50 feet away down at the produce section he was standing still with his cart, clearly in a moral dilemma. He looked at the checkout lines, ten people deep, then looked at the entrance to the store, wide open. She knew what he was thinking. 45 minutes in line to pay, or just walk out? He shook his head one last time, snagged what looked like three bunches of bananas, and headed out the sliding automatic doors. She laughed out loud once at his audacity, and went back to emptying her shopping cart. That seemed like a little bit of justice to her.
A minute or two creaked by in the checkout line. Incessant beeping coming from the barcode scanners in multiple overloaded lanes drowned everyone out. Even Stacey found herself standing quietly, zoning out, bagging her own groceries. Suddenly noise from outside slowed the beeping to a crawl. It was screaming. Several of the people near the exits walked over and looked out the doors and windows at whatever was unfolding in the parking lot. The witnesses stood in silent horror, several of them covering their slowly opening mouths with their hands. Stacey reassured Tommy she’d be right back and ran over to watch herself.
The man that had been hit by the minivan was sitting up in the parking lot. He was covered by an industrial blanket. One of the heavy kinds you’d use for moving. She couldn’t see his face, but the blanket was stained through in several spots with his blood. Dark red circles and splotches were all over the thick blanket. Circling his sitting form was the man from earlier. He had the giant shotgun from his cart aimed at the man. Stacey looked on in horror as he calmly kept it leveled at the victim of the car accident. No one knew what to do. She couldn’t imagine what was happening that would force the big man to shoot someone. He seemed so calm, and controlled earlier.
Just as her mind started to struggle with the idea that this stranger was pointing a shotgun at an injured man, the blanket fell away, revealing the smashed body of the victim. Everyone standing around beside her gasped in shock and horror at his appearance. His body was mangled beyond human comprehension. His torso was crushed so violently ribs were poking out of his side, ripping holes large enough for his innards to swell through. His mouth was crusted with bile and blood and his skin was ashen and pale. Something was clearly wrong with him. The young girl standing next to Stacey formed the sign of the cross and started praying fervently.
Stacey shook her head slowly, her mind refusing to make sense of what she was watching. The victim, now clearly dead in her mind, leaned over towards the large stranger and attempted to go at him. His annihilated legs failed him though, and he fell forwards, hitting his face on the pavement and spilling some of his guts out of his ragged stomach. Her attention turned to the big stranger with the shotgun. Her heart started racing in fear for him as the destroyed man on the ground started to lift himself and crawl at him.
The tattooed stranger pointed the shotgun at the head of the man on the ground, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shotgun going off was still loud enough to scare the people inside the store. All of the beeping at the checkouts came to a halt.
The head of the car accident victim exploded in a giant mist of reds and browns. There was a flurry of faint thunking noises as bits of his head hit the giant window of the grocery store. His headless body fell to the pavement backwards and began oozing blood and ichors onto the ground from the many openings in it. Stacey could see the tattooed man was hit in the legs by the gore given off from his shotgun blast, but he seemed no worse for the wear. She watched him take a deep breath, assess the situation around him, and calmly walk away. He got his cart, and walked towards the back of the parking lot until she couldn’t see him anymore.
Stacey’s mind was wiped clean. She stood there motionless for some time, watching the pieces of the dead man’s head slide down the window before her motherly sense realized she could hear Tommy sobbing from the seat in the cart. She snapped to and ran over to him. She lifted him up and held him close, whispering in his ear that everything would be alright, even though she wasn’t sure it would be.
*****
Stacey left the store out the same entrance she and Tommy had used to enter it. Fortunately it was the entrance the furthest away from the decapitated man. She was thankful for that, at least for Tommy’s sake. He was going to lose enough innocence today without getting a close look at the aftermath of the earlier shooting. As she pushed her overloaded cart up the parking lot row she made a largely vain attempt at distracting her son from the body on the ground. He was staring intently at the pool of blood the body had fallen in and no matter what she said, he wouldn’t look away. Eventually she just covered his eyes with her hand, and pushed the cart faster to her SUV.
She used her remote entry fob and had the back hatch opened before she even got there. As fast as she could she got the jugs of water out and in the back of the truck along with the bags of cans and other food. The bags were very heavy though, and when she finally finished she felt like she had lifted an entire house. Tommy was facing her the whole time mostly because of the way she positioned the cart, and she kept looking at him and seeing little elements of her husband’s face there. Little Sarah was her spitting image, and little Tommy looked just like his Dad David. Too cute. His face reminded her of her husband though, and that led to thoughts of how her father in law was dead now. Apparently shot by his own good friend by request, and with her husband’s permission. She still couldn’t understand what the hell was happening.
After all the groceries were stored away in the back of her truck she got Tommy secured in his car seat. The SUV thrummed to life when Stacey turned the key, and she backed out quickly. The mother and son got back onto Main Street and started towards the house. The Moore family, Stacey, David, Tommy and Sarah had a very nice colonial style home set in the hills just outside of town. By car it was normally a mere five minute drive. Today the five minutes would be much longer.
Stacey played a driving game with Tommy on the drive back. It was one they played often in the car.
“Okay Tommy, I spy with my little eye, something big and blue!” She laughed as she started the game.
Tommy leaned forward in his little car seat and scanned the traffic around them. Right next to them at the light was a big blue truck, “Is it the truck Mommy?” He pointed his stubby little finger against the car window right at the vehicle.
“You got it! YAY!” Stacey celebrated with her son. He clapped his hands and gave a look of supreme satisfaction. The mother and son continued their silly little game the rest of the way down Main Street, and the two miles on Dove Street. Then, as she slowed to take the right hand turn onto Hill Street where they lived, they were hit head-on by a gigantic pickup truck rounding the corner.
The massive pickup was speeding considerably coming into the turn. The driver, a middle aged man who had just left his girlfriend’s home in search of her was paying little to no attention to the road. Stacey and Tommy were ravaged by the impact. In her haste to get home the mother of two had left her seatbelt curled up in the side of the car, unused. Her small frame was crushed by the pressure of the steering wheel and airbag as the front of her vehicle collapsed in on itself. It took her many painful minutes to die. Ruptured organs and blood vessels slowly emptied into her stomach cavity, suffocating her. She couldn’t even manage to turn and check on her six year old son as she bled out. Finally her body went limp, and her face came to a rest against the steering wheel in front of her.
Little Tommy, strapped firmly in his seat was almost none the worse for wear. Knocked unconscious by the impact, he sat still, face down on his chest, oblivious to the death of his mother two feet in front of him.
The senseless driver of the off-road specialized truck did not escape unscathed. His vehicle was larger, and tougher, and took less damage in the crash, but his situation was not good at all. The truck’s lifted suspension was driven upwards at strange angles by the impact with the lower car driven by the mother. Something had given way and drove its way into the cab, crushing both of his legs against
the dash, pinning him firmly. He screamed in pain incessantly until he was hoarse.
The man sat there sweating profusely, beating his airbag down, lamenting his broken legs, searching around the scene of the wreck for help. After what seemed like an eternity he saw the woman driver, the idiot as he called her, finally come to in her car.
“Hey! Hey! Call for help, I’m all fucked up in here!” He yelled as loudly as he could. He smacked his hands repeatedly against the cracked windshield of his truck. The woman looked dazed, out of sorts, and was bleeding from cuts all over her face.
“Lady in here, over here you stupid bitch!” He winced in agony and smacked the windshield again. He had to close his eyes and shut out the pain for a bit. When he finally opened his eyes he saw the woman had pushed her car door open, and was dragging her feet, slowly walking over to his side of the truck. His hard breathing started to slow as he finally felt some form of rescue coming to help. He rested his head against the back window of the truck for a second, then gathered enough strength to put a shoulder to his door. It protested briefly, but eventually popped open with a shriek of bent metal. The hurt lady picked up the pace and came around the front of the car near the fender, and reached at his door.
The pinned driver finally looked up at her and saw her face, and her eyes. All her color was gone. Her teeth and gums were torn out and open, leaving a bloody pulp where her mouth should have been. Her eyes had gone milky, hazy, and she clearly was not in her right mind.
“Ahhh!” He screamed and tried to wrench the door away from her outstretched hand. It was too late though, she was around it and coming in the cab at him. He pushed as hard as he could, he even punched her as hard as he could multiple times through the pain of his destroyed legs, but no matter what he did, she kept coming back. The fought this struggle for what felt like an eternity to the driver, until eventually his punches stopped pushing her back, and she was on him, ripping, biting in a savage silence.
Even with her ripped apart face and mouth she bit at him and tore his flesh with success. The driver’s hoarse screams came to a gurgling end as his throat was torn apart by her jagged, broken teeth. He clawed at her, pushed her away, but his strength was gone. His fight was over.
Stacey’s undead body continued to tear bits of flesh away until he stopped moving. He twitched a few times and with a savage instinct she tore into his body again until it stopped moving again. Finally, after a somewhat sad, confused moment, Stacey’s undead body slowly turned away, and began to shamble down the street towards the house she had been heading towards while still alive.
Tommy, her beloved six year old son that looked just like his father, sat in his car seat, in the back of the wrecked SUV, still unconscious.
November 17th
I am the man with the plan. More accurately, I am the man, with a draft for the plan. I was going to put off starting the plan until another entry or two, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I think better when I’m talking to you Mr. Journal. Thus in this entry, I will lay down the basic ideas for how I plan on increasing the population here, and making amends for my greatest sin, leaving Cassie to an unknown fate. As I shared in my semi-drunken entry a few days ago, I think helping people will give me some closure, and give me purpose in life.
All philosophical mumbo-jumbo karma bullshit aside, I need to also figure out a way to do this without getting myself killed. Getting killed would totally defeat the purpose. Plus dying would suck ass.
Alrighty. So here are some bulleted thoughts that have formed the basic plan. These are still discussion points at this juncture; they aren’t necessarily set in stone. Bullet points first, followed by in depth explanations. Oh yeah, here’s one thing else: I’ve made the assumption that the best course of action is to stay here on campus, and use it as my “home.” All people wishing to receive my help will be moving here.
• I must secure the campus further.
• I have to get some wood stoves up here to alleviate the dependence on gasoline and fuel oil.
• Additional food and supplies must be procured *or* I need to wait until I can get a garden/farm up and running.
• I need to secure the outlying structures headed into town of zombies. (this also potentially satisfies the additional food clause)
• I need to ensure that my own home, Dorm E, is safe not only from zombies, but from human intruders.
• I need to establish a form of communication that will allow me to speak to and vet (read: spy on them) people before I actually meet them.
• And finally, I need to establish a set system of government/rules for when and if people come here.
That’s a lot to go over. Let’s share my thoughts on each point.
I must secure the campus further. What I really mean by this is finding a way to make the back end of the campus fortified. Granted, the school is very much like an island, but really it’s more of a peninsula. The bridge crosses onto the peninsula more near the tip, so the back end of the campus is still crossable on land. Now the river cuts the campus territory across that area, kinda forming the island, but there’s nothing stopping a wandering zombie from wading through the shallows and onto campus. It’s already happened several times. I’m thinking I build a sturdy rock wall, or maybe find lumber, and slap up some simple walls. I can get 2x4’s and screw them tree to tree, then attach plywood to that. That’s likely enough to hold off a few strays until spring when more sturdy fortifications can be built. I’m not looking for Fort Knox here. I am also wondering how I can make the bridge more fortified. The two vans I have parked in a staggered V formation are great, but it’s not perfect, and someone with a good sized truck could easily push them out of the way. Not sure on that solution just yet. I think a drawbridge is a little beyond my engineering capabilities.
This point also covers making more of the dorms secure. There are a lot of ground floor windows that are currently exposed, and a zombie walking on to campus could easily smash a window, and be inside in seconds. This increases the importance of finding a substantial amount of lumber for reinforcement purposes.
Wood stoves. Gotta get em. At least one for Hall E, or alternately for a Hall with no electricity. Understandably I can make it through at least one winter without a stove, but if I get people in here before or during winter, I don’t want them in Hall E with me, and they will need heat. I need to find at least one wood stove, preferably several. I think a good way to find them might be to cruise around the farmhouses up here and scour the places with chimney or stove pipes visible. Now getting a giant woodstove back here… that’s another problem I’ll have to deal with. I’ve got the trucks for it. I just don’t know if I can lift one all by myself. Plus I need to figure out exactly how to install one, which may require additional materials.
Food, supplies, and/or a garden. Ideally I’d like to get people up here before winter. However, it’s already the 17th of November, and we had spitting snow the other night. It won’t be long before the road out of here is impassable. Blessing and a curse really. Zombies won’t be able to get up here, scavengers like me won’t be able to either, but the downside is I can’t leave for shit either. One idea for that is to plow the road myself. There’s a plow attachment for the trucks down in the grounds keeping barn area for the trucks. But a plowed road is a pretty obvious sign of human life, and I think it’d be better to just plow the roads here on campus if I do that at all. I think there is a small plow somewhere for the ATV too.
Road situation aside, I need to get more food, and more supplies. I know there’s a lot of food inside all these houses up in the area. I found a bunch just in the little apartment above the gas station, and that was a home for just two little old people. Some of the houses up here are 2,500 square feet or better, and housed 3 to 5 people. Assuming even a few of these houses have full cupboards, I’m literally just miles away from months of food. Other than the food issue, I need to find additional consumables. Toilet paper, soap, dishwashing detergent, ammunition,
shoes, clothes, etc. More than anything else though, I need to find medicines, and books about how to use them. God forbid I get a cut, or an infection, or the flu. I have ZERO antibiotics, and I know fuck all about which ones to take for what.
I really don’t want to think about this, but I am pretty sure I will have to go back into town to hit one of the pharmacies. Ewww.
Soo… assuming I don’t get supplies, or I find out I need to wait for spring, then I should just wait to get seeds in the ground. If I do that, I think I am more or less prepared. It would be great if I had some fertilizer type stuff, which may require a trip to the garden center where I got the seeds “that day.” That also could be a shitstorm of a trip though. Oh, and despite the fact I am trying to be less reliant on gas, I need a lot more gas. I will need it, until I don’t need it. Does that make sense Mr. Journal?
Secure outlying houses/buildings of zombies. This ties directly into the finding supplies part. I really want to clean out all the houses within a mile or two of the dead inside or around them. If I can clean them out of zombies, get all their usable supplies, and then lock them down, it’ll mean there’s a drastically reduced chance of wandering zombies heading up the road to here. It will be dangerous. But you know what? So is crossing the road. Not so much because lately there’s a chance I’ll get hit by a car, but more likely that I’ll get mauled and eaten alive by a handful of the undead. It’s not like the good old days anymore kids. All we had to do then was walk to school in the snow, uphill, both ways.
Dark Recollections Page 18