Jim walked up and watched with me for a minute and then said, “Didn’t think you even liked the little tyke.”
“I don’t.” I replied.
He stood next to me for another minute and then grunted, “Uh, huh. I can see that.”
I started to protest, but got disgusted and walked off. I could hear Jim chuckling behind me.
For the rest of the day, we lounged around and reorganized our supplies. During her watch shift, Marion spotted two undead wandering aimlessly up a service road a mile to the east of us, but they didn’t come near us so we left them alone. I think we all felt vulnerable and nervous after that.
Last night we drove north up the 5 all the way to the base of the Shasta mountain range.
The temperature dropped below freezing and it began to snow. We found a ranch house set back in the trees and away from the highway. We stayed in our vehicles until this morning. I didn’t want to have to try to clear the house in the dark. It turns out that the house is empty and fairly well preserved. There is a wood stove in the living room and we didn’t waste any time firing it up.
Cody didn’t have a chance to bring anything with him and was huddled up in my leather jacket until Albert found some boys clothes in one of the closets. While we were rooting around the house, Marion came across a video camera lying on the kitchen table with a post-it note on it that read; “play me”.
We put the kids in the other room and tried to turn the camera on. Of course, the battery was dead. We found the car charger for it and let it sit in the Land Rover for a while.
What we finally saw on it was depressing. A man named Dwain Harding introduced himself and told us that he was all that was left of his family. He explained that his youngest daughter had turned somehow and infected his wife and other daughter.
He and his twelve-year-old son had to put them down. He and his boy survived another month until his son was attacked and eaten by his infected neighbors. He had taken care of the undead and then buried his son with the rest of his family out behind the barn.
Dwain didn’t look so hot. He explained that he had been bitten and didn’t know how long he had. He said that he had dug a plot for himself and hoped that he had the courage enough to do what was necessary before he became “one of them.”
He asked us to be cautious in case he hadn’t been able to end his own misery, and then asked if we would cover his grave up if we found his body there. We immediately searched the house again and then locked everyone in the back room while Jim and I checked the grounds.
We went out behind the barn and found the family plot and open grave. I eased forward slowly, my weapon at the ready, and peered down into the pit, expecting it to be empty. I had a sick feeling in my stomach that we were going to have to hunt Dwain down. What I saw was truly sad. There at the bottom lay Dwain Harding’s corpse, a bullet hole through the top of his head.
The body had been chewed up and gnawed on by animals, and frozen by the elements. Jim stood guard while I shoveled dirt, filling the grave and finally putting Dwain to rest. Neither of us spoke afterwards. We just stood there in the cold, listening to the silence. Finally, we went back to the house. Alison was relieved to see me and asked what happened. When I told her she just nodded and walked away.
There were no supplies to speak of that we could use. Dwain’s son was bigger than Cody, but we were able to find some warmer clothes that fit him well enough. He has not been as big of a pain in the ass as I expected, although if he thanks me again for bringing him with us I’m going to kick him.
Tonight, after Cody and Grace fell asleep, the “adults” sat around the table to discuss our future. Nobody wants to stay here after seeing Dwain’s final message to the world. I felt a little guilty bringing up going to Eugene, Oregon, to find my father, but everyone had already assumed that we were going there anyways.
When I asked if anyone had any other ideas, nobody said anything. I think Jim and Marion have come to terms with the fact that they will probably never find their daughter. Albert is optimistic and thinks that we will find other settlements, hopefully not inhabited by religious freaks. He is pretty content to go anywhere at this point. Alison just smiled and squeezed my hand, telling me she was exactly where she wanted to be.
We divided our watch duties into two-hours shifts each. I managed to get the 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. spot. Chloe is curled up next to me on the couch as I write this. I keep thinking that if the world hadn’t gone to hell, I never would have met any of these people I am with now (other than Albert, of course).
I wonder what my life could have been. I have come to the conclusion that until this all happened I was pretty much sleep-walking through life. I never really got close to anyone, or did anything that really mattered. Now, I am responsible for six other lives, and they are all trusting me to make the right decisions. That’s the truth of it, the thing I have been trying to avoid.
As much as I never wanted to own up to it, I’ve never had to grow up until now.
Tomorrow we are going to try to locate one of the military caches located near a town called Weed. I am glad that Jim suggested I copy the locations from the codebook we gave Danny Beckett. I don’t know what we will find, or if we will even be able to find it. I am anxious.
It’s freezing cold outside and Chloe has to pee. Stupid dog. More later.
DAY 89
I’m writing this to stay awake and not thinking about being hurt.
We’re in some store in Shasta’s. Don’t know when where. These meds are making me think all wrong. It’s cold. Can’t write anymore, probably not making any much sense anyway.
DAY 90
I just woke up a little while ago. I’m feeling better, but it hurts to walk.
And, as embarrassing as it sounds, it also hurts like hell to defecate, so I’m not real excited about putting any more food in my stomach.
Just read yesterday’s journal entry. I don’t even remember writing it. I’m a little scared to be this helpless, but I’m luckier than I deserve to be. I have a couple cracked ribs and a concussion from the incident. And, somehow, my knee is all screwed up again.
I should probably start from the beginning. Some of it is still a little fuzzy, but I still remember the important parts. Yesterday morning we got on the 5 freeway north. It was snowing pretty heavily and the roads were covered in a blanket of white. Both vehicles were in four-wheel drive and we had to move pretty slowly. We hadn’t gone five miles when we wound up behind a huge traffic jam. Hundreds of abandoned cars blocked the roadway.
We didn’t see any signs of the undead at first. As we made our way up the median, we began to see Infected trapped in their cars and lying on the road. They looked like cadavers and struggled feebly to get up as we drove by. I am guessing they are all starving. Maybe there is hope for us yet.
We couldn’t go any further and finally got off at an exit. As we stood on the overpass looking north, there was no end to the sea of parked vehicles. The southbound lanes were all clear though, so we made our way off the overpass and headed north up the southbound lanes.
As we worked our way up into the mountains the weather got worse. Our vehicles sunk into the snow up to their wheel wells. The surface underneath was icy. We had chains for the Expedition, but not the Land Rover. Albert was driving the Rover and radioed that his tires kept slipping.
At one point, he couldn’t go on. We had to back the Expedition up to where the Rover got stuck and hook a cable up to its front bumper. I had only towed Albert four miles when the ice got so bad, even my chains couldn’t keep traction. We stopped in the middle of the road and got out to survey our situation.
The snow was blowing everywhere, and with the wind-chill factor, it had to be close to zero degrees Fahrenheit. We were on a pretty steep grade (which was most of our problem) and the snow was getting powdery. Jim, Albert, and I shivered in the cold and discussed our options.
Jim suggested we should take as much weight out of the Rover and worry about just getting the vehicle itself up the rest of the hill. We could come back in the Expedition and make trips to get our supplies to the top later. Nobody else had any better ideas so I went to go tell Alison and warm up in the cab before we got started.
Alison listened wide eyed, and then reminded me that if we couldn’t get ourselves out of this we would be royally screwed since there was nobody else to help us. Grace started crying and Cody asked me what was going to happen to us if we couldn’t get out. I forced away my rising panic and as calmly as I could, told everyone that we would be fine and that we weren’t in any hurry, so there was no problem.
The truth is, I wanted to start crying like Grace. I bundled up and got back out. Jim and Albert were putting rocks behind the back tires of the Rover so I lent a hand to help. I remembered that we had a large bag of sea salt in our supplies. I was planning on pouring it in front of the Expedition’s tires so that I might be able to get a little more traction.
I opened up the tailgate of the vehicle and was rooting around our supplies when I heard a loud creaking sound. I stepped back to see what it was when a sharp crack resounded. I vaguely remember seeing the tow cable snap and feeling something slam into me.
The next thing I remember was lying on my back in the snow, feeling nauseous, and tasting blood in my mouth. I heard voices panicking and heard something sliding away. I only remember flashes after that. One of them involved me lying in the back seat of the Expedition and Alison yelling at Chloe to stay away from me.
I remember something about being on a cot in an icy cold shed and wondering why they were putting me in a freezer. I remember Jim standing over me and saying, “You better stay awake if you don’t want me to keep smacking you around.”
I have no idea what that was all about.
I sort of remember throwing up and feeling like someone had just stuck me in the ribs with a cattle prod. After that, it was just foggy images. I know Alison and Marion were with me the whole time. Both of them kept bugging me about staying awake and drinking water.
Then, a little while ago I woke up with an overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom. Alison tried to keep me down but I was adamant about getting up. I wish I had listened to her. They helped me to an outhouse and the rest I have already recounted.
Albert filled me in on the details I don’t remember. Apparently, when the tow cable snapped, it hit me in the ribs and sent me flying. When I landed, my head got into a fight with a small boulder (my skull lost) and it knocked me out. I bled a lot from the scalp wound and sustained a concussion.
The worst part was that the Rover jumped over the rock wheel stops and slid down the hill over fifty yards and into an embankment. We are lucky the vehicle wasn’t damaged and stayed upright.
Everybody was pretty worried about me and loaded me into the back of the Expedition, dumped all of our supplies so that everyone could fit in the cab, and slipped and slid up the hill trying to find a place to hole up and treat me.
They found the general store and gas station we are staying at ten miles further up the road. The store itself was uninhabitable due to a semi-truck crashing into it and collapsing the building, but behind the store was this workshop with a fire pit and vent chimney in the center of the room. It looks like this place used to be a blacksmith shop.
Once the fire got going this place warmed up pretty quick. We are a little cramped in here with all of us, but the vehicles are parked in the attached shed and, while it’s pretty cold out there in our makeshift garage, it gives us a little more living space.
Once I was stabilized, Albert and Jim got to work making a set of snow cables for the Rover from the materials they found here. This morning first thing, they went out to go retrieve the Land Rover and all of our abandoned supplies.
Other than something dragging off one of our food bags, we recovered everything. The snow cables worked long enough to get the Rover here. I guess they’re pretty shot now, but they did the job.
Jim and Albert secured the area and have patrolled around to make sure there are no Infected nearby. Jim shot two rabbits and prepared them for dinner tonight. The storm is still raging outside, which is both scary and comforting at the same time. We aren’t going anywhere soon.
I have been resting as much as possible. Marion was a little miffed that I taught Grace and Cody how to play Poker, but didn’t have any other suggestions on how I should pass the time. Cody owes me $63,000. Doubt he’ll ever pay.
DAY 91
Absolutely nothing noteworthy happened today.
In fact, the only reason I’m even making this entry is out of sheer boredom. The storm died down early this morning but it is still snowing. My ribs and knee still ache and my head hurts, but I’m pretty sure I’ll live. I’ve discovered I don’t do useless very well.
Alison and I started to talk about our future together, but somehow the conversation got stalled. It’s hard to plan for anything when we have no idea what’s happening in the rest of the world. We tried to talk about what other survivors might be going through, but speculating on that was just depressing. Based on what we’ve seen so far, it’s hard to imagine that there is anywhere on this planet that has been unaffected by this catastrophe.
I need to get better soon.
DAY 92
I took a walk outside with Alison today.
We didn’t go far because the ground is icy. All I need to do is slip and fall. My ribs are sore and it’s hard to breathe. My knee is swollen. Albert and Jim made some more snow chains for the Rover, so as soon as I’m ready to travel, we will get out of here. Everyone is getting pretty cagey.
We have decided to find the military storage bunker somewhere near Weed. Jim found a pretty detailed map in the ruined store and thinks he has a good idea of where we are going. Based on the map, we can park a mile away from the site and walk to the top of a ridge overlooking the area. There’s no way we are going to go to this place without doing a proper recon first.