It is strange not to have anything to do but relax. I miss NFL football.
A little while ago, we heard vehicles down on the highway. It sounded like Semi trucks and motorcycles. They were headed south. We listened for an hour after they passed, but didn’t hear anything else. Albert monitored the CB frequencies but there was no radio traffic.
While part of me wants to make contact with them, the other part (the very miniscule intelligent part of me) remembers Wayne the biker and Karl Jackson. Who those travelers are is a mystery I don’t care to solve.
If Grace is feeling better tomorrow, we will try to make it to Eugene. I am not allowing myself to think too much about my father. He’s more competent than I am, so I know he is fine. It’s going to be amazing to be home again after all that’s happened.
I remember when the plague first broke out, my father told me to come up and stay with him. I think about how different my life would be if I had listened to him.
Tonight I am taking the first guard shift for once. I want to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.
DAY 97
I killed an uninfected man with my bare hands today.
I then proceeded to shoot and kill four more uninfected. I have washed my hands raw, but I can still feel that asshole’s blood on them. I don’t know how to organize my thoughts. I’m not feeling very articulate. I am torn between anger and anguish and I don’t know how to deal with it right now.
I want the people who created this plague to burn in hell. Then again, the human race deserves what happened… This isn’t helping…
DAY 98
After rereading my last entry, I am tempted to tear it out.
It reads like a madman’s ranting. In my defense though, after what I had to deal with, I’m surprised I’m still relatively sane.
We left the gift shop yesterday morning at around 6 a.m. The drive up to Eugene was fairly uneventful. We had the usual blocked highway / abandoned car issues to deal with, and a few undead tackling our vehicle, but made it into the outskirts of town a little after 1 p.m. I think I had been secretly hoping that Eugene had somehow survived the plague.
I felt depression set in as we drove into the city itself. Autzen football Stadium was burned to the ground; its concrete structure, jagged and crumbling, the only evidence of its existence. From what we saw, Eugene has been overrun with undead. I started to panic when I saw that the banks of the Willamette River (that runs through the middle of the town) were flooded.
My dad’s house was near the river. I drove pretty recklessly until I reached my parent’s street. Most of the houses on their block were either burned down or in shambles. The river had flooded the street at some point and receded.
My dad’s house, the house I grew up in, lay in ruins, abandoned. I barely remember what I did when I saw it. At one point, I remember standing on the collapsed debris that used to be a roof and Alison shaking me, telling me there was nothing here and that we needed to go.
I think I told her and the rest of the group to just leave. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. I am thankful that nobody listened to me. They just waited patiently for me while I freaked out. I watched numbly as Chloe scrambled over the wreckage, sniffing around and digging at the rubble. Albert tried to convince me to get back in the SUV, then Jim, and even Marion. I wouldn’t listen to any of them.
When I pictured my parents somewhere under all the wreckage I lost it, and started sobbing uncontrollably. I threw something at Chloe to get her to stop rooting around, suddenly afraid of what she might dig up.
I was sitting on the remains of the chimney and had been staring at something for a while when I slowly realized what it was. Nailed to an upright beam was a piece of paper with a cartoon on it. Somebody had sealed it in a zip-lock bag to protect it and nailed it in plain sight.
I recognized it. It is a drawing of a man standing in profile with a giant screw stuck through his chest and out his back. The caption reads: “Be kind and good natured, you’ll always get your reward.”
The cartoon used to be stuck on the water heater in the basement. I idly wondered what it was doing here, when the water heater was probably under the rubble somewhere. Something clicked in my head and I began searching for a way into the basement below me. I was suddenly sure my parents weren’t dead. I’m sure Alison and everybody else thought that I had finally lost it.
On the back side of the house I found a large board leaning against the foundation. I pulled it up and found an entrance under the house. I clicked on my Surefire light and carefully lowered myself down into the darkness below. There was two feet of standing water covering the floor. A musty odor permeated the entire area. The once-familiar basement felt unwelcoming and cold.
Oddly, except for the water, the entire area was well preserved. The floor above had held. I found my dad’s reloading room. His safe was up on the workbench, out of the water. My palms started to sweat despite the cold. I knew my dad wasn’t down there but I was still apprehensive.
I stood in front of the safe for a good minute before turning the dial. My dad and I had both keyed the same combinations to our safes. I spun the dial through the numbers and then exhaled. I turned the handle and it swung open on its hinges. Inside was a cache of ammunition (with plenty of .22 caliber, of course) several handguns and a folding carbine, two cases of freeze dried food, a first aid kit, and a note.
I opened the paper and shined my light on it but still couldn’t read it through my stupid tears. I wiped them away and sniffed loudly, trying to compose myself.
The letter read:
“Son, if you are reading this, know that I am alive. I regret to inform you that your stepmother did not survive. She became infected early on and I had to put her to rest. She is in a better place now. She had once told me that she did not want to survive in this world, and that no sane person would want to. She asked me to end her suffering several times but I could not bring myself to do it. The last thing she told me was that she would see us both again.
I am sorry I cannot tell you this in person. I waited for you here for several weeks, but the river flooded me out. When I was able, I returned here every day. I come back each Monday now to wait until noon. If you are reading this and I am not here, I am staying at Loy’s old farm house out in Creswell. Here are some supplies. Take them with you. Come find me. Dad”
I reread the letter several times, barely believing it was real. I was saddened by the news of my stepmother, but grateful and elated that my father was alive. I folded the letter carefully and put it in my front pocket. I grabbed one of the ammo cans and sloshed my way back to the entrance. I clicked off my flashlight and stuck it in my belt so I could use both hands to toss up the ammunition.
Just then, a shadow fell across the entrance above me and someone dropped down into the basement with me, landing with a splash. My weapon was slung around behind me and both my pistols were secure in their holsters. Whoever it was jabbed me in the right shoulder with something sharp.
I pushed the body away from me and instinctively drove a kick into my attacker’s mid-section. I heard a grunt and the person bounced off the wall and stumbled back toward me. My right arm was numb. I ignored it and reached for the .44 on my hip (for once, there was an advantage to being left handed).
I wasn’t fast enough because whoever it was slammed into me and we both went down into the murky liquid. The freezing water was a shock to my system and I nearly inhaled it into my lungs. I felt a searing pain in my shoulder and for the first time realized that there was something stuck in it.
We thrashed and clawed at each other until I finally managed to disengage. I stumbled to my feet, soaking wet and shivering. Someone surfaced in the darkness in front of me and lunged again. All I could think about was to keep its mouth away from me. I was trying to grab its throat by brail, but my thumbs found eye sockets. I dug them in and shoved the body b
ackwards, slipping and splashing in the darkness.
It (he) kneed me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I dug my thumbs deeper and returned the favor, pistoning my knee up into his ribs. I heard him exhale and smelled foul breath. His hands grabbed at mine, trying to get me to let go. I slammed my assailant into the wall and kneed him again for good measure.
My right arm was numb. I felt it spasm and twitch, threatening to give. I pulled my right thumb out of my new pal’s eye socket and grabbed a handful of his greasy long hair. I yanked my attacker’s head back, banging it into the concrete wall and exposing his neck. With my left hand I grabbed at the handle of the knife sticking in my right shoulder.
Bursts of light exploded behind my eyes accompanied an electrical jolt as the blade slid out of me. I drove the weapon into my assailant’s throat, jamming it in up to the hilt. When I yanked it out, a spray of warm arterial blood splashed my face and upper body.
I stuck the knife in the person’s neck again, over and over. I heard him gurgle and moan. His knees gave out and he slowly slid down the wall and into the water. His body flopped sideways into the inky blackness.
I flung the knife away. I was shaking with rage. I was pissed that nobody warned me about this asshole and then realized that my friends might be in trouble. I drew my Colt and clicked off the safety. I aimed up into the entrance but couldn’t see anyone. I engaged the safety and took a step back. I crouched and then jumped up to the edge of the foundation. I caught the top of the wall and pulled myself up, my shoulder screaming at me.
I rolled across the ground and came up into a crouch, disengaging the safety and pushing the weapon out in front of me. Immediately I saw my companions being held at gunpoint in front of the Expedition by three ratty looking people. Alison was holding onto Chloe, who was growling menacingly. This seemed to amuse our attackers more than worry them.
I heard someone to my left say, “That boy down there have anything to eat?”
I turned to see a fourth man in his forties aiming a shotgun at my friends. He wasn’t looking at me when he spoke, but turned to look at me when I didn’t respond. He clearly thought I was the guy I left down in the basement. His eyes widened in surprise.
Although I didn’t think about it at the time, I must have looked like something out of Dante’s Inferno, blood-soaked and rising out of a pit in the earth.
I didn’t hesitate. I shot him in the face and took aim at my next target before he fell. I shot a stocky woman in the back between the shoulder blades. Her gun clattered to the ground and she fell, face down.
To her right, a hillbilly in his twenties turned to see what the commotion was. My first round caught him in the stomach and the second burrowed into his chest, knocking him off his feet.
To his right, an old woman in a denim jacket was holding a bolt-action rifle. She dropped it and raised her hands. Her jaw worked up and down but no sounds came out. Finally, she found her voice.
“Don’t kill me, mister. We wasn’t going to hurt nobody. We was just looking for food. You don’t got to kill…”
The bark of my pistol cut her off. A chunk of her skull blew outward at an odd angle and she dropped in her tracks. I scanned the area looking for more targets. My ears rang loudly. Not seeing any immediate threats, I reached for a fresh magazine and dropped the old one out. I hadn’t been counting my rounds and didn’t want to take any chances. Reloaded, I clicked the safety on and holstered my Colt, switching to my CAR 15.
I saw movement to my left and took aim. An infected man scrambled over the rubble of the house next door. I dropped him with the second shot. I heard Alison yelling at me and I looked over. I hadn’t noticed her approach me.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, putting her hand to my bloody face. “It’s not mine.” I growled.
“We have to get out of here. There may be more of them.” Alison said.
I didn’t know if she was talking about the Infected or the rednecks. As I mentioned before, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was furious that these shitheads had trespassed on my father’s property and I was looking for a fight. I cursed in fury, daring anyone to incur my wrath.
I could see over a dozen undead running up the street toward us. I wanted to kill every last one of them. I wanted to retrieve the things from my dad’s safe. Somehow Alison convinced me to leave. I watched as everybody loaded into our SUVs and then opened the driver’s side door to the Expedition.
I whistled loudly and a moment later Chloe came bolting out from under the ruins. She had smartly run for cover once the gunfire had started. She leapt into the vehicle and I got in behind her, closing the door just as a plague victim slammed into it.
I honestly don’t remember the drive out to Loy Cutter’s farm. My dad had been good friends with Mr. Cutter and I had gone shooting in his fields as a boy. When Loy died, my dad purchased the property, but hadn’t done anything with it except gone hunting there occasionally.
The place is remote and sits on forty acres. Trees surround the property as well as a barbed- wire fence. The house itself sits up on a hill overlooking overgrown grassy fields. The front gate across the road was locked but I remembered where the key was hidden.
When we got to the house, it was empty. No note, nothing. It has been well kept, well stocked, and recently occupied. We searched the grounds but couldn’t find anything to tell us the fate of my father.
There is a working generator in the basement and blackout curtains around the house. I also noted the solar panels on the roof when we got here. At first, I was angry that everyone just made themselves at home, but realized that I was just out of sorts.
I tried to write in this journal to organize my thoughts and calm down last night, but that obviously didn’t work out very well. I finally fell asleep and didn’t wake up until almost noon today. Someone cleaned and dressed my stab wound sometime during the night. My shoulder is stiff and sore, but I can move it.
I walked into the kitchen and was in awe at the normalcy of the situation.
Cody and Grace were coloring at the table. Alison and Marion were baking what smelled suspiciously like cookies. Through the window I could see Albert and Jim unloading our gear out of our SUVs.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so peaceful. The monstrous rage I felt the day before was a fading memory. Alison looked over and smiled at me. Cody and Grace glanced up nervously, but both quickly went back to what they were doing, trying to ignore me. I’m sure I had been pretty terrifying to them; a blood-soaked boogey man to fuel their nightmares.
Marion called the guys in and we all sat at the table. Alison served us eggs, potatoes, and toast. Cody complained, wanting cookies instead, but Marion promised him they would have treats later. Albert grinned lamely at me but didn’t have anything to say, so he stuffed his face with food.
Everyone dug in except me. I felt ashamed at my behavior, depressed that my stepmother had passed, and that I had no idea where my father was. I was grateful to be alive and safe. My throat was tight as I looked around at my… family.
Jim glanced up and, after a minute of studying me, pointed a wedge of toast in my direction and said, “We’ll find him.”
I nodded and swallowed hard. We all ate in comfortable silence.
This afternoon Albert and I walked the perimeter of the property, making sure there were no breaks in the fence.
I cleaned my weapons and finally took Cody out to teach him to shoot. He was a little quiet around me until I sat him on a log and said, “What I did yesterday was terrible, but I did it to protect all of you. Everyone here is your family, Cody. That means we look out for each other, no matter what it takes. You understand?”
Cody thought about it for a minute and then nodded. He picked up the basics of marksmanship pretty quickly. I thought I would regret bringing him with us but I was wrong. He’s exactly what we needed.
Tonight aft
er Cody and Grace were asleep we sat in the living room to discuss our future. We chanced making a fire in the fireplace and enjoyed the warmth and comfort it provided. We talked about the usual stuff - food, supplies, fuel, safety.
We skirted the thing everyone really wanted to talk about until I finally just came out and said it. “Unless any of you have somewhere else you want to be, as far as I’m concerned, we’re all home. We have a legitimate claim to this place and we can be safe here.”
Everybody looked at each other, but nobody spoke for a moment. A log crackled, and firelight danced about the room.
“That offer extends to all of us?” Jim drawled.
“Are you going to make me get all gooey on you and beg you to stay?” I asked. Everybody smiled.
Albert looked at me solemnly and said, “I’ve never really had something that was mine. I lived with Mom for a while, and I stayed in the back room at the security company when I worked there. Then I stayed with you after this all happened. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I wouldn’t be anywhere…”
He opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it.
We spent the next hour just enjoying the quiet. For the first time since leaving Kester’s preserve, we did not assign guard duties. I was a little nervous about it at first, but warmed to the idea the more I thought about it.
As I sit here writing this, Alison and Chloe are sleeping peacefully on the bed. I can hear a light rain pattering on the roof. After all that we’ve been through, have we finally found a place to call home? The skeptical side of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop. If my dad returns though, my life will be complete. It is almost too much to hope for.
DAY 99
I woke up early this morning before dawn.
I took Chloe outside and just stood on the dewy grass looking up at the stars. I could see my breath drift out in vaporous clouds. Chloe sniffed around and explored the area. An owl sat in a tree looking down at me. We stared at each other until it got bored and looked away.
100 Days of Death Page 33