On the plus side, we didn’t lose anybody. There were a few bruises and scrapes, but the zombie threat was only minimal. This was all about the menace of living, breathing types. Jonathan and Rodney checked my injuries. That femur-spear has left me with a pretty nasty purple and black bruise on my right shoulder where it connects. I’m told I was lucky. It doesn’t take much to break a collarbone. Or, if it would have actually punctured me…it could have been particularly nasty. Not to mention that my little mission would be over before it even began.
So…I’m gonna find a little spot in a dark corner and sleep. I can’t wait to see how my body feels tomorrow. I miss Tylenol. I used to be the type who always said no to being medicated, but I really hurt. A lot.
Saturday, April 25
I hope everything went okay. Rodney isn’t back yet, and nobody can get these women to eat, drink, or talk. Add in that Jenifer slipped out at some point and came back late this afternoon, and my stress level is just a bit amped. Of course, Jenifer won’t say a word as to what she did or where she went. At least she came back clean.
Sunday, April 26
Rodney and Kenny arrived early this morning. We loaded those women up and moved out. There were three women from Sunset in this big van. It was crowded, but nobody is enforcing the seatbelt law.
When they left, I asked why they didn’t bring a bigger rig, Kenny said that the next biggest was a full-length school bus. They didn’t believe it would be able to navigate a few of the more congested obstacles.
Whatever. They’re out of the picture now, and we were able to move out. I couldn’t put this place behind me quick enough. I got a really bad case of the willies.
I don’t know what exactly Jenifer saw or heard. I know what I saw, and it bothered me. I remember that whole incident with Scott and Sasha that Perry hadn’t let me see. I read about it in Sam’s journal and remember being upset. Only, I think I was more upset that Perry’d felt I needed protecting. What I saw has me shook and I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried to brush it off the past couple of days. It hasn’t worked. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, even if only to blink, I see that mutilated newborn’s corpse. I see that girl hanging by the wrists with an umbilical cord dangling between her legs.
I know I can’t unsee something, but I wish my mind would do some mental magic and block that image from my memory. And I can’t help but wonder, what did Jenifer see? How much worse could it have been? Of course, maybe I am just being a girl about things. I glance at Jeff and Rodney every so often and see nothing. They’re entirely focused on the next step.
You know how I know I’m slipping? I know that a couple of us—Jonathan among them—had a tousle with a zombie that night. I never thought to check anybody out. Shandra did. What’s more? She checked
me
while I was
sleeping
!
Tonight, we are just past that huge cemetery. We’re actually staying in the same complex we stayed in when it was just Jenifer, Jonathan, Shari, Coach, and me. No deer this time though. Too bad.
Monday, April 27
The left side of my face feels like it was run over by a truck. We’re still in the same place as yesterday. It is raining hard outside and the wind shakes the windows. I’ve honestly never heard anything like it.
I woke up first and had a quick chat with Kenny who was on watch. We were using the apartment across the hall as the bathroom; so, after some pleasantries, I went to take care of a few things. My plumbing has been a concern the past few days since “the incident” and I was anxious for any signs of improvement.
The apartment wasn’t a concern as far as using it as a bathroom. I mean it’s not like zombies sneak upstairs and open doors. We’d swept it. Empty. I had my spear and the pistol on my hip strictly out of habit. I wasn’t thinking about them.
I went in, closed the door, set my spear against the wall next to the door, and went into the bathroom. I undid my webbed belt and sat my gun on the counter. It was still pretty dark and I couldn’t really see. Not to be gross, but I needed to see what was going on. The easiest way seemed to be just slip off my pants and panties and go to a window in the bedroom across the hall for a look. So that’s what I did.
I never saw the guy. He grabbed me by the hair from behind and slammed me face first into the wooden chest at the foot of the bed. I tasted blood, but that was the least of my problems. Things were getting fuzzy on the edges and I could hear this guy mumbling all sorts of horrible things about what he wanted to do to me. I gathered myself and tried to break loose. That’s when he slammed my face on the wooden chest again. A metal hinge busted me open good just above my left eye. I’m certain I lost consciousness for a moment, because the next thing I recall was feeling something trying to shove itself inside me.
I felt a tearing, and the pain woke me up completely. Gripping the sides of the cedar chest I was bent over, I jerked hard to the left with my hips and kicked back with my feet. The idiot still had his pants around his ankles and fell. He let loose with a satisfying yelp. I think I sprained his poor wee-wee. I tried to stand, but that made me woozy. Grabbing the wall, I staggered a bit as I made my way across the hall into the bathroom.
I’m certain this perverted animal simply thought he’d hit the jackpot. There’s no way he suspected I was armed and in the company of friends. As I drew the gun from its holster and turned towards the cursing, angry man who was vowing to “make me pay” in all sorts of horrid ways, I heard Kenny open the front door and call my name. My attacker stepped into the doorway across the hall. I could see a perfect black silhouette. I pulled the trigger. Four times.
Of course Kenny came running. I think he was more embarrassed than I was when he burst in to discover me half-naked. At that moment, I truly did not care. I walked over to my would-be rapist, shoving Kenny away to reach him. He wasn’t dead yet, and even in the gloom I could see his face. Blood was bubbling from his mouth and nose.
Good
, I thought, he was drowning on his own blood. I made sure to look him in the eyes until he let that last breath go in a gurgle.
By then, everybody was there. The women had clustered around me. The men were standing back. There were whispered conversations, but I didn’t listen. My eyes drifted down between his legs, he’d only started to pull up his pants, and when I shot him, they’d fallen back down to mid-thigh. I stared at
my
blood smeared on him. But I didn’t cry. I shut off the pain. All of it.
Eventually they got me to return to our apartment. Jenifer, Darla, and Shandra took me into one of the two bedrooms. None of them is a nurse, but they insisted on looking me over. I allowed it, laying back, closing my eyes and rejoicing that I didn’t see the chopped-up infant or its poor mother. Instead, I saw my attacker full of pain, and his fear of the death that was taking him from this world.
The guys did a check. Fortunately, my shooting didn’t seem to draw much attention. They had to take out a few of the nearby zombies that were poking around. Really minor if I believe what they say. Whatever the case, the consensus was that a nasty storm was rolling in and we’d do better waiting it out right here. So, that’s exactly what we are doing.
Tuesday, April 28
The rain is dying down, but the wind doesn’t want to let up. People are starting to piss me off, and I hurt. Everywhere.
I get it. I’ve suffered a “traumatic event”, but with the whole “end-of-the-world” thing happening, and with what I’ve been through already, I just can’t dwell on it. Besides, I’m not the one with a ventilated lung lying dead under a black bedsheet. Oh, and who in the hell amongst normal people has black bedsheets? If you were into the whole Goth thing, fine. But normal people?
I had to argue with everybody to actually stand my watch shift. When I said I’d be willing to fight if that’s what it took to prove I was okay, they let me alone. So, right now, I’m sitting in a chair by the sliding-glass door that opens up on a wooden porch. I can see the lot below, the building across the way. Once in a while, something shambles past. But nothing has given any indication that our location has been discovered.
Shamble
. What a great word. I don’t think living people can really pull it off. The whole shambling thing that is. That reminds me of a friend I had…
before
. He used to say that you couldn’t really frolic unless you were in a meadow. He was a funny, weird guy. I’ll bet he’s good at shambling now.
Wednesday, April 29
Finally! We’re back on the move! I didn’t think I could stay in that musty, smelly apartment one more day. Tonight, we’re sleeping in a beautiful five-bedroom tri-level. The day was uneventful except for a huge explosion south of us. It happened about an hour ago. We’re only a few hours past midday, but the vote was to get out of sight for a while.
Jeff wanted to go investigate with a partner or by himself, but got voted down. First reason; we can’t spare him. Second reason; we absolutely can’t spare him. He’s sulking now and it’s kinda cute. Big, tough Army Ranger pouting like a spoiled child. I mean, when I do it…well…it’s me. But when a big guy like Jeff does it, it’s just too funny.
Thursday, April 30
We’ve reached an overpass that signs call, “SW Zoo Rd.” Tonight we had to camp in some thick woods on the south side of Highway 26. The plan is for Jeff, Rodney, and I to scout up into the area across the highway tomorrow. What we saw today has everybody just a little quiet.
It seems The Genesis Brotherhood has been busy. There are crosses erected down the center of Highway 26. Fifty of them by our count. Three contained women, the rest, men and a few boys. These people were crucified
Passion of the Christ
-style. We actually had to look to be able to tell that three of them were women.
Each of these crosses is about ten yards from the next one. At the bases are mobs of undead. The only deviation from the Jesus-style crucifixion is the small ledge for the feet. They’re nailed to it, but this lets them stand, ensuring a much more prolonged and painful death. That ledge is about a foot or so out of reach of all the zombies gathered at each base.
None of those people are dead yet! I voted that we kill each one and put them out of their misery, but I was vetoed. The noise was only one factor. That these poor souls may be decoys is a common suspicion amongst my fellow travelers. To add to the bizarreness, each one has a “crime” posted above his or her head. Some are easy to decipher: Drunkard, Pornographer, Thief. Then there are the others: Witch, Blasphemer…and my favorite—Se-ditious Spirit.
Friday, May 1
The zoo was a nightmare. It had nothing to do with the few dozen zombies we had to put down. It was the animals.
There is no question that the zombies had absolutely zero interest in these creatures. Instead, it is a wasteland of starved carcasses. There is an indication that some animals turned on each other. Nowhere is that more apparent than the chimpanzee exhibit. There was only one chimp, emaciated and dead, in the huge cage. However, there are bones and skulls littering the ground. The dark stains everywhere tell a horrific story. The zoo had small plaques with pictures and names of eighteen chimpanzees. After seeing this, we were really glad there were only three gorillas. The entire primate center is absolutely revolting. The level of carnage is heart-breaking.
The elephants were a sad sight, but it was the bear exhibits that we saw the most pathetic thing in this nightmarish place. I have no idea how many polar bears this place had. Only one remained. There was something about its paws. They were black with old, dried blood. A closer look, and it was Rodney who noticed the scarring in the cement wall. That last remaining polar bear had tried to climb out. It looks like he broke off his claws in the process. Like I said, this place is a nightmare.
We searched and found something of use. Cases and cases of bottled water. That is like finding gold, and no matter where you are fortunate enough to run across it, you always feel good about it. Whoever had looted this place obviously hit the food vendors. What they ignored was the souvenir shop. I had a hard time resisting the headband with the elephant ears. Well…I didn’t completely resist. I tried them on. I don’t care what Jeff and Rodney say, they were cute.
Saturday, May 2
More signs of The Genesis Brotherhood. Well…more like sounds. They are building a case for crazy. Try as I might, I just can’t reconcile any of their antics or atrocities. Call them what you want.
We moved in and through what had once been Washington Park. There are rose bushes everywhere. I remember now that Portland called itself “The Rose City” and they obviously took it seriously. I bet this place was absolutely gorgeous back when it was cared for. Although, there is something to be said about the wildness it possesses now.