Cassie (Adrian's Undead Diary Book 8)

by Chris Philbrook

  We didn’t head directly into the city airport. It isn’t a huge one, but neither is it a small one. We stuck to the perimeter road, and headed directly into the business park. The park itself was only about fifteen structures, arranged along the circular perimeter road. None of the businesses were worth raiding immediately yesterday, but we took note of what was there. It was a fluke that one of us remembered seeing the name of the business in the first place, giving us a reason to make the trip.

  We saw the sign for the medical supplies business (ANJ Medical Supply Wholesalers, if you’re curious Mr. Journal) and we pulled in. We were ecstatic to see that we had tremendous visibility in all directions, and that there were so few undead in the industrial park. Before we got five feet from our vehicles, we engaged the foot mobile visible undead and secured a perimeter around the vehicles and the building. Because we brought so many people on this run, we had extra bodies.

  Twelve made the trip. It left us a little short on home security, but we felt the risk was necessary. By vehicle we had; Caleb, Abby, Hector and myself in the HRT. In the second humvee we had Kevin, Amanda, Quan and Ethan. In the third humvee we had Martin, Fitz, Angela and Hal.

  All in all, a great team.

  We posted four outside on foot strictly for security, three at the vehicles as drivers in the event we had to leave in a serious hurry, and we took the remaining five into the building for the clear. A good sized stack. Visibility into the building was limited. The only windows were in the front, and they were intact (a good sign), and they looked into a set of offices. The warehouse where our prize awaited was obscured by a series of mundane offices.

  The main door of the building was unlocked, and after pulling it open as if it were still open for business, we went in and made the building safe. A central hallway ran straight for twenty feet or so, then turned left for ten, then straight for twenty more, terminating in the double fire doors that opened into the reasonably small warehouse. I could easily throw a rock from one side of the warehouse to the other and hit the wall on the fly. The offices were entirely abandoned and devoid of anything dangerous. Heading into the warehouse though, was a little more frightening. With no way to get natural light into the space, Kevin and I decided to clear the entire warehouse using NVGs instead of with flashlights. A little untraditional yes, but we were reasonably sure the warehouse would be empty. After going up and down the warehouse rack aisles for nearly twenty minutes in the dark, we had the place made safe, and we got the light into the building. After opening the rear dock and getting a couple of our large lamps turned on deeper inside the giant space, we were in business.

  I am happy to report that we found a LOT of usable bulk medical supplies. Syringes, bandages, first aid supplies literally out the fucking asshole, casting equipment, saline solutions of various concoctions, and all manner of things I can’t even remember today. We filled the HRT floor to ceiling, front to back with supplies, and we left a LOT behind. We took the most essential supplies only, and after securing the warehouse we moved on. While we were inside (I think about two or three hours) the team outside had to put down about seventy to a hundred more undead closing in from the airport area. They seemed to be heading from the airport itself towards the sound of the music.

  Our perimeter team was equipped with suppressed weapons though, and they attracted no undue attention to the building we were in. Wrap your head around those past few statements. Our security people put down a HUNDRED undead, and I'm saying that wasn't an unduly large issue. Hilarious.

  A relatively quick swing around the park and down another exit off the perimeter road, and we were on the street where the pharmacy was. I could see the front doors were smashed out, so we didn’t expect much on the inside. The parking lot and immediate street were peppered with undead heading our way. The density of them was bad, but not so bad that we needed to bring out the heavy guns yet. All of us with suppressed weapons firing in a coordinated fashion was enough to keep us safe.

  We were pretty far and out of Lady Gaga hearing range, so we had no distraction to pull undead away from our position as we worked. The sound of our vehicles running was also a big draw so this was a much more hairy operation. The firing outside during the breach was constant, and we had to pull our vehicle people to bolster exterior security. The breaching team of five was all action the entire way through. The pharmacy was a large one with about ten aisles, and we had undead in almost every aisle. I was firing on lead or Kevin was. Our guns never stopped snapping off suppressed rounds for a solid ten minutes as we crossed the tops of the aisles, firing down the length at the undead shambling towards the registers at the front where we were. By the time we got to about the eighth aisle the undead were coming out the end of the ninth and tenth aisle, and the rest of our team had to open up to keep them off of us.

  Sadly, the remainder of our team did not have suppressed weapons, and the sudden roar of their normal weapons firing was deafening in the store. Previously the loudest noise was the sound of a zombie dropping dead and knocking some shit off the shelves on the way down. The noise hurting our ears was the least of our problems though. From outside our team informed us the gunshots were just as loud, and very likely to draw in more trouble.

  The pharmacy in the back mercifully was still sealed. The steel shutter had been dropped exactly like the pharmacy in town, and after repositioning the HRT in the store opening and attaching the winch to the shutters, it came down with little effort. We also were able to grab multiple plastic bins from the shelves (pretty much the only things left in the store), and we headed into the pharmacy.

  Ethan had a boner a foot long. The shelves were obviously raided already (he guessed by an employee, which made sense because the gate had been shut after the theft), but at least half the medications were still present in some usable quantity. When we were half way through emptying the remnants of the pharmacy, a call for assistance came from outside. Abby and I responded.

  Our gunfire had drawn in well over a hundred undead. When Abby and I stepped outside and took stock of it, she went left, and I went right. I had my gun up and firing almost immediately, putting the walking dead down that were closing in on us like a vice. It was practically a wall of zombies in a circle around us. The visual of so many zombies was nearly paralyzing. It squeezed the hope right out of you. After maybe two magazines of my own fire I hit my comms button and asked Hal and Hector to open up with the SAWs on the humvees. Noise wasn’t an issue anymore, and we needed some fucking help to catch up.

  The ripping fire from the light machine guns sounded like the earth and sky being torn in half. We’d been firing the nearly silent suppressed weapons the entire time and when those loud ass fully auto guns started barking… Mr. Journal I tell you it sounded like God himself had started tearing the storm clouds from the sky and throwing them down on us from on high. The effect on the encroaching plague of undead was immediate and devastating. The bodies started crumbling to the ground with exploded skulls like a violent tidal wave. Just ten seconds of accurate, intense fire from the two men with the turret mounted support weapons annihilated the danger. I felt so powerful as they let up on the triggers, leaving a few mangled, twitching bodies in their wake. The exterior security people were then able to move into the crowd, and finish the wounded undead off with halligans.

  We returned the interior to help emptying the pharmacy.

  About fifty more undead visited our location while we continued to fill and remove containers of pills, fluids, and medical supplies. Everything was handled. We are very much set for basic medications for some time. Shit, we could start a meth lab with all the shit we got there.

  After packing everything into the back of the humvees, we rolled out fast, and went back for our radio, still suspended from the traffic light in the middle of the intersection near the radio. A light rain had started, and when we arrived at intersection, the visibility was getting bad. It also didn’t help that it was late afternoon, and the sun was setting o
n us.

  The intersection was entirely filled with a tightly packed HORDE of undead. There were no less than four hundred undead there. I guarantee you Mr. Journal there were at least four or five hundred. It was horrifying in the worst way. I haven’t seen that many undead mobbed in one place in a damn long time. Not since Bastion was laid siege to back in March of last year. We rolled up on them and came to a halt about a hundred yards away.

  I hit my throat mic and said one word quietly, “SAWs.” It took maybe five seconds for Hal and Hector to get their guns up and firing. The mob of undead had turned in our direction by then and were starting to shamble our way. Sadly for them, they were no match for 800+ rounds per minute out of two barrels. Hal and Hector were accurate enough that they were hitting at head level consistently, and the bodies hit the freshly packed flat snow like tipped over grave stones. Both men had to load fresh belts of ammo, which tells you they were firing for quite some time. I’m sure a lot of those were misses, but with that overwhelming amount of 5.56mm flying out into a crowd that packed in, you KNOW they were mostly hits. You can't miss in those conditions. You might not kill, but you can't miss.

  It took all day for that crowd of undead to form, and it took us three minutes to put every fucking body in that crowd face down in the fresh red and gray snow. It gave me some hope that one day we might be able to actually clear the fucking city once and for all. We just need about… 125,000 rounds of ammunition and some armor plated vehicles.

  No problem.

  We drove over the dead bodies, retrieved our radio from the traffic light, and took a wide route home through empty neighborhoods and areas that have long since been abandoned. We didn’t want to be followed home by someone with ill intentions, especially while so many of us are still sick.

  We were greeted like epic heroes of old. Then we got down to work emptying the vehicles, getting the medicine stored away properly, and getting the fresh IV bags double checked, and into the still sick. Things are bad with them, but like wilting plants, they spruced up within an hour or two of having the fresh fluids inside them. Crazy how that works.

  I’m wiped. I can't hear shit. Just this WEEEE noise. I’ll say things are still shitty here, despite our good fortunes in the city’s edge. People are still depressed, withdrawn, scared, and disturbed by the deaths the other night, and it’s only by the virtue of Michelle, Melissa, and Kim, and our terrific haul downtown that folks are keeping it together.

  I’m hoping our supplies last us for a bit so we can focus on getting somewhat back to normal.

  Normal.

  Ha.

  -Adrian

  February 7th

  I’ve been very overwhelmed by life of late. It’s almost as if the little things have started to pileup so high they’re finally surrounding me. I feel…

  Trapped.

  I think my priorities are fucked. The things that should matter most today as I write this are the things that are not on my mind. I am bothered substantially by some shit Michelle said last night, and not by the strife and turmoil that has enveloped my people here. I think I’m being selfish again. I don’t know quite what to do, or where to start. It sucks being a drama queen.

  Our trip into the very edge of the city was a phenomenal success. No one was hurt, we got the supplies we so desperately needed, and we put down hundreds and hundreds of undead in the process. It could not be a more impressive victory on our part.

  Our sick have stabilized and are now getting better. The IV fluids and medicine Ethan and Joel are pumping into them have returned them to life. They’re still in the clinic, under armed guard and constant medical care, but all signs as of today point that they are going to survive. Another clear victory on our part.

  We’ve posted as heavy a guard as we could since we returned, and our long circuit home that led past the Factory hasn’t brought anyone back to our location. The security cameras there as well as the people there haven’t seen anyone following our tracks. We also ran back past MGR, so we had multiple places watching our trail. No one followed us, no undead seemed to have followed us, so once more it appears that we scored a victory.

  We have held our ground on the morale issues. Alex is still very withdrawn and sad over the death of George. Poor guy must’ve been so in love, and seeing him mope around, lonely and alone is murderous. The same can be said for Martin. Martin’s sadness and his dedication to being a father to little Chester right now is heart breaking. The kid is torn up over his mom dying, and Martin is torn up over watching his son. On a selfish note, without Martin’s labor and how-to knowledge, there is a lot of shit that’s not being done right now. However, I just can’t get myself to the point where I ask him to get back to work. I just can’t ask him to put everyone else before his grief, and before his son. I know I should be pushing him, but I can't.

  Jeanette is struggling with the loss of her baby boy. There’s nothing I can say that’s more impactful than that.

  I don’t even want to go into the other people right now. It’s just total crap.

  Having said all that, after our return a few days ago we decided to have an event to celebrate our achievement, and mourn the loss of the dead. Basically we wanted a large gathering to give us a reason to eat, drink, and attempt to be merry.

  It didn’t make much sense in a logistical way though. Food has been tight, and even with all my jokes that our food consumption “got better” from all our bad luck of late, we are still stretched a little thin. Having a party where we indulge and overeat and drink is stupid. However, trying to bring us all back together and a little happier is a bigger deal. We are running the risk of dying of emotional starvation long before we physically starve.

  Michelle led the charge on this, and she did a great job. She decorated the cafeteria, organized everyone (even the sad and distraught), got the food and drink ready, and made sure everyone showed up on time and was as ready as they could be to have a good time. Michelle even somehow found the time to light a large candle for each of the dead. I don’t know where she found all those thick white pillar candles, but there was one for every person who died the other day. They were lined up on a table, off to the side, silently flickering, reminding everyone of why we were there last night, and why it was important to celebrate their lives, instead of just being sad, and hurt. Less mourning, more celebration.

  The shindig was awkward. It felt forced, and a little contrived to me, but with so many ex military guys, it all starts to come together when the booze, beer and wine sets in. Old Army stories come out, brothers in arms share tales of their boot camp woes, and then we get to this point where we all sit around quietly near each other, heads hung low, and start to really remember someone. You talk about how they laughed, how they cried, moments when they stood by you, no matter the danger or the stupidity, and you remember just how fucking much someone really means to you. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean they don’t still mean something to you. It makes me realize how much I love my friend Kevin. Being with him at the party last night and reminiscing about old times, and listening to him talk with his crew about the death of Jaden and Roger and Kyle made me realize how much I enjoyed our times in the Army together.

  That’s neither here nor there. I’m still hung up on the real issue that’s bothering me.

  A handful of us got completely plastered. You’ve probably gotten that much out of my disorganized ramblings.

  I was just about three sheets to the wind when I caught Michelle’s eye from across the room. She was watching me talk to Kevin I think, and I raised a can of beer to her and nodded. Sort of a “tip my cap” to her moment. She’d done a decent job at getting this going. Immediately she got up and started over towards us, and despite being pretty fucking drunk, I remember her being really tipsy as she crossed the floor with the music playing out of some kid's shit stereo a little too loud. Kevin managed to stray away just as she showed up, and that left Michelle and I standing there, more than a little awkwardly.

&
nbsp; She and I talked for a few drunken minutes about the party, and how bad things were, and how she hoped that this would bond everyone, and give us a collective “chance to mourn.” Which I should say she said in a very drunken, yet professional manner. Long pauses to say very calculated things. I'm sure you've been there.

  Somewhere after that, not too long after, but also not exactly the next thing, we managed to walk over to a side cafeteria table and sit down. Then she starts asking me, “What my plan for myself,” was. I can’t exactly… you know... remember what I answered her, having a head swimming with booze at the time, but I remember going on and on about how I was worried about doing the wrong thing, and how I felt like I had to “make things right” for all my mistakes and shit, and she sat there, staring at me intently. Then out of the blue she reaches up, gives me this… sweet and awkward caress on the cheek, leans in and gives me a kiss. It wasn’t quite on the cheek, nor was it on the mouth. It was… I don’t know. Affectionate and also innocent at the same time. I remember being totally shocked as she pulled away slowly, looking at me.

  I can’t tell you a damn thing in detail about the shit us guys talked about last night, but I will remember the words she said to me next until the day I am old and grey. Michelle sat there, hands in her lap, looking me dead in the eye, and she starts talking without taking a pause.

  “Adrian I was told by many that you and I would fall in love. They said we’d be together, and when we first met I thought about how wrong they were. You are rough, raw, vulgar. Your actions can be rash, and your heart sometimes makes you do the wrong thing. But now that I know you, I see you for who you are. I see the sweet man who wants to be there for those he cares for, and to protect anyone he can, despite how dangerous it might be to him. I have watched that man struggle with the weight of leading, and the crushing weight of his own guilt. Adrian I’ve talked to people about you and your story. I’ve heard how you hate yourself over what you did. How you hate yourself over leaving your girlfriend behind.”