Alone No More

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Alone No More Page 23

by Philbrook, Chris


  So I got clothing. And a few other items of neatness, like a cordless drill, a decent finishing saw, and a few skilsaw blades. Shrug. I guess it wasn’t a total waste.

  I decided I’d clear the house to the right of that one after. That was the house right directly next to Gilbert’s place, and I felt it was also likely to be empty. Plus I wanted to try and find something to show him for all my work. He was sort of against the whole house clearing idea anyway, and I wanted desperately to sell him on the idea with something badass.

  I didn’t tell him I was doing the second house, I just moved the Tundra over into the next driveway and honked like I normally do. I remember hearing him open his door, but I didn’t say anything to him. The second house was a ranch, and was smaller than the first place, so it went quickly.

  Not without some drama though. When I did the exterior walk around the back door was wide open. For security reasons I shut the door. The door entered the kitchen from a pretty nice back deck. I didn’t think anything of it, but that’s pretty typical of me right? Devil’s in the details as the saying goes.

  I saw nothing in the windows, and as Gilbert said, it looked empty. I entered via the front door, which I had to kick open. I hollered again in the doorway, but nothing answered. As I was clearing the front living room area, I heard a low growl, and damn near filled my drawers. I swung the shotgun around towards the kitchen, directly at the spot the back door was at, and standing there, backed up into the corner was a red fox. Not a big one, but it was the better part of my shin in height, just a few inches shorter than my knee.

  Standing behind the red fox were three pups. Fox babies. And I had shut their only means of exit. Luckily the front door was still open, and really fucking slowly I backed out that door, and went around to the back. When I got there, the mother red fox was still sort of protecting the pups, so I rapped on the back window in the door, and they all bolted. I could kinda see them go out the front door, so I ran around and watched them cross the cul de sac and disappear over the back of a small rise in one of the houses yards.

  Weird huh? I haven’t seen much of any wildlife, and to find wildlife in winter, just weird. More on how weird this is at the end. And this is gonna knock your sox clean fucking off Mr. Journal. Like.. flying away through the air knocked off.

  Anyway, once I got the mother and the pups out of the house it was cleared out safely and slowly. I was taking a lot of time to do it right. Rushing hurts my leg anyway, and there are only just a few houses left to clear, so there’s really no rush. This house was much more profitable.

  I found about 20 cans of food in the cupboards as well as some other long lasting food items. Uncooked pasta lasts a long ass time if dry, and these guys loved pasta. They also had about 8 jars of spaghetti sauce, which was pretty frigging clutch with all that pasta. They were frozen solid, but I think that’s a good thing. They also had a really nice supply of spices, and after my dinner date with Gilbert I can appreciate some of the different spices now. I had no idea I liked curry until he sprinkled some on the venison. These guys had a little thing of it, and that made me happy.

  As for other shit, it was pretty barren. No garage so there were no garage-ish items to be found anywhere. No worries I guess. They had a lot of clothing, which was good I guess, and they also had batteries. I’m not sure if they’re good still, but I grabbed them anyway. I vaguely recalled Gilbert saying he needed some anyway.

  I got out of the house and got everything into the truck. I carried over half the pasta and half of the jars of spaghetti to Gilbert’s place. I also grabbed half of the batteries I found.

  The old guy was fucking stoked for the spaghetti. I thought it was his turn to throw me down and make sweet love to me, but he restrained himself, and instead just tried to shake my hand until it almost fell off. Affectionately he told me I was “full of piss and vinegar.”

  Not sure what that means, but it seemed like it was good based on his facial expression at the time. I’m guessing it means I’m awesome or something. Yep, gonna roll with that.

  He opted to only take 2 boxes of spaghetti, and two jars of sauce. He said he didn’t need more than that, and I was more than happy to keep the difference. I told him about the spices I found and he seemed pretty happy with that haul as well. I offered some of them to him, and he said to keep them. He said the spices would be good to use, or good to trade. Makes sense. I remember spice trade being a big part of world history class. It stands to good reason that when people run out of canned shit to eat, they’re going to want spices for the food we kill or grow. That’s of course assuming that I find people willing to trade, instead of shooting my ass and taking my shit.

  Fucking people man I tell you!

  So that was yesterday. I got back in just after dark, and did a quick patrol in the Tundra around the campus. It was all clear. I stored all the clothing in Hall A. It’s just down the way from Hall E, and I don’t need to keep it warm or anything. If anyone breaks into there and steals the clothes, I probably won’t even get angry. Frankly I just need to make sure Hall E doesn’t get any more crowded than it is. It’s already full of shit I’ve brought here and I am running out of space. I am starting to feel like that crazy hoarder that lived on Jones Road. I keep everything I find lol. If I start keeping the tinfoil lids to yogurt containers I’m fucked. Speaking of yogurt... That sounds delicious. I am jonesing hardcore for dairy shit. I would beat some ass for ice cream.

  I was really tired yesterday after I got back in, and I crashed early. I had to take a handful of ibuprofen because my leg was sore as shit, but today when I woke up I felt good. I really think the positive attitude helps a lot. It might also be the larger meals I’ve started to eat. I wonder how much of my healing has been dictated by shitty diet? Incidentally, I made spaghetti for breakfast.

  Today after I ate my pisketty I went back to Gilbert’s cul de sac and started clearing more houses. I went up to his place and honked again to let him know I was in the area. He waved, and said he’d watch from his porch again. Nice fella that Mr. Donohue.

  On his cul de sac there are 5 houses, and then 2 houses on the road leading down to it. I already cleared two yesterday, and I don’t need to clear his, so that leaves four houses going into today remaining.

  The last two houses on his cul de sac are raised ranches. I got them both cleared out just as the sun went down. I won’t bore you with the mundane details, but both houses were empty of foxes, dogs, cats, (living or dead) living people, dead people, and those that are sort of in between living and dead that like to bite living people.

  I found a mediocre haul of food. Few cans of Chunky soup, some plain soups, more green beans and corn, a couple boxes of rice, a handful of granola bars, and a couple boxes of macaroni and cheese. Decent, but nothing to write home about.

  Stuff wise it was actually a pretty good haul. I found another 5 gallon gas tank, already filled with gas, and another really nice chainsaw. I don’t know what I need 2 chainsaws for, but if one breaks, or if someone needs one, I’ve got spare now. I also found an ass ton of paper goods. An 8 pack of paper towel, and a 16 pack of toilet paper, and it was the good stuff, so that was a score. No chapped ass for Adrian. The first house had a decently stocked liquor cabinet, and I took everything out of that in a suitcase. The second house also had a gigantic linen closet filled with all kinds of vitamin supplements. They also had a small indoor workout area that had a treadmill, elliptical machine, and a stationary bike. I’ve got that stuff in the gym already at the school, but again, it’s good to know it’s here if I need it.

  I swung by Gilbert’s place and we split the food right down the middle. He offered to let me keep all the food if I gave him all the liquor, and told him hell no. I’d split it, but frankly I was a little scared he’d drink himself to death with all the brandy I found. He seemed let down, but I told him to grow up, and he laughed. He did take all the damn brandy though. I guess that’s cool.

  So I got in at about dark again. Di
d yet another patrol in the Tundra and called it a night. Here I sit, talking to you Mr. Journal. Me and my buddy.

  I’m feeling positive today. Got some decent stuff the last couple days, I’ve got a new neighbor, the weather was mild today, and I saw that red fox.

  Oh shit yeah. Almost forgot to mention. Funny too, I’ve got the fucking wildlife book right in front of me here on the table.

  So out of curiosity when I got back earlier today I went over to the library and found a wildlife book so I could figure out what kind of fox I saw. It was some kind of red fox. I don’t recall the exact coloration, but from the pictures in the book, it was a red fox. According to said book the mother fox takes care of the young for about 3 weeks until they’re able to regulate their body temperature.

  Sounds good right? Nothing too weird so far.

  Here’s the mindfuck of the day: Red Foxes have their litters in Spring.

  It’s almost Christmas. That mother should not have pups. They are at least 3 months early according to this book. What does that mean? Did she just… randomly find a male in heat the same as her four or five months ahead of schedule? That seems really fucking unlikely.

  And why the sudden appearance of more animals now? Usually I see fewer animals during the winter, but now it seems like I’m seeing more of them? Maybe it’s just that I’m fucking loony and I have no idea what’s going on, and I’m making something out of nothing. I don’t know though. This has weird written all over it.

  It makes some sense to me that the animals would come near me here, because I’ve killed all the zombies, and destroyed a lot of the bodies that were left behind. Maybe they can sense the air is cleaner or safer here. Maybe I’m the pied piper of the apocalypse? Having all the animals follow my 12 gauge pipe as I go to and fro?

  This is cool, but at the same time, it doesn’t sit well with me. I feel like I’m missing something, some obvious piece of the puzzle that I should be seeing, but I’m not. That feeling drives me nuts.

  Anyway, I guess it’s moot to kill myself about it. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be. I’ll figure it out in good time I’m sure. Or I won’t, and I’ll have frustration for the remainder of my life on this burnt to shit world.

  Join me next time Mr. Journal, where our intrepid hero continues to clear houses of the undead, and prepares to set up his safe houses downtown, to hopefully draw new residents into his NerdCave!

  BAM! POW!

  -Adrian

  December 24th

  My life is filled with ups and downs. On one hand, things basically couldn’t be much worse for me. This is going to sound really stupid. This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. And I really mean that. Even though my life has fallen apart, the world has shit the bed, I’m missing the love of my life, and I have a stiff leg due to attack by land shark.

  I don’t know. I just feel really good about things today. I feel like things are finally turning the corner. I think it’s because of Gilbert. I’m living not only for myself, but for him as well. I’m invested you know? When I wake up I worry about something other than me. I enjoy seeing him and helping him out. There’s tangible reward when I give him something he needs, or we trade and both of us come out better after. It’s interaction without insanity in a world gone mad.

  I love it. I genuinely fucking love it.

  I’m missing Cassie kinda hardcore tonight. We always used to do our Christmas on xmas eve rather than xmas day. On Christmas day we’d drive all over creation to our family’s places to exchange gifts with them. We’d alternate which years we had dinner where, and despite all my bitching about spending Christmas driving in the car, I miss it today. I wish I had some gifts to give her.

  I’m not crying though. Maybe I’m out of tears, maybe I’ve gone numb, maybe I’m just happy with the way things are going and that’s outweighing my negative emotions. I’m rolling with it though. I feel good and it’s been a long time since I felt good about things. A really long time it seems.

  Let me recount the last couple days for you Mr. Journal, and you’ll see why I’m happy tonight. Actually I’m gonna put some Christmas music on first.

  Done. I found some Christmas cds in one of the houses I raided awhile back. Didn’t seem important at the time enough to mention in an entry as “hardcore loot” but I took em anyway. I didn’t have any Christmas music on my laptop, and I figured I might as well grab some.

  Yesterday I went back to the last two houses on Prospect. These were the two homes furthest from the cul de sac, and closest to the main road of Auburn Lake. Gilbert’s home was only barely visible down and around the slight bend of the loop. I didn’t tell him I was house clearing. My leg felt pretty awesome again yesterday, so I was feeling good to go. One house was on each side of the road, almost directly opposite one another. Both were flat ranches, and one had a huge shed behind it. I checked that one first, and it wound up being the only house I did yesterday.

  The house itself was empty of anything dangerous, but there was a dead guy in the tub. He had put a gun in his mouth and sent his brains out the back of his head. The gun itself was a Smith and Wesson .357 magnum revolver, which is pretty fucking nice. It’s far too heavy for casual use I think, but as a backup should I get low, it’ll do quite nicely. Later on during my house searching I found a locked gun box as well. He had the key in his pocket, and after breaking my back getting his keys out, the gun box had two packages of ammo, one full, the other half full or so. After counting it was 70 rounds of ammo, plus the 5 in the revolver. His car keys were on the ring as well, and they matched the big Chevy truck in the driveway. Major score.

  The rest of the inside of his house had meh stuff. He had some food, nothing remarkable in quality or quantity. He had a small collection of batteries, which was nice, and he had a good amount of hygiene and cleaning stuff. You could tell from the decorations this was a single man’s home too. Ugly pictures of deer and bears and stupid posters on the walls. No curtains, mismatched furniture, and he didn’t own any sweaters. That’s a dead giveaway. Women always make us get sweaters. WTF is up with that anyway? What’s wrong with a sweatshirt?

  So the house was a bust other than the pistol. However, the dude’s giant shed was a goldmine. Whoever this dude was, he had a fetish for woodwork. In various stages of done-ness in the shed were at least a dozen bookcases of really impressive quality. A few were waist height, a few head height. I immediately decided to take them back to the school for the books I’d accumulated so far. I figured at the very least the way I’m trying to hoard information for the future they’ll be handy later on.

  More to the point, this dude was a serious motherfucking woodworker, and he had raw stock out the butthole. I actually didn’t bother counting all of it, because there was too much of it. I had to make three trips back to campus with just the wood. I had an entire truck bed filled with 2x4s, then one with just 4x8 sheets of plywood, then another truck bed filled with other finer stuff for finish work. He had all different kinds of wood in all different kinds of raw sizes. That’s a major score for the fortification efforts for this spring.

  As you’d imagine, he also had the tools. I had another truck run back to campus just for his tools, and I still left his table saw. The fucking thing was ENORMOUS. Easily dwarfed the woodstove I still want to move back here. However, he had a few smaller ones as well as skilsaws, jigsaws, routers, a sawsall, and screws, nails, hammers, rasps, and even a lathe, but I left that there. It’s too heavy to move.

  I dragged all those loads straight to the gym and left it all in the gym lobby. We have a woodshop, but frankly, this shit is waaaay better than the crap we had. Turns out there aren’t many nerds interested in woodshop, hence the craptacular tools. Now if you need a chess board….

  This was a substantial find for me yesterday. The really surprising thing about yesterday was the fact that even after moving all that shit outside, and being uber paranoid about getting jumped as I did it, my leg felt pretty good this morning when I g
ot up. I mean sore still, but that’s to be expected. However, I was expecting like… a 7 out of 10 for pain, and only had a strong 5. Four ibuprofen later and I’m golden.

  After I got done moving all the shit back I went and split the food I found with Gilbert, and told him about the tools. He was happy for me, and I asked him if he could show me how best to work with them, and he said he’d be delighted. I’m thinking maybe instead of using the second generator I found to get the heat going in another hall, I might use it to power my new woodshop so I can get some fortifications going. I might do that in early January depending on how things go.

  I didn’t tell Gilbert about the gun I found, or the dead body. For some reason I kinda feel like the ammo is too important to tell him about. If he thinks I’m low, then he might be more likely to trade me his ammo out of sympathy, or for security reasons. Of course if he thinks I’m low, he might rake me over the coals. I dunno. Maybe that’s a mistake. I guess I can always tell him about it later. Though for some reason I really don’t want to LIE to him. Forget to tell him shit, sure, but a straight up lie seems really bad to me.

  Maybe it’s because deep down inside I don’t want the one relationship I have with the one human being that I know to have lies involved. I think the only way I can be a better person and feel better about all the shit I’ve done wrong is if really try to do things the right way. I don’t know. Wish I knew. No regrets about not revealing the gun though. I think I did the right thing on that.

  So today I opened up with a fat ass breakfast. I had some of the cereal I have still in the bag in the box with some of the dry milk I reconstituted. Yay fruity pebbles! Not filling though, so I had a can of pear slices, and then a granola bar. It feels good to be stuffed. I can’t recall many days since June when I felt that way.

 

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