The Dead Lands Diary (Book 1)

by Staggs, S. David

  KELLY: Now I'm thinking about our house. I liked that little house. I liked the area...except Stan.

  ME: No one cared for Stan.

  KELLY: Still, can't help but feel kinda bad for him.

  ME: You're better than I.

  TIM: All I know is what you've told me. Sounded like a real son of a bitch to me.

  ME: He was. Only thing useful to me personally from him, is that crowbar on the table.

  REGGIE: Cold shit, man. True shit. But cold as fuck.

  ***

  Christmas arrived soon. Ben was totally taken off guard and stunned to see newspaper wrapped gifts under our sad lightless tree.

  The boy never smiled that much. That day he did. At least for a little bit. He laughed at the deodorant and was happy with the CD player. But after some time I watched him sitting over by the window. He was watching the snow fall. Partially watching, anyway. He wiped a tear and just kept staring out. It was Christmas and his family was dead. I knew that's where his thoughts would remain the rest of the day. But at least for awhile, in the morning, he had been happy. He smiled.

  ***

  JANUARY

  The first couple weeks of 2017 we just tried to lay low and have some R&R.

  After that. Well, after that it was back to routine. We found ourselves, Ben, Tim and myself, driving into a new area. We'd decided to check out Mantua Corners. It was a few miles outside of the main town, past the Mantua Station Drug Co. It was in the direction the red truck had come from. We decided to take a chance and see what was up ahead. We didn't tell Kelly. Especially having Ben with us.

  Ben was nearing 14 now. March, he said. He learned to handle himself well and it was important to get out and go with us more often.

  We were a little nervous as we passed the drug store. Brand new territory. Post-plague, anyway. We saw empty homes with over grown lawns with thin layers of snow. The grounds and road were only dusted. The temps were frigid.

  We passed a two story home on our right. Spray painted on the wall in large black letters of the white house were the words:

  KEVIN

  GO TO MIDDLE SCHOOL

  SAFE

  We surmised that perhaps that's where the red truck came from. Maybe it was safe there. Maybe there were decent people holed up. We promised Kelly to wait till spring to take a look for others, but it seemed silly not to at least take a glance. We decided on our way back we would. Tim really pushed the issue and I didn't need much convincing. Ben was indifferent about it.

  When we reached the corners intersection we stopped and looked around. All was silent. A Dollar Store stood quiet. A large sign on the window read:

  Take everything you need. Good Luck!

  Most of the front windows were broken and stuff was scattered around the parking lot. It'd be something to check later on to see what was left. Today we were simply scouting. There was nothing here. Nothing set up. Just a little Ghost Town.

  We turned around and made our way back. Crossing back over the village limits we turned right onto the road leading to Crestwood High. Once at the top of the hill we received a clear view of the disarray the school was in. The glass doors to the cafeteria were broke. Quite a few windows were except for the high ones.

  We continued slowly past and back toward the football stadium and bus garage. A red arrow was painted on the pavement pointing ahead with the word SAFE. Ahead took us to a slight winding of the road into some woods.

  We creeped along over some speed bumps until the Middle School came into view. A small section of the side was burnt. Some bodies were crumpled on the ground nearby. One of them completely charred.

  We pulled up to the front. More broken glass. Looking through into the dim light I could make out a Shambler wandering its way down the hallway and out of sight into the darkness.

  A large white sheet was drapping down from the roof. It big red letter it read: WELCOME!

  What happened there? What went wrong? Obviously a decent amount of people had been here and were taking people in. Maybe a pack of Bolters attacked. One pack could kill a lot of people, turning those killed into more Bolters. I guess that was the most likely scenario. Either way...this place was lost.

  Further down a sign was posted...similar to an old "yard sale" style sign, stuck in the ground. It looked relatively new compared to everything behind us. All it said was:

  FIND THE HAVEN.

  ***

  KELLY: You what?!

  TIM: We thought it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look, alright.

  KELLY: No, it's not alright! We agreed not to look or take that risk until after winter! And just the three of you?! With Ben with you?? What if something had happened...we'd never have known where to look!

  ME: Okay, that's a fair point. I won't argue that one...but we're here now, we're fine, Ben's fine.

  BEN: I can handle myself.

  TIM: Yes, you can. You do.

  KELLY: Was it worth the risk? Did you see anyone? Did they see you??

  ME: Was it worth it? Well, that depends I guess.

  KELLY: On what? Who was there?

  REGGIE: And to reiterate what she said...did they see you??

  ME: Okay, slow down! The place is gone. At one time, it looked like it was a legit safe place. Big welcome sign, arrows to point people toward the school. Whole nine yards. But it was...it's gone. Whatever happened, no one survived. Bodies and infected. That's it.

  REGGIE: So how the fuck does it "depend" if it was worth the look?

  TIM: There was a sign posted nearby. Looked placed in the not so distant past. Said "Find Haven."

  KELLY: Find Haven?

  REGGIE: So? Maybe a survivor put it there telling people to find better and safer places.

  BEN: Maybe...

  ME: Or, Haven is a place. A new place survivors who fled from there built...or maybe someone else built and they found it...came back and posted for anyone that tried for the Crestwood Safe Zone. People like us, for instance.

  BEN: Why didn't they post where?

  JIM: Maybe they didn't want to advertise. Not too far out anyway.

  KELLY: Maybe, yeah. Or maybe they didn't have time to post more. Who knows. But...after winter, dammit!

  ME: We're still going to scout around though. Play it safe but scout around. Might be signs posted somewhere else.

  KELLY: I wanna go out next time. I'm getting stir crazy again. Tired of sitting here.

  JIM: Then I'm going, too.

  ME: Next round will be me and you two, then.

  REGGIE: I'll go.

  ME: Volunteering this time?

  REGGIE: Yeah. Why the fuck not?

  TIM: Ben and me will hold the fort then.

  KELLY: Did you happen to see that truck again?

  BEN: Nope. Thought maybe it was at the school but it wasn't.

  ME: Let's pull a map out tonight. Should have a long ass time ago. Mark places we've been, places we've cleared and see where we go from here...

  ***

  FEBRUARY

  The month was bitter cold. Negative temps and blistering winds more nights than not. The dead were stiff and unmoving; with the exception of the Bolters.

  We'd find some Roamers and Shamblers in houses. They were the only ones that moved. Much slower of course. We had to start moving further out after we took all the canned food and water and other things from everywhere nearby. Mid month we ventured into West Branch State Park. It was a great place to swim in the summer or rent a lot and camp out. Similar to Woodside Lake except much larger in scale. Dense woods and a huge lake. Walking trails everywhere and fishing locations.

  We ended up making it a safe house. We used the visitor center. Small building and would suffice our needs. It was the closest safe house to have near Ravenna. We had decided to only use this one for extreme emergencies if we had no other choice.

  Although it was secluded and a small distance from town, we didn't want to take the risk that those people with the piked heads might also search around her
e.

  From the look of it, however, it appeared no one had been here. Not for awhile, anyway. We gathered what we could find quickly and then secured the place. Being there was eerie. Standing outside of the building looking around...dead trees and dead silence. Although it was wooded you could see a ways through the dead trees now. Anything moving close and we'd spot it immediately. We'd hear it first. A Bolter pack running through there across dead twigs and ice...we'd have plenty of time to make it to the vehicle.

  Carefully we drove through the park to check all the lots. A few camp sights remained. Some abandoned campers and tents. They were all empty with the exception of a gallon of water left behind in one and another with powered eggs.

  The following days breakfast.

  ***

  It happened at the end of February. Temps were in the teens. Looking back...there's no clear sign of how it happened. Of what sparked their attention. A flicker of candle light through a crack in the boarded windows? Maybe someone had spoken too loudly. Doesn't matter. All that mattered was Reggie and I were on watch. We sat at the windows upstairs; too cold to sit outside. The others were down stairs. I remember hearing Ben and Tim talking and laughing...maybe it was the laughter. Jim and Kelly were asleep. I think it had been around midnight...give or take.

  Reggie had stopped in mid sentence...couldn't even tell you now what we were speaking about. I turned my attention outside to where he was pointing.

  Against the backdrop of lightly snow covered fields were Bolters. They had emerged from the woods across the road and were headed our way. One gave out a resounding Dead Call...followed by others. Bolters rarely did so, but maybe they were starving and felt the need to use calls. Who knows. Who cares.

  At first we just saw what appeared to be a larger pack. Eight or nine. But they just kept emerging from the treeline. After the Dead Calls we realized they were directing their attention our way. They started to jog along in our direction. More emerged. This wasn't a pack of Bolters. It was a swarm of them. At first we counted ten. Then eighteen. Twenty-nine. Over thirty. I stopped counting...they were picking up speed and I snapped out of my shock and grabbed Reggie; pulling him away from the window.

  We ran downstairs. Ben and Tim were already standing and alert. They heard the Dead Calls...but that had become common place to hear. It was fleeing from the top floor that caused their alarm.

  ME: Wake Jim and Kelly! We have to move!

  TIM: The fuck is happening??

  REGGIE: Bolters, man!

  BEN: How many?!

  ME: Over thirty!

  TIM: What?!

  [doors opening]

  JIM: What is it? What's happening?

  KELLY: Did I hear you say Bolters?

  TIM: yeah, a fuckin' shit ton, too. Grab the lanterns and blow the candles out. Let's get in the basement!

  KELLY: The windows are boarded...double boarded...

  ME: This isn't a pack, Kelly. Before we ran down I counted over thirty and there's probably more. It's an entire horde of the things and they know we're in here! Those boards are not gonna hold up against that many!

  [Dead Calls]

  REGGIE: Grab whatever guns are up here and move!

  [bashing against doors. Dead Calls]

  KELLY: It sounds like a hundred out there.

  ME: Very well may be, let's go.

  [Cracking. Breaking]

  Ben: The door..it's-

  JIM: Doors breaking! Window over there is coming in!

  REGGIE: Fuckin' go go go!!! Fuck!

  [Kelly screams]

  JIM: Down the stairs.

  The door splintered open at the henges. A Bolter was halfway inside. Tim aimed the pistol gripped shotgun he held and splattered the upper portion of the creature. In response it sounded as if a thousand Dead Calls went off. It was deafening. Now they clawed and bashed against the house even more violently.

  I yelled for Tim to hurry up and move. He exclaimed the need to keep the door clear...so they didn't see what direction we were headed in...it seemed logical at the time...in the chaos of it all. Of course it made no difference. They were going to ransack everything and sniff their way through the house foot by foot. They weren't looking for "what direction" we headed...as if they would assume we went elsewhere and bash their way through the back door. They were....animals. They thought like animals. They wouldn't check to make sure we didn't go out another way. They just...hunted. We were still hung up on what they once were...what they still resembled. As if they still thought on some human wavelength.

  Tim ran to the front door, firing out into the cold hoping to drive the majority from the door...to scare some off for a moment or two. Failing to remember and realize in his panic...they had no sense of self preservation. They weren't afraid. They never would be. And then one of them, trampling over one of its fallen, grabbed Tim's arm as it pulled itself in toward him. It sank its decaying teeth into his upper forearm. I'll never forget that scream.

  It tore a chunk clean off...then he shot it in the face and sent it back into a few others; knocking them over. That's when he ran toward me and I ushered him toward the basement and down we went.

  Once downstairs the others gasped at Tim's gushing wound. Kelly started to yell out and Jim quickly covered her mouth and motioned to the floor above us. Ben began to silently cry. Reggie stared at the floor.

  Despite his pain and realization that he was going to die, he was the one more focused. He pushed us toward the back of the basement where a supply closet was located. The infected upstairs were already at the basement door. Lots of them. They smelled and followed the trail of blood Tim left as we fled.

  TIM: Get in...stay in!

  KELLY: What are you doing?! Get in here!

  TIM: I can't, you know I can't. They are going to get through that door at any minute...I have to lead them away from the house.

  [Ben's crying]

  REGGIE: There's gotta be something...something else we can-

  TIM: There's not. I'm dead anyway...if I stay we all die...I'm leading them away...gonna jump up at the window now. Bust that glass and push those blocks away. Once they see me I'm out. They'll follow. Then you guys get the fuck out of here. Run for that car and go! Go to a safe house or something. This place is lost.

  JIM: If you can get to the truck use it!

  TIM: That'll just keep them around the house. I'm running straight to the field where they came from.

  ME: I'm sorry, man! I don't know what-

  TIM: Nothing to say. Don't you dare get sappy on me! When you have your window you go!

  [Door slams]

  We sat in the cold dark. We heard Tim break the small ground level window and start shoving and pulling at blocks. We heard him shimmy up into the window. It was mere seconds later the basement door busted and we listened as Bolters fell over one another and tumbled down the stairs. Foot steps everywhere.

  Tim screamed for their attention. Dead Calls sounded. More rushed into the basement. I listened as they shoved into each other; all trying to get up through the window at the same time. The ones remaining upstairs could be heard going back out the windows and front door from which they came.

  Tim's screams were getting more distant. Yells for them to follow. Taunting them. Finally we heard what sounded like the last one climbing through the window.

  That was our chance. We waited approximately ten..maybe twenty seconds and then opened the door quietly and made for the window. The basement was clear. I jumped up and peered out. The swarm was in pursuit. Already crossing the road. Tim's taunts still audible but distant.

  One by one we pulled ourselves up and out and made for the SUV. As we huddled in I heard Tim's screaming. But not from yelling or taunting anymore. He was being torn apart.

  We pulled out onto the snow dusted road. I kept the headlights off for a distance as to not attract any from the horde. The closest safe house was The Hutt.

  So that's were we headed for the night.

  ***

>   It was cold. We lined up close to one another with the blankets wrapped firmly around us. We sat in a circling line on one of the circle benches.

  KELLY: It's so cold in here. Are we going to die in here?