Rise
Page 5
We spent most of today slowly driving up the highway. We stopped to drain the tanks on a few vehicles, but kept going. As I type this we are still driving, ever north, but slowly. We stop often to stretch, but we are very careful. We pass houses often, but the dead seem to congregate at them, so we don't stop. Abandoned vehicles, sometimes with telltale bloodstains, get a more thorough look. We have managed to keep the tanks on both vehicles above half. I don't know where we are going to stop tonight.
July 7th, near Quesnel
Sarah and I had a long private talk yesterday about our family. We went off a little ways from the others and sat pitching stones into a river from a bridge right by where we had stopped for some lunch. We both realise that our parents are surely dead, along with the uncles and aunts, cousins, and assorted others back east. Luckily we have no other siblings. Sarah had been considering going to look for Mom and Dad, but thought going east again would be suicide, since the number of undead on the prairies would be a lot higher than here in the mountains. So we are going to stick with the plan of getting up past Prince George and see where we can find a safe place to stop.
I have been wondering how we are going to survive this coming winter. It's tempting to maybe head through the mountains all the way to the coast and find a small island to grow food on. That should be safe enough, a landmass surrounded by ocean. Maybe there are islands with survivors on them. Certainly the coast temperatures will be more moderate than here in the mountains. The only trouble will be surviving the trip.
July 10th, near Prince George
It was worse than Kamloops. It had been raining for a day and a half when we got to the outskirts of the city, and the roads were in bad shape. Water was everywhere, and with no maintenance crews ever again I can't imagine the roads will survive the coming winter very well. The closer we got to Pr. George the more cars we found wrecked or abandoned. One section of highway was almost clogged with a large accident scene. A truck had jackknifed on a bridge, and several cars were crushed and pinned. There were still people in the cars where they had died, but they were not still moving, and there was nothing we could do for them, so we kept going. We have managed to siphon enough gas to have both tanks full and the spare gas cans full as well. The city had about 72,000 people before all this started, so I cannot even imagine what kind of hell it is now.
We approached from the south along Highway 97. Low mountains and hills were all around, but the road was generally pretty flat. With the rain, visibility was low. I was leading in the Rav4; Sarah was driving the Odyssey behind me. This time Jess and Michael were in the Rav4 with me, and Darren was in the van. We switch around. We passed a turnoff for Pineview, and turned a bit more northwest, and it was a bit farther on that we stopped and looked down onto what remained of Prince George. We parked on a ridge, and below us we could see the Fraser River that runs all through BC to the sea at Vancouver. From here we could see that a lot of Prince George had burned too. More than Kamloops. There were a lot of burned buildings, and across the river was a huge burned swath of destruction. With no living fire crews, this must have raged unchecked for a long time. Darren spotted movement on the road below the ridge, and we looked down to see someone walking along the roadway. Jessica looked down with her rifle scope, and reported that it was a walking corpse of a man, badly decomposed. We spotted more of them after that, mostly alone, but some in groups. I had found a pair of binoculars in a truck a day ago, and used those to look at the city, hoping to see signs of survivors or if the road through the city was clear enough to use. There was no obvious way through on the roads I could see. Most were blocked either by large accidents, fallen buildings, or large walking clusters of undead.
We regrouped at the vehicles, and with all of us having an eye out for straggling zombies we discussed what to do. Neither Sarah nor Darren had any interest in going into that wasteland of a city, and suggested we find a way around it. Jess said we needed food pretty soon, and suggested we go back and take the turn to Pineview and see if we could find some supplies there. My suggestion, which I finally aired after thinking about it for days and days now, was that we resupply and take the road to the coast, find an island, and wait this all out. We decided to return to the turnoff for Pineview after some debate.
July 11
Darren has food poisoning. Yesterday we stopped at a house we saw through the trees, just off the road to Pineview, a two-story farmhouse with a few trucks parked in the driveway, a fenced area for horses or cattle, and a barn behind the house. We all got out of the vehicles, except Michael, and quietly listened for a good five minutes before we approached the house. We saw no zombies anywhere in sight, but that means nothing. There could be a dozen inside the barn or house for all we know. Jessica stayed near the van with her rifle, and Darren and Sarah and I approached. I had the Glock, Sarah had the .22, and Darren had the baseball bat. The trucks were locked, and judging by the thick dust covering them, looked like they hadn't moved in a while. They looked like well used farm trucks, both Fords. I glanced inside one on the way past, and saw a few CD's on the dash, a pair of leather gloves on the seat, but nothing else.
The windows on the house were intact except for one which was broken all over the porch. Whatever broke that window did it from the inside. We all stepped up by the door and listened again for a few minutes. Darren knocked, and after a minute more we tried the door, and it was unlocked. I pushed it open and looked inside. The smell of rot wafted out, and I nearly gagged. I pulled the shirt I was wearing up over my nose and walked in, Sarah right behind me. She told Darren to stay there and watch the area, and he seemed happy to do that. There was a hall ahead of me, a kitchen and dining area to the right, and a stairwell left. I turned right and took a step into the kitchen, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a cat ran up and meowed loudly at me. Sarah was just as surprised as I was, and after we calmed down again we had a chuckle. The cat didn't look underfed, so I assumed it would be okay for a few minutes while we cleared the house. In another five minutes we knew we were alone here. I found the source of the smell in the backdoor porch. There was a dead dog there, locked in between the door to the house and the door outside, a collie by the look of it. It had starved to death, and there were scratch marks on the walls and doors where the poor thing had tried to get out. We found a huge bag of cat food torn open at the base and spilled all over the floor, so that’s why the cat looked well fed. There was water in several large buckets, though it was all stale by now. The cat followed us around meowing until Sarah picked it up and stroked it. It had a collar, but no tags.
Upstairs we found some useful things. There was a large gun case in the hall, and we could see two rifles and a shotgun inside. They were locked up, so we'd need to find the keys to the locks before we could use them. Also there were two large bedrooms and a bathroom. I turned a tap, but nothing came out. I called down to Darren to come inside, and we all looked around for food. We found a pantry full of preserves and canned goods just off the kitchen, but the contents of the refrigerator were all bad. Sarah was looking out the back window as we searched, and saw something interesting, an old-fashioned hand water pump. I went back out front to tell Jess what we had found, and I guess it was then that Darren opened a jar of preserved eggs and ate one or two. Anyways I told Jess to drive the van around back by the water pump, and we met the others there. We were all pretty happy when Darren pumped it, and within a few seconds fresh cold water was spilling out onto the ground. We were all standing there grinning like fools when the zombies came out of the barn.
There were three of them, a middle-aged man and woman, and a teenaged girl. The man was missing his left arm and part of his neck, the woman looked like she had at least a dozen bites out of her arms and torso, and the girl was mostly intact, I couldn't see any injuries on her. They were all moaning and advancing on us, and I had the Glock up and aimed really fast. I didn't even get the chance to shoot before I heard a shot, and the male zombie fell with most of the top of hi
s head missing. I switched targets and shot the woman in the face twice at about ten feet, and she dropped. The girl was a little faster than I expected though, and before Jess or Sarah could take her down she had grabbed onto my arm and was trying to bite me. She was ice cold and clammy, and her skin actually peeled off her hands as she tried to grip tighter. The others backed off and I dropped and rolled backwards. The girl fell on top of me, but wasn't able to maintain a grip as I rolled away. I rolled about three more feet and turned over to aim the Glock when two shots went off, Jess and Sarah both shooting at her. The girl's body flopped for a second then lay still. I got up and grabbed a handful of grass and used it to wipe the girls’ skin off my arm as fast as I could, then went over and pumped some water so I could wash.
Darren said that he thought the shots were really loud, and that any zombie nearby that heard them was now on its way here. We all agreed. Damnit! This had turned from a potential place to stay for a day or so into a smash-and-grab. We all headed inside except Michael and Jess, and we grabbed all the food we could find that wasn't rotten. The cat came to us again, and followed us around while we grabbed pillowcases or bags, whatever we could find, and threw cans and jars into them. Then Sarah remembered the guns upstairs and started looking for keys. She didn't find any, so we just smashed the glass on the case and took the weapons out with the locks still in place. There was ammunition as well, and I grabbed everything I could see. On the way out I stopped in the bathroom and checked what might be useful there. I took a 12-pack of toilet paper, three new bars of soap, a new tube of toothpaste, and an unopened pack of razors. I know I needed a shave, and the soap would be useful too. We were all filthy.
We all got back in the vehicles and backed out of the yard. We now had food, more ammo and guns, and some other supplies. As we left I saw the cat come out onto the porch and start to follow us. I braked hard, got out and ran back. I ducked inside and grabbed a garbage bag from the pantry, dumped the cat food bag into it, and then grabbed the cat on the way back out. I ran to the Rav4 and tossed the cat into the back with the food, and then drove away. I would be damned if I was going to leave anything alive behind for those things, even a cat! As we got onto the main road Sarah said she could see several walking dead approaching across the field, and several more from another direction. We turned back south and headed for the highway.
Darren apparently started complaining about an upset stomach soon after that. Jess had to stop and let him out to throw up. He got back in and was pale and hot, and when we stopped last night inside a chain link fenced area around a hydro maintenance shack he was still throwing up and feverish. Sarah diagnosed food poisoning, and we stayed put to give him a chance to rest.
We've found out the guns are a 12 Gauge Winchester Defender pump-action with a pistol grip, a 30-.06 lever-action hunting rifle that holds about 5 rounds, and some paramilitary .223 carbine that Jess got really hot and bothered over. There were also 75 shells for the shotgun, 250 for the rifle, but only about 175 rounds for the carbine. None of these match her own rifle's ammo, but she still has just under 480 rounds left there. The happy thing is that we all have a firearm now, plus spares. And now we are all but Darren going to have a supper of cold canned soup, crackers, and preserved peaches (we threw out the pickled eggs). There is a hint of smoke in the air, so I suppose a forest fire is burning someplace to the west. It's also a little cool, so we have all put on sweaters. Michael wants to call the cat Sparkle because of his collar, and seems really happy to see it. Jess says that they had a cat before all this started, but it got out and never came back.
We'll stay here until Darren feels better. We are surrounded by a fence, and trees outside that. The bugs aren't too bad, and the temperature is tolerable. We only need hot water for a shower. We'll have to find some way to heat water so I can shave, as the thought of dry-shaving gives me chills. My watch says it is 3:35 now, and it's quiet here. Almost peaceful. If I didn't know what the world out there was like now, I would think I was camping.
July 12
Darren is feeling a little better. He's hydrated, fed, and sleeping. Sarah has been keeping a close eye on him, since we have very limited medical supplies. We haven't moved from this spot by the hydro station, and probably won't until tomorrow. We haven't seen any walking dead here, so we feel pretty good. Can't really even smell them. We are going to try to scavenge for a portable stove so we can heat up food if we can find a propane source, or a camp fuel supply. Burning wood in a fire pit will create too much light and smoke to be worth the risk.
July 16
We left the hydro station two days ago. Jess had turned on the radio Tuesday evening just to check, not expecting to hear anything, and we got a signal. Someone was broadcasting on the local station, 94Xfm. When we tuned in there was a song playing by the Smashing Pumpkins. We all gathered around in shock and listened. Three more songs played, and then a DJ came on. He sounded tired, but cheerful as he reported the weather (smoky, hot, with a chance of rain), the sports (none to speak of), and the news (the world has been overrun with the walking dead). Throughout his broadcast he exhibited a sarcastic humour as he related tales of the world as it was now. He paused to play some more music, and we listened again to see if he would come back on. He did, and talked for a while this time. I think he might have thought that nobody was left to hear him, and he rambled and talked about whatever entered his mind. He never mentioned who he was or where he was transmitting from, but we talked about it and decided he must be near a tower. There was a radio tower in Prince George; I remembered seeing it in the distance.
We listened for a few hours, and he finally mentioned his name. He was DJ Dave, broadcasting live from the downtown offices of 94X FM. He said he was the only one left in the building, except for the several dozen undead in the street outside. He then shut off the signal, saying he was going to bed, and would be back in the morning.
We all thought about it, and decided to listen for another day, then see if we could get to a point where we might be able to signal him somehow. Flashing lights? We didn't have a transmitter, or a working phone. We discussed where he was getting power from, since an FM radio transmitter draws a lot. There's a river through here, so maybe hydro power? We hadn't looked at the city at night, so we didn't know if there were street lights on or not.
So we stayed and listened, and heard him come on again at about 9:15. He described his breakfast, his lack of company, and his dreams, then played some music. He went on this rambling way for some time. Finally he reported more weather (hot, overcast, rain looming in the west) and signed off for lunch. When he came back it was with something called "The Dead Report", in which he pretended to interview formerly alive residents of the city, calling them "Mister Reanimated Corpse" or "Miss Walking Dead Girl". All the imaginary zombie replies to questions were groans or gargling. It was actually quite funny until we thought about it too much, and then it was pretty depressing. He stopped it after a while, played some more music, and when he came back on he sounded pretty down.
We had all decided we were going to try to contact him by then, and rescue him if we could. DJ Dave didn't deserve to be left alone to die, and we were determined to try to get him out.
So we moved the vehicles towards Prince George, and stopped where we had been before. We got out after checking the area carefully, and Jess and I went to the edge of the precipice to see what we could see. She set up the scope on her rifle and I scanned the downtown area with the binoculars, hoping to see an intact building with a crowd of undead nearby. In about 10 minutes I found it. It was near the river, about 200 meters from the water, and across the rail tracks. I could see a crowd of about 60 or so zombies milling around, some walking back and forth, some beating fists on the walls of the building. I pointed it out to Jess and she trained the rifle scope on the spot. Her magnification was very much more than mine was, so she could see clearly what I could only guess at. She thought it was more likely about 50 undead, and thought we could probably
get to the building easily if we approached from the water.
July 17
After several hours of looking and talking we formulated a plan. We moved the vehicles to a place farther towards the city center, still up the highway from the urban areas, but close enough that we could get a good look at the terrain and the streets. We saw only a few walking dead initially, and they were easy to avoid. We ended up parking both vehicles in empty bays of a service garage on the outskirts, and no undead were within sight. We closed the doors to the bays as quietly as we could and waited for several hours. It started to rain, and the noise of the rain on the roof covered any noise we made inside.