Out to the city streets and hours worth of searching is what it took until we found our source of all the damages. One tank.
That’s all that had been responsible, and inside that one tank, one man - a priest nonetheless. He held us stationary with the fifty-caliber machine gun mount until we damn near told him our life stories. I can’t blame him for being so maniacal in his demeanor. The man had obviously been on his own for quite a while. He’s got a scruffy beard, torn priest robe, wooly hair and I could actually smell him aside from the stench of death that already resided in the city.
Father Lowe is his name, and for several weeks, his game has been survival and maniacally taking to this whole scenario as if he is left here for delivering final atonement to the masses of demons, as he calls them. Lowe is a one man wrecking crew with his tank, several pistols and a sledgehammer. Lucky for him that he’s a big enough guy to lug all of those things around, too. I swear he must be about 6’ - 4” and probably a solid 230 lbs. He’s like a f**king professional wrestler with a priest’s robe on.
By nightfall, Lowe was a fan of ours and we of him. We had traded stories for the remainder of the day and had only come across a few ghouls to dispatch. We all ended up in our new hold, Lowe’s Catholic church - one of the only few Catholic churches in the city according to him. He hasn’t discussed too much empathy that he knew of any survivors of any other religious denominations, nor has he had anything kind to say about them either. He’s very proud of himself and his Catholicism. I can tolerate his tirades, I guess, but the one thing that really does bother me is how he has decorated the outside of his church with crucified remains of ghouls. The fact that he’s made the time to get that done suggests his carelessness and more over, a sense of psychosis. I’m glad he’s on our side.
DAY - 88
Morning starts early with Lowe. He gets up and begins praying loud and maniacally from his podium just like he’s got a full house for mass. I asked him if the dramatic sermon was all for our benefit, and he shockingly said that he does that every morning - that the souls of all the lost and mislead must be finding their way to his congregation since he is the last holy man left. He’s certain that he is the final doorway for them from out of this purgatory. Fred and Ellen are rather fed up with Lowe’s comments - it’s so evident in their actions, but I also remember them talking about their Baptist beliefs on one of our first nights together. Beth just seems to want to laugh at Lowe. Myself, I’m a bit worried about pissing him off, still. That, and I plan on continuing to use him as a map to this city. Oh, and I’m definitely not letting on to Lowe that I keep this journal. There’s no way I’m letting him read this thing.
Our first chance at using Lowe as our map came about noon today. Lowe piped up rather loud and proclaimed that it was time to eat. He grabbed his sledgehammer and a pistol and just took to walking outside without even checking through a window at what could be out there waiting for him. He had no care in the world. He was lucky to get past a slow, stumbling ghoul just by shoving it aside and making his way atop the tank. I hurried behind and spliced the ghoul’s head in half like a banana. Lowe just laughed at me and said a nonchalant, thank you. He then yelled at us to quit being lurkers in this world and to hurry up and get either in or on top of the tank to go for a ride. We all just went with the flow.
The girls got inside, and Fred and I stayed outside on the front of the tank. We had the flamethrowers and had to torch about ten or so ghouls before we ended our trek at an ice cream store. Lowe popped out of the tank with just his sledgehammer and proclaiming that today was as good a day as any to please his sweet tooth.
Hours passed, and we found ourselves in the ice cream parlor just sitting in booths looking out the thick glass windows and doors and having huge mixtures of whatever ice cream was left available. I’m thinking that Lowe had his fill of the place several times before. The streets were calm for those few hours. It was peaceful actually. I almost felt like I had a moment back from my regular life, sitting with friends and just chatting about whatever bullshit came to mind. Of course, it didn’t last. We were suddenly pitted against another mangled ghoul of a dog, a big one, too. I think it was a Bull Mastiff or maybe just a big ass Chow. Whatever, though, that wasn’t the highlight of the scenario. The limelight drew down solely on Lowe as he simply said, “ God dammit, “ and he slowly walked outside the parlor with his sledgehammer, held it like a baseball bat and waited for the dog to take a lunge at him. The dog finally did lunge after acting funny, to which Lowe swung hard and not only broke the dog’s neck completely backwards but also sent several of the dog’s teeth hitting and slowly sliding down one of the parlor windows. Beth’s eyes grew big like silver dollars, Ellen about choked on her ice cream, Fred started laughing his ass off and I just stood up in case that wasn’t the end of the fight.
It did end the fight, though. Lowe came back inside the parlor and took back to finishing his ice cream and talking about nothing in particular.
While prepping for another decent night’s sleep, I found time to converse with Fred privately. I wanted him to know my thoughts on Lowe - I want the guy on our side, but he’s a psychotic who may not respect the magnitude of what is really going on? Then I asked him about Camo - I hadn’t seen him since in the tank, and I’d hate Lowe to find him first.
Fred just laughed.
DAY - 89
I hate stitches. I hate swelling, too. I’ve got a damned plastic bag with ice cream in it on my swelling in hopes that it goes down so that I can see out of my left eye again, and soon. Oh, and that old saying comes into play, as well - “ you should see the other guy! “ In this case, the other guy is Lowe. He’s tied up in a chair with enough of his own bumps and bruises right now. Fred added most of those to him, but I know the first hit came from Beth. That’s what caught Lowe by surprise and took his big ass down for Fred and Ellen to finally make a move on him and subdue him. By the way, props to Ellen for the stitches. I’ve looked in the bathroom mirror and they seem to be quite professional and tight in pattern.
See, Fred had awoken early this morning before Lowe even awoke. The two of them were talking for a while before the rest of us even considered getting up. Fred told Lowe what we were after in Antelope State Park - the island housing the base that we want to infiltrate for the real problem that has befallen the masses. Lowe couldn’t comprehend that it’s anything less than the rapture, and it was his ranting and raving from his podium on the topic that awoke the rest of us. I made it a point to yell and interrupt him, telling him what I thought and how I felt things needed to be dealt with. Lowe was suddenly eager for us to show him our boat. The next thing we knew, we were on the tank again and on our way to the dock.
Once at the dock, we found our boat being inspected by a few ghouls. The shoreline had several more ghouls wandering about, and down the street we saw a l
ine of ghouls heading towards the north end of the city. No sooner than I could step off of the tank to start cutting my way to our boat, Lowe had fired one of the tank’s shells. He completely destroyed our boat in one quick blast. I snapped and commenced to trying my hardest to get inside the tank to kick the shit out of him. I’m told that the fight didn’t last all that long, and that the ghouls from the street were just as soon drawn to our commotion. The fight I started could have cost us our lives if not for everyone else's quick actions to end it. For all of that I apologize.
Lowe is very unsympathetic about our loss of the boat. He says a tank is better any day. Well, now it has to be, doesn’t it? He said he just thought to show us the power and accuracy of the tank, and that he was still heavily infatuated with it because he had only acquired it about a week ago. That means had he been in the tank before, he might have targeted us and blown us out of the water the first time we entered the city and acquired the boat. Convenience is always a matter of opinion to some, but damn, it keeps being crucial for us.
Fred is currently cluing Lowe in on how things are going to be done from here on out - through our lead. Fred can be very persuasive, but who knows what that crazy fuck, Lowe will take seriously. I do know that Fred found and has used Camo to shove in Lowe’s face a few times - apparently Lowe is afraid of little critters. It's like mice to an elephant.
I have another plan brewing, too. I want to visit the armory where that tank came from and see what other artillery they have for us. Then, I want to find a tall building that isn’t so full of ghouls that we can use its roof without worry. I really want another high point view of Antelope State Park.
DAY - 90
Our day started early enough, as even though Lowe was tied to a chair, he still managed to begin preaching aloud to his supposed lost souls. I just went ahead and untied him and stood dead before him waiting for him to try something - anything - I could have cared less. I about wanted to kill a live person for once, and I don’t think it would have bothered me in the least. Lowe is full of surprises, though. He smiled big and held out his hand for me to shake it. I thought about it for probably a good two minutes, put my other hand on my sword and properly shook his hand. Lowe called me a rogue warrior - that I wasn’t exactly what God had wanted for filling his purpose, but that he was obviously accepting of me and able to look past my flaws. Now, I’m not the holy type, and I never have been, but it got me thinking. I am among the only of my species left. I probably do have some type of angel on my shoulder, luck, good karma or whatever - maybe it really could be something divine. Then again, a part of me thinks that I’m just business first, and by not fucking around, I’m still standing. Oh, and thanks, Fred, for saying whatever it took to get this crazy fucker to understand what we’re trying to do. Also, thanks for finding a nice, little duffel bag to put Camo inside of. I know you think I’m crazy for keeping him, but I think he’s going to help us more than a canary in a coal mine.
Lowe has led us to this high rise, and his rage helped secure us in the underground parking section. We found a place where the mutating ghouls are going, though. They apparently are moving out of the sunlight. We were immediately fighting off a swarm of the four legged style ghouls and even some that I’ve yet to encounter - ones without necks. They looked more like huge bodybuilders with that no-neck look to them, but they were moving around like gorillas. Their arms even looked to be longer and thicker than they should have been.
Those ghouls weren’t too afraid to swing and strike at the tank, but in return a lot of them ended up being snagged by the tank track and dragged to be mangled beneath it. Some just ripped away from the arms they lost in the track and still kept coming. I pretty much kept a golf swing with the sword for the entire attack. Fred torched the a lot of them, but the fires eventually set off the sprinkler system in the garage.
Ellen and Beth were quick to give Fred a nitrogen gun to start freezing the ghouls. Lowe stopped the tank at the main stairwell to the building and got out to help us. He took excitement at smashing the nitrogen frozen ghouls with his sledgehammer.
I later found out that the binoculars I took out from the tank were shit. That’s when I decided to try looking around on the top level of offices. Beth wanted to come along, and I accepted her company. I only wanted her to go with me, though. I actually told the others not to follow Beth and I. I guess that part of it was my wanting some alone time with Beth and confiding things to her. The other reason is that I knew there may be ghouls in the offices, and that I would have to move quick and possibly run more than fighting. I trusted Beth to keep up. As it turned out, we had only two ghouls that we came across - janitors, and they were still pushing around mops. Beth and I shared a long laugh before taking them down. Minutes later we found what I was looking for - a window office of someone who still couldn’t resist the temptation of voyeurism. I found a telescope, and it’s a big, nice, expensive one, too. I've yet to use the telescope, though as we took the time to all make this top level of offices our new hold for tonight. I mean, bathrooms, snack and drink machines - perfect. I can't wait for sunrise.
DAY - 91
Hearing Lowe laugh at us is more than annoying. It’s just flat out fucking pissing me off. The problem is that he has every right to laugh. Everything we thought we knew about the causeway was an optical illusion. The causeway is not a bridge. It’s a long, thin, two lane road on a man made sand bar of sorts. My initial plan is shot to hell. I was hoping to gather the ghouls all on the bridge and blow it once we were secured on the island. I could have drowned the masses of ghouls and probably shorted out the nanotech in a matter of seconds. Only the floaters would be left to contend with, and they don’t seem too many to worry about. The island has it’s own marina, and I can see they have boats there just waiting for us to use. The water would have been such a great barricade for us and give us plenty of time to try and get something going in the underground base. But it’s all a lot more complicated, now. If I want to rid us of the ghouls in mass, then the best new plan is to first clear the city side of the causeway from ghouls and rig explosives there. Step two would be rigging more explosives on the island side of the causeway - meaning having to clear whatever ghouls we encounter on the causeway at that time. Step three would be rounding up every ghoul we can find in the entire city and leading them onto the causeway - that means all of us, maybe becoming bait to some extent. Step four would be surviving the whole distance of the causeway and then blowing both ends remotely as soon as we are secured on the island.
We all talked about the plan. I’m pretty sure that everyone thinks I’m a fucking idiot, but they aren’t against finding some explosives. That’s going to put us at making tomorrow an early start at going to the small armory where Lowe got his tank. We should at least walk out of the armory with enough f
irepower to persuade them further into the idea of baiting and trapping.
The bulk of our work for today was gathering snack foods and drinks that we could securely place inside the tank. We trekked through several different floors to the building before we finally ended up in cafeteria area on the second floor. There were many ghouls in there, and I swear it looked like they had been having food fights for months. We did our usual in dispatching them, but it was extra special when we realized that we were taking out bankers and collections officers - those people that always end up calling you if you are so much as two days late on a credit card payment. Assholes!
We all ended up enjoying their destruction a little too much.
After the melee, I looked into the little duffel bag for Camo. He had turned that red color again in the presence of ghouls. I had forgotten to check him yesterday after the garage scenario, but I’ll bet that he turned just as red then, too. He is going to be our canary in a coal mine. We’ve basically found the closest thing to having a radar for ghouls. I watched him closely as we packed the tank today, too. He never changed colors in the garage, and we never did see or even hear a ghoul.
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