Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 7): The Trinity

by Chris Philbrook

  Dwayne hates gay people, and Alex and George predictably hate him. So yesterday afternoon we had to send a team out to the tower to retrieve Alex and George, and drop off Angela and her son Danny to take their place. Angela was not excited to pull that duty, but Danny sure was. He was excited to live in a new place, even if it was just for a day or two. I think he was also excited because we had been getting reports from them that the zeds had been pretty active in town, and he really wanted to get some shooting practice in. That kid is a crack shot! Plus he’s adorable, and kind of huge, like an awkward, growing teddy bear. The younger girls here at school eyeball him like he’s the quarterback of the team. Some things never change. Luckily for them, Angela has raised an excellent young man, and he’ll make someone a very good boyfriend when she allows it.

  Mike said the roads down to the tower were much thicker than normal with zeds. He said the ambulance was hitting them left and right the entire way down, and they had to do some serious shooting around to clear the area so they could get out. He made it sound like it was horrible, but when I talked to James about it, James said it wasn’t that bad. Maybe we’re just spoiled with how few zeds we’ve had to kill lately? Makes some sense right? You get used to things.

  Speaking of James, he’s been hunting pretty consistently on the back side of campus, far from the road. He’s switched to using that bow Adrian was teaching himself how to use, so he hasn’t gotten anything the past few days. He says he needs a few days of archery practice, and then he’s going to put out something called a “salt lick” to draw in the deer. He said something about there being moose in this neck of the woods too, which would be cool. Those things are huge! I saw one once when we all vacationed up north? You remember that thing Dad? We went out late at night with those flashlights and looked out the car windows to see them? There was that one huge one on the side of the road just chilling that I swear was tall enough for me to walk under. Of course I was ten at the time and I probably could’ve walked under it, but you remember right? I remember Randy screaming bloody murder when we drove past that thing too.

  That seems so long ago.

  Kinda sad.

  So, as I was saying, James is going to put out whatever a salt lick is, and he claims it will get us at least a deer or two. He’s also thinking once the zeds calm down again, he should take a hummer and another person out to another spot somewhere in town so he can hunt in a different area. He’s worried that he’ll hunt all the deer to death, and then we’ll be out until more move into the area. I don’t know anything about deer migration patterns, and that’s assuming they migrate at all, but he does seem to make sense.

  No one wants him to go anywhere though until the zeds are back on the downswing, and who knows how long that’ll be.

  Mallory pointed out a really strange (or appropriate, depending on how you look at it) coincidence the other day when we were sitting next to Adrian in the hospital. She was holding his hand, and rubbing it as I talked to Caleb about how I’d shot like, five zombies that night at the gate, and that we’d have to go out there with a truck in the morning to pick up the bodies again. Mallory just stops, and looks over at the rest of the people there, and has this strange look on her face.

  Caleb, Adrian’s brother is like, “Mal, what’s up, you okay?”

  And Mallory, just like she normally is, just kind of smiles funny, and says like, “Isn’t it weird how all these zombies just started showing up when Adrian got hurt? Ten times as many come every day now. It’s almost like he was keeping them away with his presence.”

  And every one of us just knew she was right.

  It makes all the sense in the world. I know I haven’t talked much about this dad, but the reality is; Adrian is special. Very special. We all know he has these dreams where he talks to the dead, and I will never forget the day all those zeds appeared outside holding up all those books. Heck, the books are still stacked up in the library, wall to wall. Coloring books, dictionaries, Twilight, you name it, they are there.

  It was so obviously a message to us. To Adrian more likely, but you get the point.

  I also can’t help but think about the night Gilbert killed himself. I struggle a lot Dad with how that went down. I knew I pulled the trigger, but it was him killing himself. I sat up late in bed many a night crying myself to sleep as quiet as I could telling myself over and over it wasn’t my fault. That there was nothing I could’ve done. That at least it was me, a friend, a loved one that was the one to make sure Gilbert died how he wanted to, and made sure that he didn’t sit back up and try to eat us.

  I’ll never forget what Gilbert said to me that night. One of the last things he said alive was about Adrian, and I dream about what he said. More than how he told me it was my responsibility to take care of Adrian. This is what I remember:

  “The Devil’s out to get him, but he’s got bigger friends in bigger places rooting for him. He’s chosen Abigail. Chosen. Plucked from the masses like a shining jewel of what we can be, and not what we have been.”

  Gilbert also said two more like him were coming. He didn’t know who they were, or when they’d get here, but I know as sure as I love Gavin, and I love you and Randy and Mom, he was right. There ARE two more people coming. They WILL help Adrian.

  I just hope they hurry.

  Factoid about my buddy: he hates Sudoku, but loves word searches. He can crank 'em out super fast. It’s hilarious late at night when he can’t sleep. He’s managed to accumulate about thirty word search books from our house looting, and he’s got them squirreled away in his and Mallory’s room for safekeeping. When he can’t sleep, he often sits in the kitchen with a pencil or pen, doing his word search, waiting for his brain to shut off.

  Also, an easy way to piss Adrian off, is to circle words on a search he hasn’t found yet. Instant anger. He’s so silly.

  Abby

  October 21st

  Normally I’m not a really superstitious kind of person, but right now, I’m freaking the heck out. Not cool at all man, not cool at all.

  Dad, I just had the strangest dream. I know Adrian had lots of dreams, and I know Gavin had a dream that made him think that Adrian was the most important person ever, so I’m like, super super sensitive about what I dream about. Like, to the point of me writing down all my dreams when I wake up and things are weird in said dream.

  Tonight, I woke up, and I wrote some stuff down. And that is just NEVER good Dad. Never. It’s like being late for your period. Well, I can’t actually say that, because I was never late for my period. I kept my legs shut for the vast majority of my life. Well, the part of it where I could theoretically be sexually active.

  Relieved? Yep, you should be. I could’ve been the high school whore here at Auburn Lake Prep, but nope, I was the good daughter, eschewing boys for books and nerdy pursuits like trolling anime forums, and cosplay picture galleries.

  Yep, nerd and proud of it. Call me the Geek Gunfighter.

  Now I can’t fully say that I didn’t get my good share Dad, that’d be a real lie, and with you being dead and all, I feel like being fully open and honest about things is really important. Full disclosure. So yeah, I am not a virgin, and I’ve done well for myself, but I am not a skank. I have morals and stuff.

  Not many granted, and I rarely use the morals lately, but I have them. Thanks for being a good parent.

  So I had this really messed up dream last night. It was messed up for two huge reasons.

  Reason #1: I usually only barely remember my dreams. Even when I wake up, and they’re still pretty like, fresh in my head, I often have to like, recollect them to really remember them. This dream was vivid, like something that had JUST happened a few minutes ago in the real world.

  Reason #2: I dreamt of the dead. And they had things to say.

  I took pretty good notes before I fired up the laptop here so I should be able to make some solid sense of this. Hopefully it all translates. I am so tired.

  In the dream I was sitting in our
house back in Westfield, upstairs in my room. I was like, on my bed with the television on and running, and I think there was just an endless stream of commercials running or something forgettable. So I’m sitting there, zoning out, reading some comic or magazine, or maybe a school textbook, and I look up for no reason I can remember, and standing in the doorway of my bedroom is Gavin, my boyfriend.

  Well, ex-boyfriend really. He’s dead. Once I saw him leaning up against the doorway, all tall, and awkward and handsome and yummy, I just knew something was up. I knew this wasn’t just a regular dream. I haven’t dreamt of Gavin once, and I knew from Adrian and everyone else’s dreams (including my own) that we just don’t dream about the living. The only people who show up in our dreams now are dead folks.

  So I was sitting cross legged on my bed, and he walks in slowly and looks around, taking it all in. He’d never been to my room at the house before, so it was his first visit. It makes sense now that he took the time to check it out before he started talking to me. I waited until he was ready, just looking at him, knowing it was a dream, and he wasn’t really there. It sucked.

  Gavin turns to me, and says, “Hey baby. Sorry I couldn’t come around before this. Things have been kind of hectic here. Doing what we can to make things better for everyone.”

  I just nodded, I was still pretty much in awe that he was in my dream.

  “It is so hard to talk to people that are still around. Adrian is so much easier for us, and it takes us weeks to build up the ability to talk to him, and even then it doesn’t always work. It is taking a bunch of us working together for me to talk to you right now, and I don’t have long.”

  “Okay. I miss you. I love you,” I said. Priorities, right Dad?

  He smiled in that silly way where his little dimples pop up, and he got all rosy. So adorable. “I miss you too. I love you so much. Did Adrian tell you to move on yet? I mean it. You have a lot of time left I think, and if you find someone, go for it. There’s no guarantee we’ll see each other again, and even if we do, I understand. I want you to be happy.”

  I started crying, and I blabbed on about how I could never, and how he didn’t understand, and he just shot me down in the sweetest way. I don’t remember exactly what he said, and my notes are all messy from the crying I did, but he basically told me to be happy, and that made him happy. Jury’s still out. Showing up in my dreams doesn’t make me want to move on at all.

  Then he gets all serious on me. “Adrian is hurt, and so is Blake. They are stuck. It’s like they are ghosts. They wander in between our world, and yours, and we are working to help them get back. We’re still trying to figure it out.”

  “They’re both in comas,” I said.

  “That makes sense. Gilbert is working on it. We’re not sure what’s up, but there’s something different between the two of them. It’s almost like they’re stuck for different reasons. I think we can fix one on our end, but the other might need to be fixed on your end. We’re hoping to fix one or the other within a few days.”

  “What can we do? How can we help?” I asked him.

  “That’s why I’m here. Gilbert said you guys need to get them in the best health you can, as fast as you can. Anything that makes them worse, sends them a little further to our side, and we really can’t afford to have Adrian die. He’s the Scribe you know. The Soul. One of The Trinity.”

  I nodded. I knew enough about that to not need a full explanation. Right about then Gavin sat down on the edge of my bed, and rested his cool hand on top of my knee. God it felt so good to feel that familiar touch again Dad. I know it probably creeps you out to hear about a boy touching me, but it felt so good. Comfortable. I’ve missed him so much.

  “You guys need to be very careful. Evil has been plotting this moment for a very fucking long time, and shooting Adrian wasn’t the killing blow. Expect something terrible to happen soon. Like, very soon. Be on guard. Gilbert is sure there’s a storm coming.” He squeezed my hand again, and stood up from the bed. I wanted him to kiss me so bad, just one last time, but I knew he wouldn’t. I just knew it.

  “Remember, I’ll always love you. But be happy. If you can fall in love again do it. Do it in a heartbeat. I will never forgive you if you don’t take that opportunity. Be safe, send everyone my love.”

  And I woke up.

  Now, I am sad, and paranoid. I need to sleep. I need to rest. I don’t know how Adrian dealt with all these messed up dreams. They sit in your head like a fricking cancer, thumping, pounding, rotting away your goodness.

  Oh wait. I know how he dealt with it. Sleeping pills. I’m gonna sneak into Mal’s room and grab the bottle I know Adrian has in his bed stand. Tomorrow, I will tell the others about this dream, and see how crazy they think I am.

  Well, they already know I’m crazy, I guess we’ll find out how much crazier they think I’ve gotten.

  Abby

  October 23rd

  Adrian used to call them, “Come to Jesus,” meetings. In his case, I can kind of see that making a lot of literal sense. He seems to be our modern equivalent of a religious figure here, which is really fricking weird when I type it. Or say it. Or think it.

  Sometimes I think about how he used to be night staff at the school here, and how he was just another guy that helped out the sick kids, or broke up fights, or caught kids smoking, or helped us fix broken things in our rooms, or helped the homesick kids get through the night with a good joke, or a hot cup of cocoa. Now look at him.

  We have a MOUND of unlit candles in the clinic that folks have left for him, as a way to send him their best. No one wants to light them now. It’d be a waste of a candle in Adrian’s eyes, and the last thing they want to do is send a message to him, by doing something they know he’d frown upon. Not that he wouldn’t frown on them paying him all this attention anyway, but I hope you get the point Dad.

  I called a, “Come to Abby,” meeting early this morning. It took me some time to puff up the ovaries to do it, but I’m glad I did, because what we talked about wound up being pretty relevant this evening.

  I brought in all the usual suspects. Mike, Mom, Angela, Amanda, Lindsey, Doc Lindsey, James, Ryan, heck, pretty much everyone. We had to relocate the meeting to the cafeteria because we ran out of space in Hall A. It was weird, everyone watching me, listening to me, and just living every breath for what I said. I guess I was convincing when I said I had a dream, and wanted to talk about it.

  Today was the first time that people listened to me Dad. I mean really, really listened to me. I’ve always been the girl in the back, or the tomboy, or the nerdy chick that everyone can’t stand because I’m smart, and geeky. I really was super nervous when I started to talk, and everyone sat there, respectfully listening. I guess I was expecting high school pricks.

  But, I am not in high school anymore.

  I told them about my dream. I glossed over all the mushy boy/girl agenda Gavin and I exchanged, and pretty much just focused on what he said about Blake and Adrian, and how Gilbert was saying that the shit is going to hit the fan. What’s odd, is I used the words “storm is coming” and not an hour later, the weather turned on us, and it started to rain pretty heavily, foiling our plans for the day, which I’ll get to in a bit.

  Alright so the mixed reactions were just what I expected. Some of the people here just laughed, and got up to leave, and some of the folks sat there, fully listening and accepting what I said as the full on truth. There are some folks here that KNOW Adrian’s dreams were legit, and the fact that I had one so vivid, was just too much to ignore.

  Arguments ensued. Ugly ones. Many of them were made at my expense, and that got Mom and Mike riled up. Say what you want about Adrian, but God forbid you say anything nasty about me. Mom will straight up gut you. Mike had my back too. You would've been proud of them Dad.

  So things got animated. A few folks were yelling, and finally I’d had enough. People had been shouting over each other for like a half an hour, and the couple kids that were there were taken out
because the language had gotten ugly. Finally I’d had enough. As loud as I could, I just yelled out, “Who have you all dreamed of since this ended?”

  And everyone for whatever reason, shut the hell up. So I rolled with it.

  “Have you dreamt of anyone sitting in this room? Have you dreamt of doing any work with anyone here on campus? Have you dreamt of anyone you KNOW to be alive, since last June??

  Not one person spoke up.

  “How many of you have dreamt about people you left behind? How many dead family members regularly show up in your dreams? How many of you dream of your old houses, and doing things years ago, instead of dreams of the present, with those still here?”

  Everyone had that look like they sort of were starting to figure this out. I kept on running with it.

  “You ALL know the dead are sitting back up, and killing us. There is NOTHING normal about that. Not one thing natural, or normal. How much of a stretch is it really that we are only dreaming of the dead, and that Adrian and Blake are stuck somewhere between alive and dead, and Heaven and Hell? Come on people!” I was like, livid and shit by that point.

  Mom was tearing up. I don’t know if she was scared by me and my craziness, or proud, or what, but she was definitely crying.

  Then came the confessions. The first batch was obviously from the people who were supporting me, and my weird dream. But they were the majority, and they had a ton of details of their dreams that just piled on the evidence. It also made no sense to anyone why NONE of us had any dreams of the people that we lived with here at school. Hell, everyone could remember dreaming of new people they’d met before all this started, but no one could remember having a single dream about anyone they had met since June that was still alive.