When we arrived near Lenny’s farm though, it didn’t take long for us to realize something horrible had happened there. Lenny’s farm is long. The land runs along a road on the outskirts of town dad. We’ve driven by it at least ten times over the years. On the right side of the property is the long chicken building, and a field, and in the middle is the barn and farmhouse, and on the left are the hay fields, and gardens. In the back is the pasture for the cows that are now all at school.
The farm buildings are all set back from the road about… I dunno, the length of our property was wide at the house. Maybe the length of like, two school buses or so. A good distance off the road. When we turned down the road the farm was on, and drove down past all that fence running along the road to the gate Lenny had at the road’s edge, all we could see was the slow, shambling mass of undead milling about in his yard, and banging on the doors and windows.
I was in the passenger seat of the ambulance with Ollie driving, and he just came to a stop. Everyone behind us stopped as well, and we just sat there. Ollie’s hands were tight enough on the steering wheel that they went white, and you know I’m awful at the whole emotional thing Dad, so I kind of awkwardly leaned over and patted his hand. He smiled at me like his dog had just died and a little girl handed him a lollipop expecting that to be enough to undo the pain. I guess that’s a pretty apt summation of it.
Mike came over the radio right after that, and we made a plan. Make loud noises with guns from where we were, and draw them away from the house. Oh and Lenny never responded to our radio calls, so we had no better idea.
I climbed up on the roof of the ambulance with that .270 I was talking about after Ollie backed us up to the end of the road. We were still plenty close to the zeds for me to hit them consistently, especially with that nice scope. I laid down on the roof of the ambulance started shooting, and everyone else started after I did. It was a huge bloodbath. Dead bodies everywhere. Well, fully dead bodies everywhere. The ones that stay still.
Ollie and I were far enough out that we never had to move the ambulance but the others in the humvees had to back up several times to give them room so as not to get overwhelmed by the dead folks. Like we’ve done over and over and over once the dead had been trimmed down good, we switched over to blunt objects, and finished the remainders off to try and save ammo. I can’t say I am liking the amount of bullets we are using lately. It seems like we’re walking into situations over and over and over where we just pull our triggers until we’re blue in the face. Or purple in the shoulder. As it turns out Dad shooting a .270 for the better part of an hour leaves one HECK of a bruise. No heavy lifting for me for a few days. Better now obviously, but still crap.
After the undead outside the farm were put down, we slowly moved onto the property, and began to yell into the house. Let’s put it this way before I forget: the fences that managed to keep the cows in, couldn’t keep all the zeds out. Many of the wooden beams and wires were broken or knocked over, and the metal swinging gate was busted free too. There were so many zeds, Dad. It was such a bad scene.
We heard some frantic yelling from inside the home, and William and Wendy came running out of the back entrance off the porch that faced the woods and the small pasture. I remember hearing the story of how Gilbert and Adrian met Lenny and Mike for the first time on that porch. Seemed strange to watch our people come running out of it like madmen so long after that. I dunno, weird Dad, just weird.
They had been overrun since the day before around dinner time. I guess the zeds just showed up like a tidal wave right after dark, and they couldn’t deal with the numbers. Lenny and the others used their guns as best they could, but there were just too many. They wound up falling back into the house, and barricading themselves in the basement, which was pretty fortified. Lenny kept his guns down there, and the door was sturdy.
Speaking of Lenny… Lenny was bitten in the rush to get downstairs. A few of the zeds had busted windows and gotten inside, and as they were trying to get into the basement, Lenny was bitten on the arm. It wasn’t a bad bite, but as we know, any bite from a zed is a death sentence. You remember how weird the bites were though? Some people lived for just minutes, others hours, and some days before the bite became infected, or lethal, or whatever you want to call it.
Rachel and Kylie were bitten at the same time, with the same kind of superficial wounds, and both of them went down for the count within a few hours. Lenny was still kicking when we got there, and even managed to keep this wits about him enough to plug the two of them when it needed to be done, then ask Will and Wendy to tie him up so he couldn’t bite them if he turned.
He was still very much alive, and very much tied up when we got there. Only Ollie and Mike went down into the basement to see him. From what Mike said yesterday, all shaken up, Lenny looked really bad. He was gray, and sweating, and his eyes were turning that creepy white color, but he held on until he could say goodbye to his son, and wish his nearly arrived grandchild well wishes. I guess he and Ollie sat there talking for maybe ten minutes while the rest of us either pulled security, or searched the house and barns for danger. I was in the kitchen when Ollie came back up, his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. Ollie made it to the kitchen table and collapsed into the heavy chair, sobbing.
I went to him. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do, but I stood with him, my hand on his shoulders, and we were quiet until the gunshot came up the stairs from the basement. Mike did what needed to be done. Ollie stopped crying immediately, wiped his eyes clear, took a deep breath, and walked out the door. Mike came back up and just looked at me with red, tear filled eyes and walked out after Ollie. Mike’s eyes were so filled with pain Dad. I can’t even explain it. Those three went through a lot together when Westfield was just Westfield.
I can watch a movie with sadness, death, destruction, and I feel zilch. I get the emotion they are conveying, I am just never moved by it. I can watch my girlfriends cry and cry, and I don’t crack. I just stay strong, and be the person who listens. But seeing him cry like that, right after Ollie had lost it, sent me into a tailspin. Watching such strong men, such strong friends of mine deal with such amazingly close and powerful loss hit me like a train. It probably didn’t help that I liked Lenny too. I sat down in Ollie’s chair and had myself a real good cry. Biggest cry since Gavin died and Adrian walked in on me in his room.
When I got my shit back together, I went out and helped everyone get everything ready. Ollie and Mike said the farm was to be abandoned. Everything had been relocated to school, and with the snow spitting at night already, there was little the land could offer us that required us to be there for. We all cleaned the place out of things that were usable, and things that Ollie wanted, and within eight hours, we were gone. I left with Ollie in the ambulance and after we left the rest of the folks took the bodies out and burnt them in one of the small sheds. It served as a… what’d Adrian call them? Oh yeah. It served as a good pyre.
Sad stuff. We got back late that night, the… 4th I think. Yesterday we spent here on campus patrolling the walls a LOT more diligently, and posting two guards on the gate because if we don’t, the incoming zeds stack up too fast. We’ve had the fires burning out at staff housing for days now, keeping the bodies off the bridge, and this is getting silly. We are opening the gate every three or four hours during daylight to remove the bodies so we have a clear means of escape, and the zeds keep coming. We’re now thinking about posting advanced shooting people down the road so we can thin them out away from school.
We’re also all worried about the living people who attacked the tower the other day. Hector and Angela said there were no signs of anyone moving anywhere near them since that day, but who knows when and if they’ll be back. Mike says he hopes they got their noses bloodied enough to stay the hell away, and I hope that’s the case. I’m really hoping that is the case. It’d be nice if they took their shot, failed, and then disappeared into oblivion.
If there’s a
wish fairy out there, now would be the OPTIMUM TIME to pay attention to us.
Speaking of wishes, Adrian is still down and out, though stable. One thing I am worried about is Mallory. She’s not spending nearly as much time near him as she was before, and I am wondering why. I get that it is boring, but you’d think with the man in her life on his “deathbed” she’d want to be near him all the time. I guess it might be that she’s out doing stuff to keep busy and keep her mind off things, but I dunno. I got a weird feeling about it. I might talk to her in a day or two to see what’s up.
Speaking of our intrepid first author here, Adrian is a big fan of video games that aren’t violent. He loves stuff like Mario Brothers, and Tetris, and Prince of Persia. He claims it is because he has so much violence in his day to day life, but if you saw his face when he played Tetris, it’s clearly because he is a simpleton.
I have more I can write about yesterday, but I volunteered to take the early morning shift on the gate, and there’s always a huge pile of bodies they’ve bludgeoned to death overnight now, and I’ve been at this for two hours already. I need to crash. Love you Dad.
Abby
November 8th
I have a headache. It is sitting right below my eyes like I’ve got a pair of knitting needles pressing against my cheekbones. It hurts so bad, and I’ve already taken some Tylenol, and it hasn’t done anything at all for the pain.
Having taken a large amount of medication already, I am leaning towards the idea that this headache might be caused by stress, and worry, and fear. Dad don’t worry, it won’t kill me. It might drive me up a wall before the night is out, but I will be alive up that wall, complaining about things going on in the world. Or more accurately, complaining about things going on here at school.
And let me tell you Dad, there are a lot of things still going on here. Whoever came up with the saying “no rest for the wicked” had that crap on lock down. They knew what was up. I’m saying we’re wicked as well. We are clearly not the kind of people that should make it to heaven, if heaven even exists anymore.
Gavin’s tower was attacked again, though it was a half hearted attack by a group of people smaller than the first time. Hector and Angela saw them coming because they’ve been posting much more attentive guard, and as soon as Angela recognized the car from the first attack, she started shooting. Angela is a damn good shot, and I guess within a minute or two of her putting bullets into the windshield of the first car coming their way, they stopped, bailed out of the car bleeding, and left in the second car they brought.
Angela said she saw two men get up and leave in the rear car. About five minutes after they left, she saw two more men get out of the first car too, but they were dead, and she had to shoot them in the head. I guess her first few shots weren’t head shots. Can’t all be winners.
Unlike last time Hector radioed us to let us know they were under attack, and we all got ready to go to their aid if things got even slightly hairy. We would’ve had to kill a few undead at the gate to get out, but it could’ve been achieved fairly quickly if push came to shove. We weren’t about to wait a moment longer than we needed to if they needed help.
No one has any good theories on who the hell these random jerks are. If they were locals, I’d imagine we would have come across them before now. We’re also not sure how they found the tower, and decided to attack it. We’ve got tons of theories, but no proof or evidence for anything. I’m wondering if they simply saw the lights on the top floor some night, and were desperate enough to make a run at it. Food is certainly getting short out there, and with the cold weather coming in hard right now, I’d imagine a lot of people are in the whole “oh sweet Britney Spears, what do I do?” I’m really scared to think of other reasons why a small group of survivors would suddenly make a big rush at us.
Desperation is a scary thing. It’ll make people do a lot of things they wouldn’t otherwise.
It’s been quiet since then down there. Not as quiet here, though for different reasons.
Lindsey has been going loopy since yesterday after the tower attack, which was right before dinner. We were sitting at the dinner table in Hall B, where I’ve been eating lately, and Melissa gets this funny face like she’s choking on something. Since Ollie’s Dad died Ollie has been sort of out of it, staring off into space, but when he looked over at her, he immediately turned to her and put his hand on her huge ass belly. Somehow he knew.
It was Melissa’s first contraction. I guess that’s the sign she’s about to pop. She’s had a couple more since then, but they’ve been spaced out over large blocks of hours, which I also guess is normal. Having never been knocked up before, I can’t attest to the accuracy of Lindsey’s pregnancy assertions, but I’d wager she’s more educated than I am. Doesn’t take much to know more than someone who doesn’t know anything.
Melissa took it all in stride, as did Ollie. I’m starting to think Ollie’s time as a farm boy will be a huge asset when his woman gives birth. I’m betting Ollie has been around more than one birthing, and as different as a calf being born might seem, I’m wager that he has some pretty applicable skills. Like not freaking out, for one. Lindsey is laying eggs wherever she goes over this.
I do believe, verily so, that she’s also super worried about Adrian. He’s still pretty much unchanged, smiles now and then and all, and that if something happens to him while we’re doing Melissa’s labor, she’s probably worried we’ll lose something, or someone. Not sure though, that’s me just speculating.
Some of the kids here at school have started to argue and fight a lot, and it has taken one or two adults out of the work schedule to keep a better eye on them. We’re doing the best we can to keep them sort of out of the loop on the danger we seem to be in, but there are conversations happening everywhere, and it’s not like they haven’t seen us carry loads of bodies to the back of campus to staff housing lately. They aren’t stupid, and I’m sure the stress of this is getting to them.
It’s scary to watch a kid freak out. I’m starting to see and feel how you and Mom were when Randy threw one of his tantrums when he was pissed at something or someone. It’s hard to watch a kid struggle with life, especially when you want so badly for them to be happy, and successful. You want them to feel safe, and protected, and loved, and sometimes when you can’t give that to them, it’s heartbreaking. Tough stuff. I need to give you and Mom far more credit.
What else? Oh yeah. The big one. So remember how I said I was talking about how Mallory had been different lately? How she’d been spending less and less time by Adrian’s side, and out and about doing stuff. Despite being a bit of a social outcast, I’m super nosy, and frequently I can’t stay out of interesting business, so this morning when she was making a small breakfast for herself downstairs here in Hall E, I turned to her and just asked her how she was doing.
She thought about it, and said she was okay. I called her bluff and said I thought she might be doing sort of crappy, and I was wondering how she felt about Adrian, and if it was getting to her and all that. I actually said a lot more than that, but I really don’t feel like writing it all down because I’m tired, and most of what I’d write is girl talk. You know, the kind of meaningless banter you exchange while you’re warming the conversation up for the good stuff. There might be a few feelings involved too. You heard Mom and I exchange quite a bit of it I’d imagine Dad. It's a girl thing.
Needless to say after my "skilled" manipulation, we sat down for some scrambled eggs and pancakes and some of our dwindling supply of orange juice, and she shared something that I found a little surprising. Well, she didn’t share so much as she talked and thought out loud and I listened.
She isn’t sure she loves Adrian. In fact, after listening to her, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. She also doesn’t want to sit here trying to be the good girlfriend to make his family feel better knowing that soon after he wakes up, she’ll probably be wanting to talk to him about ending their relationship. The sex is good, and he’s a go
od guy, but he’s intense, and busy, and we all know that he will be putting himself into harm’s way on a regular basis, and that’s a LOT to have on your plate. I know I struggled with the danger Gavin put himself in, and he had NOTHING on what Adrian does on a regular basis. Mallory’s stress must be crazy.
Add in the whole “dreaming of the dead” and “possible savior of mankind” and “target of pure evil” stuff, and the guy is practically undateable. Granted, he’s good looking, smart, in great shape, loyal, funny, and one of the few men left in the world (biggest selling point for him frankly), but that’s a lot of baggage to carry despite all the good things he puts on the table.
I can’t blame her. God help me Dad for kind of agreeing with her, but I can see where she is coming from. She’s cool, and I think they are a decent enough couple, but I think being with him scares her, and keeps her awake late. I mean hell Dad, when he’s not out there killing and almost being killed, he sits on this damn laptop writing for hours and hours updating it on our activities regularly. It’s a strange life to lead being his woman.
I didn’t have good advice for her. I stuck by Gavin, and dealt with it, and it got me a dead boyfriend, and more heartbreak than I can describe. She can’t put her foot down to Adrian though. She can’t say; choose me. He is quite literally a man on a mission, and I know if she gives him an ultimatum, she’ll be the one that gets the door, not doing what he does for all of us. He will almost always look at the greater good. He’s consistent like that.
I think when we left the conversation off this morning she was trying to figure out if it would be better to “dump” him while he was still out, and talk to his family about it, or just wait until he wakes up and tell him in person.
The choice could be very important in the long run. We’ll see I guess.
A team of folks is headed to the gas stations in the next day or so to see if we can put together what happened with the explosions. I’m betting it was the people who attacked the towers.
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 7): The Trinity Page 22