The first report I heard was that “several walkers are converging from all sides!” That got me thinking back to that attack in the field that almost got me killed and ended with near starvation in a school gymnasium. Is it possible that the zombies are
learning
? I’ve seen too many of them stuck in seatbelts, or pawing at a window while a big rock sits a few feet away to be totally convinced.
There was a long period where the radio was silent. Then, it got worse. When you are worried about someone, you might think silence is the worst possible thing. Wrong. Som
ehow, a radio was keyed, and there was the sudden wave of sound from a terrible fight.
Gunfire came in bursts. There were people shouting things like “I need ammo!” “Who just got bit?” “Put her down! Don’t let her suffer!” All of this mixed in with moans, groans, and the eerie cries of the undead. Later, I heard that a lot of the compound rushed outside because they could hear the echo of the distant gunfire. Those folks
knew
it was our people. Each one wondering if it was their friends, family, or loved one. At least they couldn’t hear the screams. It had been awhile since I’d heard
that
particular sound. The pure and unbridled shrieking of somebody who is seeing parts of their body torn out and feasted upon. The sound of somebody who, at that moment, wishes for death to hurry so the agony will cease.
Nobody noticed, but during the madness, a contraction hit me, hard. I made it to a chair and worked through it. Sudde
nly, I felt like it would be terribly inappropriate to express any reaction to the pain, seeing as how a group of people were fighting for their lives and some had already lost that battle. Eventually, they spaced out like they always do, leaving me feeling disappointed and frustrated. Only this time I was able to add guilt to my catalog of emotions because of my self-centeredness while others were, at that very moment, having it much worse.
I made it back to my feet in time to listen as the response team arrived. They put down the rest and suddenly it was quiet. I mean just like that. Silence.
Tom and Monica came to me with a pair of files. It was a log of activity from a couple of roving bands. I was asked to start trying to raise them. I was given very specific instructions as to what I could say. It was also made clear that I was to say nothing outside of the very defined parameters. I would attempt to arrange a meeting at a location from a list provided.
Using their known frequencies, I was able to schedule both meetings. Tom is actually going in person to meet the group scheduled for tomorrow. However, this evening, Monica went into the private room and, as I was going home, a six-person squad was leaving. Putting two-and-two together, our people are putting guns in place in the event this meeting doesn’t go as planned. Didn’t we leave this crap behind? I of all people understand the need to withhold trust. I understand being ca
utious. But damn, if you are that worried, why even bother trying to bring them in. Has it really come to the point where we need to set-up an ambush team?
Thursday, March 19
Eleven new residents are now part of the Community. I take back all I said about how gaunt, scared, and vacant the folks here look. I couldn’t tell men from women in this group except for facial hair. And the smell! Oh. My. God. The zombies smell better than these people.
I had a friend who travelled overseas. He said that we Americans have no real concept of poverty or suffering. He told me that what he saw made him have a new appreciation for his life and the comfort in which he lived. I think I understand that a li
ttle better now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still leaving as soon as I’m able. I simply realize that I have had it much better than probably a lot of survivors out there.
The first few months, before everything really started spoiling, food was not hard to come by. Times have changed that now. Yet, I’ve always managed. I mean, really, I’ve had ice cream for crying out loud. How much suffering have I
really
endured.
Dennis certified all the newbies as being clean—at least of zombie markings. Right now they are all being treated to warm baths in a few hot tubs. I saw a couple of them actually bursting into tears at the sight of steaming water and clean to
wels. Talk about making a person feel self-conscious about how fortunate they’ve been.
One of their party is pregnant. There is a certain icky-factor to it though. She has no idea who the father is or if he is one of the group that is still alive. That, and she is fifteen. Or, at least she claims to be. Maybe it’s just me, but that little girl doesn’t look a day over twelve.
Something else that isn’t sitting right. The other three women in this group are not currently pregnant. But I overheard Dennis telling Monica that at least two “show signs” of having been so recently. Only, there aren’t any babies.
Friday, March 20
The second group was brought in today. They only had four people in their little band. All were male, one was a boy no older than seven. It was
almost
comical seeing the little guy packing a pair of .22 caliber pistols on his hips. They didn’t look too rugged. In fact, while they were happy to be here, they certainly didn’t look overwhelmed by the surroundings.
One of them is a real-life doctor. I think Dennis was ha
ppier than any other resident. Today was cloudy, rainy, and a bit cold. I don’t believe anybody noticed.
Tuesday, March 24
I no longer trust my body. It seems that every single day I think I’m going into labor. Doctor Gene Cameriski has checked me out and says I can have the baby any day. I told him to tell the baby that. He promptly placed a rolled up piece of paper against my stomach and, using it like a megaphone, said “Hey! Baby! You can come out any day!”
I thought Janie was going to pass a lung she laughed so hard. Dennis looked nervous at first, like he thought I was gonna bite Doctor Gene’s head off. Do I really come off like that? I mean, am I that grouchy, cranky, mean, and bitchy?
I went with Lindsay to a movie today. She worked her normal shift, but got off early because the field workers filled the truck faster than expected. (We have a lot of squash and potatoes now.) Janie said that it would be nice if Lindsay and I got to do some bonding. So,
voila
! A movie. Today was some French film called
Amelie
. I’d never seen an actual foreign film until today. It was pretty good.
Wednesday, March 25
A fight broke out today. My first thought was that it was probably the newcomers. I couldn’t have been more wrong. First off, it was a couple of females. For another, one of them was Crystal Johnson. The rumor is that it was about Crystal sending an unruly student home.
I’ve said it before, but this place is becoming too much like the society we once knew. What’s next? Parents fighting at a little league game? Road rage on the jogging path? This place is striving so hard to be civilized, it’s bringing
everything
along without trying to weed out the bad stuff. And I don’t think they even notice.
Thursday, March 26
Very proud of myself today. Thought I was in labor again. But, as always, it was just another biological practical joke.
Doctor Gene came by the living quarters today and gave me an exam. I won’t deny that having a man poking around
down
there
in my bedroom is a bit weird. He did say that the baby is in position. Once again I heard the dreaded words, “Any day now, Meredith.”
Monday, March 30
I was sent home today. The consensus is that they would rather me not go through another stressful event this close to delivery. Their reason? The Sunset Fortress underwent an attack today that lasted over three hours. I was doing fine until I heard Jenifer’s voice.
“They’ve got flamethrowers over here!” she screamed. I heard orders being given to “Take out the flamethrowers! Take out—” Then there were screams. Terrible screams. I couldn’t tell if they belonged to a man or woman. The battle continued, and I started to cry at some point. Then, while trying to stop, I hype
rventilated. The poor people in the Comm Center were in mid-crisis when the pregnant lady passes out and slides out of her chair onto the floor.
I’m not very popular right now with my co-workers. On the positive side, while Doctor Gene was checking me and li
stening to heartbeats, all that doctor stuff, I hear this voice, “Tell Jonathan to come get his stupid dog!” Jenifer was okay! And Jonathan! And Coach! At least I didn’t have to wonder. That might’ve driven me over the edge.
Now…if only this baby would GET THE HELL OUT OF ME!
Wednesday, April 1
Only forty-eight hours into this employment exile and I’m ready to go insane. If one more person asks me if I’m okay, I may kill them. Don’t get me wrong, I was no fan of the aut
omated routine this place subscribes to, I’m just sick of doing abso-friggin’-lutely nothing.
Please, God, if you’re out there, and you’re listening, get this baby out of me. Oh yeah! And make him or her healthy.
Amen.
Saturday, April 4
It’s dark. It’s late. But something feels strange.
Sunday, April 5
Note from Janie: At 7:55 this morning Snoe Elana Gainey was born. Labor lasted seventeen hours. Doctors Dennis VanDelay and Gene Cameriski were assisted by Monica Campinelli. Snoe was seven pounds, four ounces, bald as a cue ball, and possessed a healthy set of lungs along with her mother’s temper.
Lindsay Wells held the cord while Janie Wells (me!) cut it. Both mother and daughter are doing fine! Rules were ‘viola
ted’ and we transmitted our first outgoing message to another community. The people of the Sunset Fortress sent their best wishes!
Monday, April 6
Note to self: Those little pains that I
thought
were contractions? Ha! There was nothing about that experience that I care to ever repeat. That said, Snoe is absolutely precious. Her namesake would approve.
Janie and Lindsay approached me late last night, and I could tell they were both nervous. I told them to just spit it out. I knew by their hesitation that it was Snoe-related. Breast-feeding. This place has a fairly interesting, if not archaic program.
Wet-nurses
. Yep, women whose sole function it is to breast-feed babies.
I thought it over. It makes sense actually. There certainly isn’t a surplus of formula to be had. I agreed to feed Snoe for the first week or so. They already have a lady selected. They wanted to know if I’d like to meet her. I thought it over and I decided that I would, but only because I can see how much it means to those two.
All three of us have been given ten days off from work to have time with the baby. Two of “us” are thrilled. One of us just wants to get on her feet and gear up for a trip outside the fence. Is it weird to miss killing zombies? I’m gonna vote yes, but accept it as who I am now.
Tuesday, April 7
I took a long walk today. Just hung to the perimeter and walked. I carried Snoe in a contraption that was sorta like a sling. She seemed to like it. A few times I felt a slight tug in my heart, like maybe I should stay. Maybe this life isn’t so bad. Then my brain would wake up. Also, I had to stop periodically to feed the baby. Maybe something is wrong with me, but I don’t much care for it. I’d be one of those mothers that people
tsk-tsk’d
because I would have been a bottle feeder if there was a choice.
She is an absolute doll–-when she isn’t screaming. Also, I’d like to correct an early report that Snoe is bald. She has fine, wispy hair that—at least to my eyes—shows a touch of red. I bet she grows up to be a redhead or a strawberry-blonde.
I did face some hurt feelings when I got back from my walk. Janie and Lindsay were both hurt that, not only did I NOT tell them what I was doing today, but I didn’t invite either or both of them. At first I was ready to give them a little piece of my mind; then I remembered that Snoe is
their
daughter, technically.
Wednesday, April 8
WE went for a walk today. After two hours, the gals were ready to pack it in. From there on, they walked with me in shifts. I don’t think that those two realize what it takes to survive out there.
As for Snoe, she loves it. Sometimes, I glance down and see her just staring up at me, her tiny face peeking out of the tightly wrapped swaddling blanket. I don’t care what anybody thinks or says, that child is studying me, like she is trying to r
emember every detail.
Thursday, April 9
Today I left Snoe with Janie and Lindsay. I thought they were both gonna start crying. Seems that they wanted some quality time with her, but didn’t want to say anything. I guess they were worried that I’d be mad.
Today I started jogging. Short intervals. Ten minutes at a time followed by brisk walking. My mommy parts still feel like somebody hit them with a bush-axe. Doctor Gene pulled me up at one point and told me “The zombies aren’t all gonna vanish, Meredith. Try to ease into things a bit.” Uh, what does he think I’ve
been
doing?
My request to go out on a search, scavenge, and scouting run was denied! Something about how I might end up a liability if things get tight. These people have no idea who they’re talking to. They’ve lived their past year or more behind a fence. I’ve been out there!
One major change since Snoe’s birth here: this place now stays in regular contact with the folks at Sunset. There is talk of a possible merge! While some see that as great, I see it as further reason to be out of here soon.
Saturday, April 11
I got a bunch of strange looks today. I did a walk-jog-run combo carrying a backpack loaded with thirty pounds. These people really do not understand why I want to leave.
One of the newcomers joined me at one point and asked why I would willingly go back out there. I tried my best to e
xplain how living behind a fence and a barricade isn’t living. That there is a difference between
living
and
existing
. He didn’t understand. I just don’t like living in a cage, no matter how gilded it may be.
Monday, April 13
Today I sat down with Tom, Monica, Dennis, and Doctor Gene. Tomorrow is as good a day as any to leave. I asked them what I would be “allowed” to take. They said I had
carte blanche
to gear up any way I’d like. And of course I would always be welcome back. They even asked if I wanted a radio. I told them “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I really liked my wheeled, harnessed cart. So today, I loaded up with a case of water that’s been filtered through a p
urifier. Also I took a nifty water-bottle that has a filter built in and about a hundred little disc-cartridges to swap out as needed (they claim to be good for up to three months). I have an assortment of food. My big luxury is a jar of peanut butter. Then there is my weapons load, 10-gauge shotgun with a hundred shells, twin military-issue .45 caliber handguns and five hundred rounds, plus four spare magazines, a .22 caliber Remington rifle, 1000 rounds, a sweet 18-inch blade that I can wear on my back, a crossbow (yay!) with fifty bolts for it, and last, but not least, a special set of gloves. They are lined with a fine mesh inside, but come with an attachment that goes over the knuckles that has a four inch spike. It is padded enough so as not to bust up the hand. How cool is that?
Also, I have some spare clothes, some heavy stuff for bad weather, two sets of leather arm and leg guards with the mesh lining and studs, and a cap that has an extension that wraps around the neck. I got a Kevlar vest, it’s bulky, but I love it. Then there is the standard camping load out. I’m set.
This evening I will spend time with Janie, Lindsay, and Snoe. I know the girls will be excited to have the baby to themselves. Tonight we will just hang out. I’ll leave in the morning with Lindsay. I can hitch a ride to the plot that her team works and start out from there. I need to get this to Monica so she can make a copy of it. I asked if it could be given to Snoe when she’s old enough.
Tuesday, April 14
Staying tonight in an old barn. It is kinda cold and drafty, but I love it! I’m sitting in a loft only accessible by a half-ladder that somebody cut the bottom off of so that you have to climb up on a sawhorse then jump to catch the bottom rung. I got up, tested the planked floor, then pulled my gear up.
Right now I am sitting in the open doorway, looking out at the Coastal Range, watching the sun set in a beautiful display of reds, pinks, oranges, and purples. In the field that stretches out before me I see a trio of zombies. They are veering away from me, towards some distant trees. Weird…but they were the first mobile ones I’ve seen all day. Of course, this is this boonies. There isn’t another house for another couple miles in either d
irection.
Doctor Gene would be happy. He told me I needed to take things a bit slower. First day out and I didn’t need to kill anything. I walked maybe a dozen miles. I didn’t run or even have to climb until I got inside this barn. I think I’ll go to sleep watching the stars.
Wednesday, April 15
Another year and I forgot to do my taxes. Damn! Oh well, all is not lost. I learned a very valuable lesson today. Be careful when you wake up.
I had to work a lot harder than if I’d been more aware and a little less programmed. I woke to the sound of Snoe crying. I probably called out three or four times, “Janie! You gonna get that?” The last couple days she and Lindsay had insisted that they get up with the baby. (The nurse always leaves plenty for overnights.)
Finally I sat up, just a bit annoyed at how Janie was so obviously not taking care of things as she should. Then, I noticed where I was. That evil sound drifted up to me. (Did I mention that I get all leaky when I hear a baby cry? I sure hope those wells dry up soon!) I looked down and saw a shadowy form wande
ring in and out of the empty stalls below. Then I heard a low moan drifting on the morning breeze. I scrambled to that open door that had allowed me such a beautiful view last night. Four more shadowy figures were pawing at the wooden double-doors trying to get in. A crash had me scurrying back to the ladder going down. Five more were coming through the wide open entrance on the opposite end, and now I could see more of them down below. There had to be at least three pinballing off each other in the stall just to my left, and another couple in the one just to my right. Beyond that, I couldn’t see.
Great
. I sighed and sat back to wait for a little sunlight to kill by, as long as it doesn’t get too much more crowded, I should be able to handle it. And there couldn’t possibly be enough of those things nearby to be that much of a threat. Could there? So, I sat and hoped that a herd didn’t show up in the meantime.
By the time the sun rose enough for me to see worth a damn, there were a total of twenty-three down below. Some i
nside and some outside the barn. Their single-mindedness never ceases to amaze me. The group outside, clawing and gnawing on the wall, were still there going at it. Those were the easy kills. I took top-shots with my trusty crossbow. The problem came later when I went out to retrieve my bolts. Two had to be dug out of the body cavity and one had to be liberated from the leg! Very gross.
Once I dealt with the easy targets, it was a matter of li
ning up my shots on the ones inside the barn. Thinking back, I was a little hasty. I was so anxious to take them out that I never thought until after that they were coming right to me. I could’ve let them cluster down below and taken them out the same way I’d done the others outside.
Once I finished that task, retrieved my bolts, and cleaned them, I set out again. I’d already had breakfast in the terminally long time it seemed to take for the sun to come up, so I was e
ager to start walking. I noticed how “soft” I’d become. The harness straps felt like they were sawing into my shoulders, my legs felt as dead as that stack of meat I’d left behind at the barn, and then there was some residual pain in the mommy parts region that did not so much hinder as annoy. Oh…and I’m still leaky.
I’ve found a very interesting place to sleep tonight. I’m in the attic of a non-descript house. I have a perfect view of a small airfield. The airfield looks like it was a hastily thrown t
ogether project by the military. There are several dozen military vehicles inside the fenced perimeter. A lot of them look like they’ve been shot up, in many cases with rockets or something like that.
Oh boy! My first little adventure! First thing tomorrow of course. I won’t risk a run inside at night. Oh yeah, did I mention that a small, single-engine Cessna-type plane landed just after dark? At least one person is alive in there.
Thursday, April 16
Jeff Young and Rodney Glenn are a pair of Special For
ces soldiers. They are the only two survivors of a sixty-man unit that came in seven months ago. They’d moved up from Salem. Before that, they’d been up in Washington State at Fort Lewis. When things disintegrated, a couple of battalions of Army Rangers fought it out amongst themselves! No wonder this country fell apart so damned quick, when those responsible for our safety turn out to be just as bass-ackward as the lunatics that have been running wild out here, it doesn’t bode well.
These two did have some interesting news. They’ve been flying out, usually early morning or at dusk, making circular pa
tterns to see what sort of survivability exists. They know of a dozen sites like Sam’s compound and Sunset. Then there are other smaller pockets (they guess close to a hundred!) that show what they deem considerable activity.