed loaded three more rounds into the tube. Just as I put the weapon back to my shoulder I heard a piercing wail that sent chills down my spine. Two little girls came running out of the field toward me, screeching.
I fired and the first load of buckshot hit one girl in the neck, almost decapitating her. She stumbled and fell. The second girl kept coming and I waited until she was almost on me before butt stroking her in the face.
I felt her tiny skull collapse. She flopped to the ground, twitching several times before she went still. I felt sick in my gut. I guess I wasn’t as much of a bad ass as I thought. I racked another round, flipped the weapon over, and speed loaded another round into the tube.
At least seven more to go, I thought. I didn’t think I would have the stomach for it. I heard numerous hungry moans coming from somewhere near the house. I stalked toward the sound, my shotgun at the ready. I stopped in front of something that looked like a raised manhole cover in the middle of the side yard. The wails were definitely coming from under the lid.
I grabbed the handle and yanked the cover up, jumping back for safety. When nothing sprang out of the hole under the lid I cautiously eased forward. I twisted on the weapon mounted- flashlight and shined it into the darkness. There was a ladder leading down approximately fifteen feet. At the bottom was some kind of cavern, or shelter. Several undead creatures peered up and moaned, clawing and reaching for me.
I set my jaw and fired down into them, racking and firing over and over. I reloaded and repeated the process until I could hear nothing other than the high-pitched whine in my ruined ears. I shined my light down and saw a mass of ruined, bloody flesh.
There was no movement or sounds coming from the hole. I reloaded six more rounds and fell to my knees, suddenly exhausted.
I heard Albert approach me but didn’t look up. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I felt wretched and horrified by what I had done. Something that had been pent up inside of me came rushing out and I began sobbing uncontrollably. I can’t explain it. Infected or not, I had killed a family for their food. I hated what I had become.
“I’m sorry I didn’t help you.” Albert said simply.
My self-loathing was short lived because we both heard a screen door slam from around the back of the house. I sniffed back my tears and got my head back in the game. An elderly woman came around the corner holding a bolt-action rifle.
“You killed my babies!” she wailed.
She raised her weapon and my instincts took over. I racked a round into the chamber and took aim at her torso. Just as I began squeezing the trigger, I heard a whap sound from behind me. The old woman stopped in her tracks and stared at me. There was a small black dot on her forehead. She dropped to the ground, dead.
I turned to Albert. He lowered his carbine, his expression stoic. I sighed heavily, trying not to let my emotions resurface. Without speaking, we proceeded to clear the house. The basement was the most nerve-racking part of our job. There was a tunnel down there that led to the manhole cover and the slaughter I had initiated.
I guess the old lady had trapped her infected family in the cellar. Who knows what she had been thinking.
We found the family’s food stores and a weapons cache. We took everything we could, filling the back of the Rover. I’m sure we left a lot of things we could have used, but I just wanted to get away from there so we didn’t spend much time exploring. We drove back to our barn in silence. I could tell Albert wanted to talk, but I ignored him, not trusting myself to speak.
When we got back, Albert tried to tell Marion and Jim that the family was already dead when we got there, but I stopped him and told them the truth. They listened without comment.
Marion buried her face in Jim’s shoulder and cried quietly. Jim looked at me intently and finally nodded, acknowledging that what I did was necessary.
The justification that my actions have allowed us to survive longer does not make me feel any better. Alison reassured me that I made the right decision, but I know she is just trying to be supportive, regardless of what she really feels. I thought that writing this all down would help me come to terms with what I did, but it hasn’t. I am disgusted with myself, yet strangely numb.
DAY 72
I have learned to appreciate uneventful days.
Today we spent most of the day inventorying our supplies. With the vegetables we found in the garden, the left over deer meat, and the food and medical supplies we found at the Walkers, we have enough food to last us approximately three weeks. All things considered, that doesn’t seem like a lot.
We are replenishing our water from the stream nearby. As for our supplies, we now have two more bolt-action rifles (chambered in .308), three .38 revolvers, another Ruger 10/22, and approximately 200 rounds of .308, 150 rounds of .38, and 400 more rounds of .22. We also scrounged two large cooking pots and a propane canister.
I have come to terms with my actions from yesterday and have chalked up my emotional freak out to lack of sleep and stress. I’m probably suppressing something traumatizing that will blow up in my face someday, but I’ll just have to deal with it then.
Albert apologized for about the hundredth time for not helping me dispatch the Walker family. I told him that he was there when it counted. That old lady would have probably shot me if he hadn’t gotten her first.