Well today it’s back to duty.
It’s Friday and the weather, if a bit chilly this morning, is wonderful. When I get home this evening I hope to place another ‘beginning’ installment out there for people to see.
Today’s assignment; Search and Rescue.
Not my most favorite of jobs. Seems people are always getting hurt or killed on these types of runs. Luckily we are only going just outside of town to check the houses within five miles of the Depot. We received contact via short-wave and CB radio of all things. We hope to recover those stuck or without a way to get here safely. The dead seemed to be roaming in packs. We observed a few individuals come together in a field and then left as a group in an entirely different direction. Very Sci-Fi that. Jake, who was with me at the time joked it was like they were sharing a hive-mind like ants. Great that is all we need.
The electric is still holding but according to Watson it is getting weaker. The Major is drawing up plans to go to the Dix Dam next week to see if we can keep the hydro-electric part going, since the coal and natural gas generators in the other plant will probably be shutting down soon without supplies.
Anyway, just a few brief taps on the keypad this morning before we ‘saddle up’ and head out.
I did receive some disturbing news that dulls the beauty of the day.
The Compound in Frankfort lost a child basically over infighting of political/religious views.
I wish them luck and my condolences.
Over.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The Beginning, Part Seven
The rest we needed we didn’t get.
That night the dead hit our fences. The perimeter guards fired a few rounds and got inside the Depot’s chain link fences, locking the gates behind them. The base's alarm screaming is what woke us up. I jumped up and dressed hap-hazardly (With my Wife’s help) grabbed my AR-15 and went to see what was up. People were running to the windows to see outside. I pushed past some half dressed people and went out the main doors. The flood lights showed our worst nightmare, undead at the gates. And the fence and the lot and the yards. Just about everywhere. There must have been about 100 or so, maybe more, the flood lights were pointed just at the fence perimeter. The fence was bulging in several places as the sheer mass of dead pressed against it. I saw one such place where no one was covering and quickly moved it. I drew back the bolt on my rifle and let it snap home. Then I remembered I only had one magazine, the one in the weapon. People were shouting and then the gun fire started. I shot slowly, aiming at the heads that appeared near the chain links. In less than two minutes I was empty and the fence was still being pushed inward. The poles, even though set in concrete, were starting to give near the ground; time and metal fatigue taking their toll. I took a moment to look around as I hurried back toward the building. Two spots were worse than the one I picked, one section the pole had snapped, but the poles on either side kept that section upright. The things were falling into it and the ones behind kept coming, so the fence was starting to lean in there almost at a 30 degree angle.
As I turned to go into the building I stopped up short as Odessa appeared out of the dark carrying her shotgun and a small black bag full of ammo.
‘I love you.’ I screamed above the din and kissed her quickly. I motioned at the weakened section of fence and we hustled there. John was already there; he too was out of ammo and was using a piece of rebar to stab through the fence.
‘I see dead people!’ he shouted with a smile as I handed him a magazine with my left hand. I just shook my head and flicked the bolt release on my rifle, slamming another bullet into the chamber.
It was near dawn when the last of the things were put down. We were all exhausted and nearly deaf from all the gun fire. Odessa’s shoulder was bruised from the shotguns' kick through the battle. At one point the section of fence we were at broke completely and we had some hairy moments until the Major and 4 men backed us up with shotguns, pushing and cutting the zombies back, so we could drive a Humvee into the gap, blocking the fence section. We then turned our attention to the remaining ones and slowly eradicated them. Miraculously no one was hurt. Okay no one was hurt by the dead. A few cuts, bruises and one unfortunate guy shot himself in the leg, but all in all a complete victory for our side.
The clean up was the worst. We all gloved up and tied clothes or whatever we had around our mouths and started dragging them outside into the field. Luckily we only had to move the Humvee and drag them through the hole. After the stack was made we used some kerosene and had us an undead bon-fire. Let’s just say no one roasted any marshmallows or hot dogs over it. By our fast and loose counting, we had destroyed 215 zombiefied citizens of our small town. That left a lot unaccounted for. Near noon we had the convoy ready and once again I was saddled with John. Two other men were there to get the bob cat and backhoe, William and Ricky Bobby (No I am not making this up). We first went out to Lowe's and liberated generators, tools and more fencing materials. My father had talked to the Major during the clean up and had drawn for him on paper how to reinforce the fences without having to take them out or starting over. That’s my Dad. WWII vet and machinist for my entire life. He showed us how to take pipe clamps and either a piece of pipe (ideally) or even 2X4s (not so good but works in a pinch) and at the half way point attach the reinforcement item and set it at a 45 degree angle out from the fence, inside, and making the amount of weight it can hold at least five times greater. This will work for now, but we will have to make a more permanent fence or wall around us if we are to keep them at bay.
One day at a time, one day at a time.
That night the dead hit our fences. The perimeter guards fired a few rounds and got inside the Depot’s chain link fences, locking the gates behind them. The base's alarm screaming is what woke us up. I jumped up and dressed hap-hazardly (With my Wife’s help) grabbed my AR-15 and went to see what was up. People were running to the windows to see outside. I pushed past some half dressed people and went out the main doors. The flood lights showed our worst nightmare, undead at the gates. And the fence and the lot and the yards. Just about everywhere. There must have been about 100 or so, maybe more, the flood lights were pointed just at the fence perimeter. The fence was bulging in several places as the sheer mass of dead pressed against it. I saw one such place where no one was covering and quickly moved it. I drew back the bolt on my rifle and let it snap home. Then I remembered I only had one magazine, the one in the weapon. People were shouting and then the gun fire started. I shot slowly, aiming at the heads that appeared near the chain links. In less than two minutes I was empty and the fence was still being pushed inward. The poles, even though set in concrete, were starting to give near the ground; time and metal fatigue taking their toll. I took a moment to look around as I hurried back toward the building. Two spots were worse than the one I picked, one section the pole had snapped, but the poles on either side kept that section upright. The things were falling into it and the ones behind kept coming, so the fence was starting to lean in there almost at a 30 degree angle.
As I turned to go into the building I stopped up short as Odessa appeared out of the dark carrying her shotgun and a small black bag full of ammo.
‘I love you.’ I screamed above the din and kissed her quickly. I motioned at the weakened section of fence and we hustled there. John was already there; he too was out of ammo and was using a piece of rebar to stab through the fence.
‘I see dead people!’ he shouted with a smile as I handed him a magazine with my left hand. I just shook my head and flicked the bolt release on my rifle, slamming another bullet into the chamber.
It was near dawn when the last of the things were put down. We were all exhausted and nearly deaf from all the gun fire. Odessa’s shoulder was bruised from the shotguns' kick through the battle. At one point the section of fence we were at broke completely and we had some hairy moments until the Major and 4 men backed us up with shotguns, pushing and cutting the zombies back, so we could drive a Humvee into the gap, blocking the fence section. We then turned our attention to the remaining ones and slowly eradicated them. Miraculously no one was hurt. Okay no one was hurt by the dead. A few cuts, bruises and one unfortunate guy shot himself in the leg, but all in all a complete victory for our side.
The clean up was the worst. We all gloved up and tied clothes or whatever we had around our mouths and started dragging them outside into the field. Luckily we only had to move the Humvee and drag them through the hole. After the stack was made we used some kerosene and had us an undead bon-fire. Let’s just say no one roasted any marshmallows or hot dogs over it. By our fast and loose counting, we had destroyed 215 zombiefied citizens of our small town. That left a lot unaccounted for. Near noon we had the convoy ready and once again I was saddled with John. Two other men were there to get the bob cat and backhoe, William and Ricky Bobby (No I am not making this up). We first went out to Lowe's and liberated generators, tools and more fencing materials. My father had talked to the Major during the clean up and had drawn for him on paper how to reinforce the fences without having to take them out or starting over. That’s my Dad. WWII vet and machinist for my entire life. He showed us how to take pipe clamps and either a piece of pipe (ideally) or even 2X4s (not so good but works in a pinch) and at the half way point attach the reinforcement item and set it at a 45 degree angle out from the fence, inside, and making the amount of weight it can hold at least five times greater. This will work for now, but we will have to make a more permanent fence or wall around us if we are to keep them at bay.
One day at a time, one day at a time.
The Begninnig, Part Six
So there we were. Surrounded by a horde of the undead in a CVS parking lot. Thankfully the military Humvee was one outfitted for Iraq or someplace, the windows were bullet resistant and it actually had some armor to it. The armor is not much but we were better off than say in a Dodge Minivan. The things clawed at the windows and pounded on the metal with their fists. Both of us were stunned enough to sit there but we did get a lot of data we subconsciously stored for use later. After the initial fright of these walking horror movie rejects having us penned inside the truck, we shook it off as we saw they were not smart enough to figure out the door latches; at least none of them near us had tried the doors yet.
‘Another fine mess you have gotten me into…’ John chuckled after a moment. I could not help but laugh. There must have been close to 30 or so circling us like vultures, scratching with their nails to get in with us. My eyes widened when I thought of something a bit displeasing. I rotated the key in the ignition switch and the engine roared to life. The dead heads were confused by the sound and moved a pace back from the truck. (I have noticed since then that really loud, deep sounds cause them confusion.) I dropped the vehicle into gear and we lurched forward with bone-crunching sound. We maybe went three feet before the press of creatures slowed our advance. John’s eyes widened when we rolled to a stop.
‘There’s a lot out there, seems maybe the crowd from the hospital picked up our scent. We need to get out of here, you know the back of this thing does not have a lock on it?’ I said as I jammed the truck in reverse and floored it. We stopped when we hit the front of the building, the remaining glass and some of bricks rained down on the roof of the Humvee. The stop was gut wrenching but it did what I needed, opened a space in front of us.
Slamming the heavy truck into its lowest gear I floored the accelerator and we shot forward with respectable if not NASCAR-like speed. The heavy truck plowed into the mob with sickening efficiency, tossing bodies to the side and crushing the ones directly in front of us. We pulled through the crowd and made our get away.
I slowed once we about a block away and stopped. John looked at me like I was crazy.
‘Are you crazy?’ he almost screamed. See I told you. I waved him off and looked out the side mirror. The group was slowly coming our way.
‘Let check something, just bear with me.’ I moved the truck down one block and turned right, and went over two blocks. I then cruised as quietly as the truck would allow and navigated the city blocks to come around ‘behind’ the mass of dead that was at CVS. We were a good 2 blocks away when I turned the engine off and stopped, having enough of a vantage point to watch.
‘What are you doing?’ John whispered to me also watching the dead heads milling around.
‘Observing. I hope I am wrong, but I think these things can smell us.’
John really thought I had lost it now. The trash on the street was blowing away from us toward them so this would be the perfect time. I looked out the door and saw no one and no ‘things’ around us, so I opened the door. I stepped out in the chilly wind and waited. The mob was slowing leaving the lot following our original path, but the closest few stopped in their tracks and started turning in small circles. After about a minute they turned in our direction and slowly trundled toward us. Damn.
I slid back behind the wheel and got us the Hell out of there.
Once back at the Depot we saw the car and mini-van we had met on the road parked outside the fences. We reported to the Major as the truck was being unloaded. He had another person there, a woman by the name of Jennifer, who recorded everything we said by hand. The disturbing thought is they can SMELL us. The Major told us to report back tomorrow to run escort for the 6X6’s as we were going to Lowes to stock up. He also told us we needed to run cover for some people who volunteered to go the equipment rental place at the edge of town and bring back a bob-cat, backhoe and a tractor. He told us to go get some rest as we leave at first light.
‘Another fine mess you have gotten me into…’ John chuckled after a moment. I could not help but laugh. There must have been close to 30 or so circling us like vultures, scratching with their nails to get in with us. My eyes widened when I thought of something a bit displeasing. I rotated the key in the ignition switch and the engine roared to life. The dead heads were confused by the sound and moved a pace back from the truck. (I have noticed since then that really loud, deep sounds cause them confusion.) I dropped the vehicle into gear and we lurched forward with bone-crunching sound. We maybe went three feet before the press of creatures slowed our advance. John’s eyes widened when we rolled to a stop.
‘There’s a lot out there, seems maybe the crowd from the hospital picked up our scent. We need to get out of here, you know the back of this thing does not have a lock on it?’ I said as I jammed the truck in reverse and floored it. We stopped when we hit the front of the building, the remaining glass and some of bricks rained down on the roof of the Humvee. The stop was gut wrenching but it did what I needed, opened a space in front of us.
Slamming the heavy truck into its lowest gear I floored the accelerator and we shot forward with respectable if not NASCAR-like speed. The heavy truck plowed into the mob with sickening efficiency, tossing bodies to the side and crushing the ones directly in front of us. We pulled through the crowd and made our get away.
I slowed once we about a block away and stopped. John looked at me like I was crazy.
‘Are you crazy?’ he almost screamed. See I told you. I waved him off and looked out the side mirror. The group was slowly coming our way.
‘Let check something, just bear with me.’ I moved the truck down one block and turned right, and went over two blocks. I then cruised as quietly as the truck would allow and navigated the city blocks to come around ‘behind’ the mass of dead that was at CVS. We were a good 2 blocks away when I turned the engine off and stopped, having enough of a vantage point to watch.
‘What are you doing?’ John whispered to me also watching the dead heads milling around.
‘Observing. I hope I am wrong, but I think these things can smell us.’
John really thought I had lost it now. The trash on the street was blowing away from us toward them so this would be the perfect time. I looked out the door and saw no one and no ‘things’ around us, so I opened the door. I stepped out in the chilly wind and waited. The mob was slowing leaving the lot following our original path, but the closest few stopped in their tracks and started turning in small circles. After about a minute they turned in our direction and slowly trundled toward us. Damn.
I slid back behind the wheel and got us the Hell out of there.
Once back at the Depot we saw the car and mini-van we had met on the road parked outside the fences. We reported to the Major as the truck was being unloaded. He had another person there, a woman by the name of Jennifer, who recorded everything we said by hand. The disturbing thought is they can SMELL us. The Major told us to report back tomorrow to run escort for the 6X6’s as we were going to Lowes to stock up. He also told us we needed to run cover for some people who volunteered to go the equipment rental place at the edge of town and bring back a bob-cat, backhoe and a tractor. He told us to go get some rest as we leave at first light.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Beginning, Part Five
The recording of past events has been going faster than I thought possible. Besides the Wife has night duty in the kitchen and I haven’t got anything else to do.
****
The trip back to the Depot was interrupted by my planned side trip to the CVS. We pulled around the building and up into the parking lot. I parked close with the front away from the store. Too many games of Grand Theft Auto I guess. The front windows were broken out and stuff swirled around us in the wind. Magazines, newspapers, small items, like someone on a movie set had put up all this for us. John actually said this as we moved toward the store, his gun in his hand. I checked the safety on my 9mm and put it into my belt holster. The interior was dark, but enough sunlight streamed in though all the broken glass we could see. Besides I heard robins in the parking lot chirping. I am beginning to theorize animals flee from these ‘zombies’, or whatever they are.
Inside we moved to the back where the pharmacy is/was. As we thought, most of all the Oxycontin, and any other heavy pain killers were gone. John got a cart and found a not to badly beaten up cardboard box and went down the aspirin isle. He was actually humming to himself as he swept entire shelves into the box. I went behind the counter, I felt weird going where I normally wouldn’t be allowed (this would wear off in the days ahead) and looked over the shelves. I grabbed the pill books laying in the pharmacists’ office, and looked around all the debris on the floor. All the metal cabinets had been pried open and the pry bar lay discarded on the floor. Damn drug addicts. Hope the zombies get high off a few of them. I laughed out loud at this and shook my head. I went through the cabinets and saw a lot of useful medicines were left behind. I had to reference the pill books (Actually one was called ‘The Pill Book’) to see what I was grabbing, then I thought, why bother? I went up front and got my own cart. We stayed maybe forty minutes gathering as much as the Humvee could carry. We only gathered medicals this time, but I told John to radio back to the Depot and see if they want us to wait they could send a 6X6 out to get what was left before it all disappeared. I went back inside with the cart and passed the magazine and paperback rack, so I stuffed the cart with a little of all. I was walking back up to the front when I thought about the Library. All those books. Hopefully no one will torch the place, but who knows. Just killed me to think of that much knowledge lost.
I was still daydreaming when John came back inside at a rush.
‘A bunch of them are coming into the lot from the far end. The Major said just to get back for now.’ I nodded and he helped me push the cart to the Humvee where we literally started throwing things into the truck. There were no birds singing anymore. Damn. I could hear footfalls in the quiet parking lot and not our own. John shut the back door as quietly as he could and went to the front to pop open his door. We both heard a weird gurgling noise from the corner of the building. My corner of course. A woman, well what was left of her, in a pretty blue dress, now blood stained came shuffling around the building. Her neck and upper torso was torn up and bloody, several large chunks of flesh missing. Her glassy eyes held me like a deer in the headlights as she turned and started for me in a straight line, the mouth cracking as it closed and opened. John was already inside yelling for me to come on. I pulled my 9mm out and aimed at her chest just to check my horror movie lore. I squeezed the trigger when she was about two arm lengths away. Nothing. Startled, I racked the slide, ejecting an unused bullet onto the ground. I hurriedly aimed and squeezed again. Nothing. Suddenly I realized the safety was on, and I looked down to fumble it off, the whole time she was getting closer. I raised the gun again, this time higher, not having time to fool around, when her left hand clamped down on my right arm and pulled. I am 6 foot 3 inches, and weigh 275 (I know, I know, I am overweight.) and she probably weighed maybe 100 pounds when she was alive. I wasn’t going anywhere but she did use the leverage to get closer. I fired the pistol, the 9mm bullet tore through her forehead and she dropped like a puppet with the strings cut. Unfortunately she was still clamped on my arm. (Death Grip, ha, ha.)
I was prying her fingers off when I noticed the parking lot was getting a bit crowded. The closest ‘person’ was almost to the Humvees’ front bumper, when I finally pried her bony fingers off and moved quickly (okay I ran) to the Humvee. I slammed the door into one of those things, a man in a dark business suit, tie and all, and slid into the seat.
‘Lock your doors’ I said, as John was looking around us. We were surrounded.
****
The trip back to the Depot was interrupted by my planned side trip to the CVS. We pulled around the building and up into the parking lot. I parked close with the front away from the store. Too many games of Grand Theft Auto I guess. The front windows were broken out and stuff swirled around us in the wind. Magazines, newspapers, small items, like someone on a movie set had put up all this for us. John actually said this as we moved toward the store, his gun in his hand. I checked the safety on my 9mm and put it into my belt holster. The interior was dark, but enough sunlight streamed in though all the broken glass we could see. Besides I heard robins in the parking lot chirping. I am beginning to theorize animals flee from these ‘zombies’, or whatever they are.
Inside we moved to the back where the pharmacy is/was. As we thought, most of all the Oxycontin, and any other heavy pain killers were gone. John got a cart and found a not to badly beaten up cardboard box and went down the aspirin isle. He was actually humming to himself as he swept entire shelves into the box. I went behind the counter, I felt weird going where I normally wouldn’t be allowed (this would wear off in the days ahead) and looked over the shelves. I grabbed the pill books laying in the pharmacists’ office, and looked around all the debris on the floor. All the metal cabinets had been pried open and the pry bar lay discarded on the floor. Damn drug addicts. Hope the zombies get high off a few of them. I laughed out loud at this and shook my head. I went through the cabinets and saw a lot of useful medicines were left behind. I had to reference the pill books (Actually one was called ‘The Pill Book’) to see what I was grabbing, then I thought, why bother? I went up front and got my own cart. We stayed maybe forty minutes gathering as much as the Humvee could carry. We only gathered medicals this time, but I told John to radio back to the Depot and see if they want us to wait they could send a 6X6 out to get what was left before it all disappeared. I went back inside with the cart and passed the magazine and paperback rack, so I stuffed the cart with a little of all. I was walking back up to the front when I thought about the Library. All those books. Hopefully no one will torch the place, but who knows. Just killed me to think of that much knowledge lost.
I was still daydreaming when John came back inside at a rush.
‘A bunch of them are coming into the lot from the far end. The Major said just to get back for now.’ I nodded and he helped me push the cart to the Humvee where we literally started throwing things into the truck. There were no birds singing anymore. Damn. I could hear footfalls in the quiet parking lot and not our own. John shut the back door as quietly as he could and went to the front to pop open his door. We both heard a weird gurgling noise from the corner of the building. My corner of course. A woman, well what was left of her, in a pretty blue dress, now blood stained came shuffling around the building. Her neck and upper torso was torn up and bloody, several large chunks of flesh missing. Her glassy eyes held me like a deer in the headlights as she turned and started for me in a straight line, the mouth cracking as it closed and opened. John was already inside yelling for me to come on. I pulled my 9mm out and aimed at her chest just to check my horror movie lore. I squeezed the trigger when she was about two arm lengths away. Nothing. Startled, I racked the slide, ejecting an unused bullet onto the ground. I hurriedly aimed and squeezed again. Nothing. Suddenly I realized the safety was on, and I looked down to fumble it off, the whole time she was getting closer. I raised the gun again, this time higher, not having time to fool around, when her left hand clamped down on my right arm and pulled. I am 6 foot 3 inches, and weigh 275 (I know, I know, I am overweight.) and she probably weighed maybe 100 pounds when she was alive. I wasn’t going anywhere but she did use the leverage to get closer. I fired the pistol, the 9mm bullet tore through her forehead and she dropped like a puppet with the strings cut. Unfortunately she was still clamped on my arm. (Death Grip, ha, ha.)
I was prying her fingers off when I noticed the parking lot was getting a bit crowded. The closest ‘person’ was almost to the Humvees’ front bumper, when I finally pried her bony fingers off and moved quickly (okay I ran) to the Humvee. I slammed the door into one of those things, a man in a dark business suit, tie and all, and slid into the seat.
‘Lock your doors’ I said, as John was looking around us. We were surrounded.
The Beginning, Part Four
I am continuing our 'back story' while I am off duty and 'resting'. Nothing of any importance is going on here, so we are taking a much needed break...for now..
****
The trip from the Depot to my brother-in-laws house was something I had yet to prepare for, even with all the TV and movies I used to watch about the undead. After speeding through the crowd at the hospital we made it through town without incident. At the edge of town we saw a minivan and a car heading towards us. I flashed my lights and stopped the Humvee blocking just enough of the road to make the others to stop. I got out and kept my hands in the air; I heard John shift behind me and got behind the wheel. I walked slowly up to the van and I could see inside it was a man and woman with a small child in a car seat. The back of the van was stuffed full of boxes and personal items. They looked fearful as I limped up to the van, I still had my hands out and away from my sides. I smiled and nodded, then pantomimed rolling the window down. The woman looked terrified as the man rolled the window down, behind them another two men got out of the car (one held a shotgun) and moved slowly up to me.
‘Why are you blocking the road? I need to get through.’ He said, his voice strained. The man with the shotgun, dressed in ‘farmer attire’ (jeans, work shirt, boots and beat up baseball hat) echoed his sentiment the other man with him spoke up and made me look at him.
‘Hope you’re not planning to rob these people. We gotta get to the hospital, my boys sick.’
I looked from one to the other. I explained what I had seen, no matter how crazy it sounded, they should not go into town unless forewarned and armed. They should not attempt the hospital at all. The sick child sat coughing loud enough for me to hear him from the car. I hoped it was not ‘turning’ everyone into these things. I really hoped for their sake it wasn’t. The man in the van was in a panic now.
‘We came from Lexington. It’s really bad in the city, we lived just on the outskirts and it is getting really scary. Where can we go?’ I asked him if he was familiar with our little town. He shook his head. I told him about our little group at the Depot and gave him some simple directions he could follow to get there. He thanked me and asked if I was going back now, I told him in a while, so he should go on and go ahead. I waved at John and he moved the Humvee out of the way and came up behind me. When the van was gone I looked at the other two. Seth and his son Jason. The little boy was Tommy. They told me he was not feeling good and running a fever. I shivered even in the cool air of the day. The story unraveled that he was sick for about two weeks now and was sent home from school. They said it was viral pneumonia. (At the time we were not sure how this sickness spread, so I was really wary of them. I know now I was acting foolishly, but we were all scared in the beginning of what we DIDN’T know.) I asked them have they been in town recently and they told us no. They were from a tiny town called Gravel Switch and didn’t come here that often. Most of the neighbors had either left or boarded themselves in their homes and would not come out to help anyone. By this time the Propaganda Machine was in full swing, the few times you got news at this point was all this CDC sponsored crap.
I asked, why the shotgun? Seth said it just didn’t feel safe, and he had heard some strange things the last few nights. After a bit of talking I knew a Viet Nam Vet when I heard one, the paranoia was there but so was the caution. He said it was just too quiet. I stood at a crossroads in my mind. They knew how to get to the Depot even though I did not specifically ‘tell’ them how to get there, they overheard me. My curiosity won over my common sense and I went to see the boy. He looked miserable. They ran out of anti-biotics about 4 days ago and the doctor never returned their calls. I think I know why now. I told them to head to the Depot and tell them I sent them. We shook hands and their faces lit up with gratitude. They hurried back to their car and drove off quickly. I walked back to the Humvee and got into the passenger side. I grabbed the radio and alerted the Depot about the people I sent and especially the little boy. The Major would have to decide what to do with them. I am glad I am not him. We have 4 people that are medical go-to people. Two paramedics that were on the same fire station crew from Harrodsburg, one of the National Guardsmen was a trained medic, and a RN from a local doctors office. Hopefully between them they can come up with something to help the child. Thinking on this, I was thinking of swinging by the new CVS to ‘collect’ some stuff. John thought it was a good idea.
I showed John how to get to our destination, and within about 5 minutes we were there. The house looked dark. Their Explorer was gone, but their van was still there. We stopped and I pulled my 9mm from the center console and racked a round into the chamber. John followed suit and checked his revolver and loaded some more bullets into it. The front door and the windows were intact which was a good sign. We walked around to the back, where I knew they kept a spare key, and was stunned by what I found. The back door was laying in the yard, the one window shattered. I walked in cautiously and as quietly as I could. John watched my back and looked around. Inside the house was trashed. Closets torn open, desks rifled, and anything of value was gone. Well anything of value and easy to carry. I walked through his office, which was the hardest hit, then his living room, then upstairs to the bedrooms, dreading every step. Clothes lay all over the upper floor, small items, and toys were strewn about. The bedrooms were ransacked. Well at least they didn’t appear to be home when this happened. I told John to go down and check the detached garage, but to watch his ass. I looked through the items and noticed no suitcases were anywhere. This gave me hope and I thought about something, snapping my fingers. Running back down the steps, well, as fast as I could, I went back to the kitchen. The power was off, and I went to the far room where the switch box was. The breakers were thrown to the off position, which gave me more hope. Switching them on, I walked back into the kitchen and noticed the red blinking light on the answering system on the phone. I punched the button and his voice told me they took the Explorer to get his wife’s parents. Mount Sterling. Not a quick trip, especially if they stayed away from Lexington, which I hope, he was smart enough to do. He was smart enough to say the date and time. Tuesday, 6PM. He had been gone five days. This is not good. I tried his phone and got a fast busy signal. Lines were up but one of the controller boxes were down or no one manning a center somewhere. I tried my cell phone. It connected but no answer to his phone. Damn. I erased the message and left one of my own. I looked in the kitchen cabinets and in the debris found a new pack of batteries and slipped them into the answering machine.
I walked out and found John sitting on the back deck in a lawn chair smoking a cigarette. He was watching the backyard where it abutted a horse field. He motioned for me to look out there. I did and saw a lone figure in the tall spring grass, moving erratically but slowly.
‘I think it’s one of them.’ He said patting his revolver on the little plastic table in front of him. The person or thing was a good 200 yards away and moving in strange little circles, never really getting any closer. I stopped and listened. It was so quiet you could hear the power lines hum. I haven’t heard that since I was a child on our farm. I tapped John on the shoulder and held up my finger. He squinted and then got the idea. He concentrated on listening.
‘No birds, no nothing.’ He said and I nodded. He spoke almost in a whisper. I smiled back at him and said, ‘I hope they cannot smell cigarette smoke.’ I nearly laughed out loud as John hurried to stamp out the cigarette and clear the air around him by waving his hands.
‘C’mon, let’s go. They’re gone. They left for Mount Sterling Tuesday night.’ I told John the rest of it when we got in the Humvee. The thing in the field looked up when I started the engine, causing John to pull his revolver and put it in his lap. I backed out of the driveway and headed back to town. The houses along his street looked to be all empty. No open doors, but I bet they had been robbed, everyone of them.
****
The trip from the Depot to my brother-in-laws house was something I had yet to prepare for, even with all the TV and movies I used to watch about the undead. After speeding through the crowd at the hospital we made it through town without incident. At the edge of town we saw a minivan and a car heading towards us. I flashed my lights and stopped the Humvee blocking just enough of the road to make the others to stop. I got out and kept my hands in the air; I heard John shift behind me and got behind the wheel. I walked slowly up to the van and I could see inside it was a man and woman with a small child in a car seat. The back of the van was stuffed full of boxes and personal items. They looked fearful as I limped up to the van, I still had my hands out and away from my sides. I smiled and nodded, then pantomimed rolling the window down. The woman looked terrified as the man rolled the window down, behind them another two men got out of the car (one held a shotgun) and moved slowly up to me.
‘Why are you blocking the road? I need to get through.’ He said, his voice strained. The man with the shotgun, dressed in ‘farmer attire’ (jeans, work shirt, boots and beat up baseball hat) echoed his sentiment the other man with him spoke up and made me look at him.
‘Hope you’re not planning to rob these people. We gotta get to the hospital, my boys sick.’
I looked from one to the other. I explained what I had seen, no matter how crazy it sounded, they should not go into town unless forewarned and armed. They should not attempt the hospital at all. The sick child sat coughing loud enough for me to hear him from the car. I hoped it was not ‘turning’ everyone into these things. I really hoped for their sake it wasn’t. The man in the van was in a panic now.
‘We came from Lexington. It’s really bad in the city, we lived just on the outskirts and it is getting really scary. Where can we go?’ I asked him if he was familiar with our little town. He shook his head. I told him about our little group at the Depot and gave him some simple directions he could follow to get there. He thanked me and asked if I was going back now, I told him in a while, so he should go on and go ahead. I waved at John and he moved the Humvee out of the way and came up behind me. When the van was gone I looked at the other two. Seth and his son Jason. The little boy was Tommy. They told me he was not feeling good and running a fever. I shivered even in the cool air of the day. The story unraveled that he was sick for about two weeks now and was sent home from school. They said it was viral pneumonia. (At the time we were not sure how this sickness spread, so I was really wary of them. I know now I was acting foolishly, but we were all scared in the beginning of what we DIDN’T know.) I asked them have they been in town recently and they told us no. They were from a tiny town called Gravel Switch and didn’t come here that often. Most of the neighbors had either left or boarded themselves in their homes and would not come out to help anyone. By this time the Propaganda Machine was in full swing, the few times you got news at this point was all this CDC sponsored crap.
I asked, why the shotgun? Seth said it just didn’t feel safe, and he had heard some strange things the last few nights. After a bit of talking I knew a Viet Nam Vet when I heard one, the paranoia was there but so was the caution. He said it was just too quiet. I stood at a crossroads in my mind. They knew how to get to the Depot even though I did not specifically ‘tell’ them how to get there, they overheard me. My curiosity won over my common sense and I went to see the boy. He looked miserable. They ran out of anti-biotics about 4 days ago and the doctor never returned their calls. I think I know why now. I told them to head to the Depot and tell them I sent them. We shook hands and their faces lit up with gratitude. They hurried back to their car and drove off quickly. I walked back to the Humvee and got into the passenger side. I grabbed the radio and alerted the Depot about the people I sent and especially the little boy. The Major would have to decide what to do with them. I am glad I am not him. We have 4 people that are medical go-to people. Two paramedics that were on the same fire station crew from Harrodsburg, one of the National Guardsmen was a trained medic, and a RN from a local doctors office. Hopefully between them they can come up with something to help the child. Thinking on this, I was thinking of swinging by the new CVS to ‘collect’ some stuff. John thought it was a good idea.
I showed John how to get to our destination, and within about 5 minutes we were there. The house looked dark. Their Explorer was gone, but their van was still there. We stopped and I pulled my 9mm from the center console and racked a round into the chamber. John followed suit and checked his revolver and loaded some more bullets into it. The front door and the windows were intact which was a good sign. We walked around to the back, where I knew they kept a spare key, and was stunned by what I found. The back door was laying in the yard, the one window shattered. I walked in cautiously and as quietly as I could. John watched my back and looked around. Inside the house was trashed. Closets torn open, desks rifled, and anything of value was gone. Well anything of value and easy to carry. I walked through his office, which was the hardest hit, then his living room, then upstairs to the bedrooms, dreading every step. Clothes lay all over the upper floor, small items, and toys were strewn about. The bedrooms were ransacked. Well at least they didn’t appear to be home when this happened. I told John to go down and check the detached garage, but to watch his ass. I looked through the items and noticed no suitcases were anywhere. This gave me hope and I thought about something, snapping my fingers. Running back down the steps, well, as fast as I could, I went back to the kitchen. The power was off, and I went to the far room where the switch box was. The breakers were thrown to the off position, which gave me more hope. Switching them on, I walked back into the kitchen and noticed the red blinking light on the answering system on the phone. I punched the button and his voice told me they took the Explorer to get his wife’s parents. Mount Sterling. Not a quick trip, especially if they stayed away from Lexington, which I hope, he was smart enough to do. He was smart enough to say the date and time. Tuesday, 6PM. He had been gone five days. This is not good. I tried his phone and got a fast busy signal. Lines were up but one of the controller boxes were down or no one manning a center somewhere. I tried my cell phone. It connected but no answer to his phone. Damn. I erased the message and left one of my own. I looked in the kitchen cabinets and in the debris found a new pack of batteries and slipped them into the answering machine.
I walked out and found John sitting on the back deck in a lawn chair smoking a cigarette. He was watching the backyard where it abutted a horse field. He motioned for me to look out there. I did and saw a lone figure in the tall spring grass, moving erratically but slowly.
‘I think it’s one of them.’ He said patting his revolver on the little plastic table in front of him. The person or thing was a good 200 yards away and moving in strange little circles, never really getting any closer. I stopped and listened. It was so quiet you could hear the power lines hum. I haven’t heard that since I was a child on our farm. I tapped John on the shoulder and held up my finger. He squinted and then got the idea. He concentrated on listening.
‘No birds, no nothing.’ He said and I nodded. He spoke almost in a whisper. I smiled back at him and said, ‘I hope they cannot smell cigarette smoke.’ I nearly laughed out loud as John hurried to stamp out the cigarette and clear the air around him by waving his hands.
‘C’mon, let’s go. They’re gone. They left for Mount Sterling Tuesday night.’ I told John the rest of it when we got in the Humvee. The thing in the field looked up when I started the engine, causing John to pull his revolver and put it in his lap. I backed out of the driveway and headed back to town. The houses along his street looked to be all empty. No open doors, but I bet they had been robbed, everyone of them.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The Beginning, Part Three
Migration
My continued info on how we got started.
....
I go home to gather what we deem necessary. You know, my wife, my Dad, armament, ammo, food, clothes, and tools. We take our two vehicles and leave for the base. Dad is confined to a wheelchair because of a stroke he had, and this is the hardest on him. Luckily his mind is still sharp, and his war experience in the coming days will be a great asset. We call the younger brother again, nothing. It’s been more than a week. Odessa is starting to worry now. The older brother is not budging, secure in his knowledge the police and society will not let him down. I say good luck to you, but Odessa is in tears as we leave. We have maybe a four dozen adults and about a dozen kids at the Depot. We start work as soon as possible. The ground just outside the chain link fence is a high school stadium. Plenty of lumber and metal materials to fortify our little base. By this time, what little people are left in the town are also fortifying their homes or just staying indoors per the government propaganda.
*Avoid large groups
*If you have fever, blurry vision, vomiting, Flu-like symptoms, contact your local CDC number (Listed at the bottom of your screen or flyer)
*Call this number if you witness suspicious activity or people with these symptoms.
*Stock up on supplies, stay indoors and wait to be contacted by the National Guard, the State Police, Local Police or Community Action Council.
It went on like this for pages, what to do, how to do it, mostly recycled stuff from the 50’s about nuclear survival. By the time we were settled in and started to add length to our fencing to ensure we had room to garden, exercise and room to just be out in the sun sometimes, the Major showed up. He was the 2nd in command at the Depot before it all went downhill. He came in all bluster and vinegar, mostly pissed about all the ones who fled the post and to the last ones here for letting us stay. We quickly pointed out he had HIS family with him. In a few minutes he quickly settled down and took in the situation. We were told in no certain terms he had not had contact with anyone higher than him for several days. Could the government have fallen so quickly? The Major (Major Kevin Garreth) advises us to check the sat transmitters. None of the men here knew how to work it, so he showed a few of us how to do it. ‘Unusual circumstances dictate unusual situations, I will deal with consequences later.’ We organized along the lines of the military. Everyone has a job and we do it. We are put where our skills are best used. Great. Since not many computers need fixing, I get to be a guard. Well we tested out on the weapons we had, and what we unlocked from the armory cabinets to see who could and could not shoot. This in the long run saves ammunition. Luckily (or unluckily) I was pretty good with the AR-15. My eyesight was not good enough to be a sniper, but I was okay with anything within 300 yards. Especially human sized at that distance. So I got to be a guard and worked my way up in the informal military hierarchy to Sergeant. I was given a 12 person team, 12 of us dumb enough to do what we were told. I had a few ideas, some were implemented, and some were not. Was I pissed? Sure at first but then I was not looking at the big picture.
Between them, Dad and the Major, we were getting the Depot very defensible. We took runs over to the Lowes store and Wal-Mart. Both had been closed ‘due to illness ‘or just no one showing up. The town itself was a ghost town, only us and maybe one other car, usually leaving. No foot traffic, a lot of abandoned vehicles, (why is that? You would think, only in the movies do people give up their car, this is America after all.) and a few houses with their front doors left open. Coyotes were EVERYWHERE. Damn vermin were bad enough before all this started sliding into Hell, but now much worse. If the Zombies want to eat them, have at ‘em, I say. We are still working at ‘collecting and securing’ (Let’s be honest here, we were armed looters. We never hurt anyone and actually helped a few people load up on stuff before we took ours and even after we invited them to come help us.)during this time, most news feeds were down, the sat-uplink at the Depot unresponsive, and the shortwave full of horror. But still, no Zombies, no mass riots, no nothing, just a lot of empty places. We met a fewer and fewer people and tried to get them to pack in with us. We either got the feigned smile (We-know-you’re-crazy, but-we-will-be-friendly-and-not-make-any-sudden-moves smile.) or the ones getting out of dodge for the hills. Harlan and places like that should be filling up with refugees by now. None decided to come with us. So we continued to pack it in and build. That was Sunday the 7th.
I told the Major I need to go talk to Odessa’s older brother and said I would use my truck to go see them. He told me to use one of the Humvees in case they would finally come back with me. The Major is strict by the book, but he knows the score on a lot of things. We were lucky, when we ‘appropriated’ the Depot, it came equipped with 9 Humvees (should have been 12, 3 were gone when we got here.) 6 large cargo trucks (6X6’s or the modern equivalent to a Deuce and half.) and 2 APV’s (Armored Personnel Vehicles. Kind of like small tanks with only one machine gun mounted on top). These would come in handy in the days ahead. We also had a Sherman Tank out at one of our parks, but we didn’t have enough parts to get it going again, and if we did we had no ammo for the main gun. So my Buddy John decides to come with me. John has his wife in the Depot and his son and daughter in law, who happens to be pregnant. He came along to get away from the constant carpentry work, since they found out how good he is at it. So off we trundle the empty streets to see if my stubborn brother-in-law wants to come with us finally.
The streets are really empty and a cold wind seems to seep into the Humvee. I mention to John, I have seen horror movies like this. We both laugh. Then a man stumbles into my path from out of nowhere. I slam on the breaks but the big truck just keeps sliding and then a sickening thud as the front bumper meets body. We both jump out of the truck as soon as it is stopped and run to the front to take a look. I can see a hand and arm sticking from under the truck. Oh God. I just hit someone, they may be dying. Think, what do I do? John looks around and says look, we are half a block from the hospital. We can see an ambulance sitting at the emergency entrance with its lights on. I ask John should I back up or what? He says wait and gets down to look at the poor guy I hit.
‘He’s still moving, I just think he rolled under the truck, he’s coming out from underneath.’
John grabs the guy’s hands and pulls. (I know, I know, not what you do in an accident, but what am I, a paramedic?) A rancid odor hits my nostrils as John, now sitting on the ground and bracing his feet on the truck, pulls the guy out. Maybe I should jog down and get the paramedics was the thought I had when John screams ‘Jesus’ and scrambles back from the truck on his butt, kicking with his feet.
This can’t be good, I should not look. The ‘person’ is wiggling out from under the Humvee, at least the top half is. The first Zombie I meet and I hit with my car. Sigh. John is now on his feet and moving back around to his door. I stand there perplexed looking at this half-man creature scrabbling across the blacktop, when the smell hits me again. It ‘sees’ me (or smells me, who knows.) and twists toward my feet. I am still staring like a rat watching a snake, looking at white glazed eyes looking up at me and a mouth snapping like a machine as it gets closer by the second, when John reappears and shoots it in the back with his pistol. The old gun’s (An old cowboy style .45 caliber) blast breaks the spell. Shit what am I doing? John pumps another round into it, but it is not stopping. I blink, it’s almost within clawing distance, and I move back, just 2 steps, but it triples my distance. Another blast hits where its heart should be.
‘John, shoot it in the head!’ I yell, nearly deaf from the shots so close to me. That’s the kind of stuff they don’t show you in the movies or on TV. Firing a gun, any gun, unless it has a suppressor is NOISY. You can lose your hearing quick. John adjusts his aim (I see it coming and start to turn, but of course am not fast enough) and ‘POW’ the head explodes. On us. All over us. Luckily in retrospect, neither one of us got any fluids in our eyes or mouths. It twitches a few seconds then stops. I look toward the hospital and see people coming this way. I tell John people are on their way here to see what happened, and we will probably have to deal with the police. I guess I was still in shock thinking that way. John grabbed my shoulder and told me to look closer. Squinting I noticed they were not running but kind of walking toward us.
‘Shit man, they are more of those things. Let’s get the Hell outta here.’ He is already around the truck and inside by the time I can register that they are a bunch of zombies shuffling towards us. I shake my head, look again and jump into the Humvee. Starting it up, I pull away and grimace as the rear of the truck goes up and over something. We have two choices at this point. Turn around in the street or drive through them. I ask John what he thinks.
‘Hell man, run over the dead sonsabitches.’
So I do. I floor the large truck and with the diesel engine whining we plow our way through the crowd. John tells me later he watched as we went by and they were pouring out of the hospital emergency doors. A lot had hospital uniforms on.
My continued info on how we got started.
....
I go home to gather what we deem necessary. You know, my wife, my Dad, armament, ammo, food, clothes, and tools. We take our two vehicles and leave for the base. Dad is confined to a wheelchair because of a stroke he had, and this is the hardest on him. Luckily his mind is still sharp, and his war experience in the coming days will be a great asset. We call the younger brother again, nothing. It’s been more than a week. Odessa is starting to worry now. The older brother is not budging, secure in his knowledge the police and society will not let him down. I say good luck to you, but Odessa is in tears as we leave. We have maybe a four dozen adults and about a dozen kids at the Depot. We start work as soon as possible. The ground just outside the chain link fence is a high school stadium. Plenty of lumber and metal materials to fortify our little base. By this time, what little people are left in the town are also fortifying their homes or just staying indoors per the government propaganda.
*Avoid large groups
*If you have fever, blurry vision, vomiting, Flu-like symptoms, contact your local CDC number (Listed at the bottom of your screen or flyer)
*Call this number if you witness suspicious activity or people with these symptoms.
*Stock up on supplies, stay indoors and wait to be contacted by the National Guard, the State Police, Local Police or Community Action Council.
It went on like this for pages, what to do, how to do it, mostly recycled stuff from the 50’s about nuclear survival. By the time we were settled in and started to add length to our fencing to ensure we had room to garden, exercise and room to just be out in the sun sometimes, the Major showed up. He was the 2nd in command at the Depot before it all went downhill. He came in all bluster and vinegar, mostly pissed about all the ones who fled the post and to the last ones here for letting us stay. We quickly pointed out he had HIS family with him. In a few minutes he quickly settled down and took in the situation. We were told in no certain terms he had not had contact with anyone higher than him for several days. Could the government have fallen so quickly? The Major (Major Kevin Garreth) advises us to check the sat transmitters. None of the men here knew how to work it, so he showed a few of us how to do it. ‘Unusual circumstances dictate unusual situations, I will deal with consequences later.’ We organized along the lines of the military. Everyone has a job and we do it. We are put where our skills are best used. Great. Since not many computers need fixing, I get to be a guard. Well we tested out on the weapons we had, and what we unlocked from the armory cabinets to see who could and could not shoot. This in the long run saves ammunition. Luckily (or unluckily) I was pretty good with the AR-15. My eyesight was not good enough to be a sniper, but I was okay with anything within 300 yards. Especially human sized at that distance. So I got to be a guard and worked my way up in the informal military hierarchy to Sergeant. I was given a 12 person team, 12 of us dumb enough to do what we were told. I had a few ideas, some were implemented, and some were not. Was I pissed? Sure at first but then I was not looking at the big picture.
Between them, Dad and the Major, we were getting the Depot very defensible. We took runs over to the Lowes store and Wal-Mart. Both had been closed ‘due to illness ‘or just no one showing up. The town itself was a ghost town, only us and maybe one other car, usually leaving. No foot traffic, a lot of abandoned vehicles, (why is that? You would think, only in the movies do people give up their car, this is America after all.) and a few houses with their front doors left open. Coyotes were EVERYWHERE. Damn vermin were bad enough before all this started sliding into Hell, but now much worse. If the Zombies want to eat them, have at ‘em, I say. We are still working at ‘collecting and securing’ (Let’s be honest here, we were armed looters. We never hurt anyone and actually helped a few people load up on stuff before we took ours and even after we invited them to come help us.)during this time, most news feeds were down, the sat-uplink at the Depot unresponsive, and the shortwave full of horror. But still, no Zombies, no mass riots, no nothing, just a lot of empty places. We met a fewer and fewer people and tried to get them to pack in with us. We either got the feigned smile (We-know-you’re-crazy, but-we-will-be-friendly-and-not-make-any-sudden-moves smile.) or the ones getting out of dodge for the hills. Harlan and places like that should be filling up with refugees by now. None decided to come with us. So we continued to pack it in and build. That was Sunday the 7th.
I told the Major I need to go talk to Odessa’s older brother and said I would use my truck to go see them. He told me to use one of the Humvees in case they would finally come back with me. The Major is strict by the book, but he knows the score on a lot of things. We were lucky, when we ‘appropriated’ the Depot, it came equipped with 9 Humvees (should have been 12, 3 were gone when we got here.) 6 large cargo trucks (6X6’s or the modern equivalent to a Deuce and half.) and 2 APV’s (Armored Personnel Vehicles. Kind of like small tanks with only one machine gun mounted on top). These would come in handy in the days ahead. We also had a Sherman Tank out at one of our parks, but we didn’t have enough parts to get it going again, and if we did we had no ammo for the main gun. So my Buddy John decides to come with me. John has his wife in the Depot and his son and daughter in law, who happens to be pregnant. He came along to get away from the constant carpentry work, since they found out how good he is at it. So off we trundle the empty streets to see if my stubborn brother-in-law wants to come with us finally.
The streets are really empty and a cold wind seems to seep into the Humvee. I mention to John, I have seen horror movies like this. We both laugh. Then a man stumbles into my path from out of nowhere. I slam on the breaks but the big truck just keeps sliding and then a sickening thud as the front bumper meets body. We both jump out of the truck as soon as it is stopped and run to the front to take a look. I can see a hand and arm sticking from under the truck. Oh God. I just hit someone, they may be dying. Think, what do I do? John looks around and says look, we are half a block from the hospital. We can see an ambulance sitting at the emergency entrance with its lights on. I ask John should I back up or what? He says wait and gets down to look at the poor guy I hit.
‘He’s still moving, I just think he rolled under the truck, he’s coming out from underneath.’
John grabs the guy’s hands and pulls. (I know, I know, not what you do in an accident, but what am I, a paramedic?) A rancid odor hits my nostrils as John, now sitting on the ground and bracing his feet on the truck, pulls the guy out. Maybe I should jog down and get the paramedics was the thought I had when John screams ‘Jesus’ and scrambles back from the truck on his butt, kicking with his feet.
This can’t be good, I should not look. The ‘person’ is wiggling out from under the Humvee, at least the top half is. The first Zombie I meet and I hit with my car. Sigh. John is now on his feet and moving back around to his door. I stand there perplexed looking at this half-man creature scrabbling across the blacktop, when the smell hits me again. It ‘sees’ me (or smells me, who knows.) and twists toward my feet. I am still staring like a rat watching a snake, looking at white glazed eyes looking up at me and a mouth snapping like a machine as it gets closer by the second, when John reappears and shoots it in the back with his pistol. The old gun’s (An old cowboy style .45 caliber) blast breaks the spell. Shit what am I doing? John pumps another round into it, but it is not stopping. I blink, it’s almost within clawing distance, and I move back, just 2 steps, but it triples my distance. Another blast hits where its heart should be.
‘John, shoot it in the head!’ I yell, nearly deaf from the shots so close to me. That’s the kind of stuff they don’t show you in the movies or on TV. Firing a gun, any gun, unless it has a suppressor is NOISY. You can lose your hearing quick. John adjusts his aim (I see it coming and start to turn, but of course am not fast enough) and ‘POW’ the head explodes. On us. All over us. Luckily in retrospect, neither one of us got any fluids in our eyes or mouths. It twitches a few seconds then stops. I look toward the hospital and see people coming this way. I tell John people are on their way here to see what happened, and we will probably have to deal with the police. I guess I was still in shock thinking that way. John grabbed my shoulder and told me to look closer. Squinting I noticed they were not running but kind of walking toward us.
‘Shit man, they are more of those things. Let’s get the Hell outta here.’ He is already around the truck and inside by the time I can register that they are a bunch of zombies shuffling towards us. I shake my head, look again and jump into the Humvee. Starting it up, I pull away and grimace as the rear of the truck goes up and over something. We have two choices at this point. Turn around in the street or drive through them. I ask John what he thinks.
‘Hell man, run over the dead sonsabitches.’
So I do. I floor the large truck and with the diesel engine whining we plow our way through the crowd. John tells me later he watched as we went by and they were pouring out of the hospital emergency doors. A lot had hospital uniforms on.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Beginning, Part Two
My continuing series of what has happened in my away up to this point. I will load all this into my NetBook and upload them when the up-links are clear.
.....
Fourth Morning
I get up early and take another look around town. It’s really quiet. Albeit the town is normally quiet but this is Christmas-Day-and all-the-Stores-are-closed, kind of quiet. I take a back street and go down by the National Guard Depot and have a look around. I have my AR-15 with me and some extra mags. Odessa does NOT know I am doing this. As I drive by I see there are soldiers there, but not really agitated or anything. So I decide to stop and have a chat. I am not really noticed until I walk up to the guy and say hello. He stares at me because of my non-accent (or Northern Accent as it were) I ask him how it’s going. He just kind of nods and looks around. He tells me that a lot of the brass are on the move but the National Guard in Kentucky is only activated around Louisville so far. He says a lot of people are leaving the cities. Official word is it is a terroristic act, just like on the news. He says he doesn’t believe it and he is getting his family and going East into the mountains until all this is cleared up. I ask about if he is afraid to be a deserter and he says better a live a deserter than a dead hero. His partner on duty just snorts and shakes his head. Thinks we are crazy and this will all be over in a few days. The guy I am talking to rolls his eyes and smiles. I bid a good day and leave.
That night we try the phones again with no luck. The power is getting spotty too. Odessa’s older brother the judge says the state police are treating it as a riot or civil disobedience. They were trying to blame all this on Tea Party’s getting out of hand. We had our first news about a small unrest (let’s call it what it was, an outbreak) in Lexington. I lay my plan on the table. Mr. Law and Order doesn’t think it will get that bad down here so he doesn’t think I should do what I am thinking. I talk to a friend of mine who works not far from me and he thinks’ it’s a great plan. His son is home from the Marines and they are coming with me on Friday morning.
Friday morning I met with my friends and we take our truck back to the National Guard Depot. We get there just after day break and discover it must be a good idea as other people have thought of it. Several pick up and a mini-van are sitting just outside the now unguarded gate. The gate itself has one side of the chain link off of the hinges and laying to the side. We cautiously get out with our weapons and even more cautiously creep up to the building. We can here several men talking, some yelling and even some crying (?). We come in the building at arms and notice no one is paying attention to us at all. There are a group of men standing around a table with a map on it and a woman with a crying child in one corner. The men are still arguing and pointing to the map. I clear my throat and suddenly everyone notices us. My friend John just looks at me with a ‘way to go’ smirk. They notice our weapons and scrabble to get theirs in line. I call out to whoa, whoa, take it easy and rest mine in a cradle in my arms. I tell them we are not here to fight and thought this place would be defensible against whatever is coming. An older, grizzled man with a beard (Whom I know I have seen in town. It IS a small town after all.) Claps his hands and makes a crazy sounding laugh. He says, ‘Son, we could use all the help we can get.’ John’s son the Marine is still a bit wary but was caught off guard by this reaction. Admittedly I thought people would fight over this place to keep it for themselves. I guess I was up North too long, sigh. We soon discover other like minded nuts, like us, came here and found the place empty. No guards, a few Humvees missing, some of the weapons lockers broke open that kind of thing. Only 3 men here are from the National Guard, they came back with the same idea. The woman and crying child is one of theirs. Since no fight is evident amongst us, we make plans.
.....
Fourth Morning
I get up early and take another look around town. It’s really quiet. Albeit the town is normally quiet but this is Christmas-Day-and all-the-Stores-are-closed, kind of quiet. I take a back street and go down by the National Guard Depot and have a look around. I have my AR-15 with me and some extra mags. Odessa does NOT know I am doing this. As I drive by I see there are soldiers there, but not really agitated or anything. So I decide to stop and have a chat. I am not really noticed until I walk up to the guy and say hello. He stares at me because of my non-accent (or Northern Accent as it were) I ask him how it’s going. He just kind of nods and looks around. He tells me that a lot of the brass are on the move but the National Guard in Kentucky is only activated around Louisville so far. He says a lot of people are leaving the cities. Official word is it is a terroristic act, just like on the news. He says he doesn’t believe it and he is getting his family and going East into the mountains until all this is cleared up. I ask about if he is afraid to be a deserter and he says better a live a deserter than a dead hero. His partner on duty just snorts and shakes his head. Thinks we are crazy and this will all be over in a few days. The guy I am talking to rolls his eyes and smiles. I bid a good day and leave.
That night we try the phones again with no luck. The power is getting spotty too. Odessa’s older brother the judge says the state police are treating it as a riot or civil disobedience. They were trying to blame all this on Tea Party’s getting out of hand. We had our first news about a small unrest (let’s call it what it was, an outbreak) in Lexington. I lay my plan on the table. Mr. Law and Order doesn’t think it will get that bad down here so he doesn’t think I should do what I am thinking. I talk to a friend of mine who works not far from me and he thinks’ it’s a great plan. His son is home from the Marines and they are coming with me on Friday morning.
Friday morning I met with my friends and we take our truck back to the National Guard Depot. We get there just after day break and discover it must be a good idea as other people have thought of it. Several pick up and a mini-van are sitting just outside the now unguarded gate. The gate itself has one side of the chain link off of the hinges and laying to the side. We cautiously get out with our weapons and even more cautiously creep up to the building. We can here several men talking, some yelling and even some crying (?). We come in the building at arms and notice no one is paying attention to us at all. There are a group of men standing around a table with a map on it and a woman with a crying child in one corner. The men are still arguing and pointing to the map. I clear my throat and suddenly everyone notices us. My friend John just looks at me with a ‘way to go’ smirk. They notice our weapons and scrabble to get theirs in line. I call out to whoa, whoa, take it easy and rest mine in a cradle in my arms. I tell them we are not here to fight and thought this place would be defensible against whatever is coming. An older, grizzled man with a beard (Whom I know I have seen in town. It IS a small town after all.) Claps his hands and makes a crazy sounding laugh. He says, ‘Son, we could use all the help we can get.’ John’s son the Marine is still a bit wary but was caught off guard by this reaction. Admittedly I thought people would fight over this place to keep it for themselves. I guess I was up North too long, sigh. We soon discover other like minded nuts, like us, came here and found the place empty. No guards, a few Humvees missing, some of the weapons lockers broke open that kind of thing. Only 3 men here are from the National Guard, they came back with the same idea. The woman and crying child is one of theirs. Since no fight is evident amongst us, we make plans.
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