Dark Recollections (29 page)

I pulped up the rest of the walkers by simply going back and forth with the truck in the middle of the road. I had to get out though and finish off a few of them that I couldn’t run over. One of them spun out pretty bad when I hit him, and he landed propped up against a tree, well off the road. I had to shoot him with the .22 too. A bummer, wasting bullets like that. But, he came at me pretty quick when I went at him with the sword, and he was a big motherfucker and I didn’t want to die. I guess killing a zombie with a bullet can’t be a waste. It’s a dead zombie right? Using the sword would be more resource efficient, but using a bullet isn’t a waste. There, I feel better about it. Rationalization for the win.

As best I could I got the bodies out of the road. I didn’t want it filled with obstacles made out of bodies, and I also didn’t want to draw too much attention to the area. A dozen dead bodies in the road might raise someone’s suspicions. So after clearing out the completely random zombie herd I focused on getting into the three houses I wanted to clear. I followed the same pattern as before. Honk repeatedly, make my presence known, etc etc. Nothing came out, and I didn’t see anything moving inside, so I entered the houses and cleared them as normal. The first house was a pretty standard farmhouse design. Three floors, white with black shutters. Huge ass attached barn. Not much in the way of great supplies to be found, although they did have a couple 12 packs of decent toilet paper. Doesn’t seem like much Mr. Journal, but I assure you if you use sub-par toilet paper too long your asshole WILL get chapped. No one wants a chapped ass.

Barn had some cool outdoorsy tools but again, not much to celebrate over. The house was a bust, right down to the creepy ass basement I had to clear with my fucking small flashlight. Surprisingly Mr. Journal, I have not yet found a decent flashlight in any of these houses. I wonder why that is? One of life after the zombie apocalypse’s small mysteries. Where did all the flashlights go?

Second house was much smaller but had a few things worth taking. Whoever lived there frigging loved video games, which is cool because I am a fan as well. They had the whole setup including a 50 inch flatsceen HDTV, PS3, Wii, and Xbox360. Fortunately I am a pretty strong dude, and I was able to get the tv into the truck by myself. Up until now I was just using an old school crappy tv from one of the dorm common rooms. Now my limited television and video gaming time is greatly improved. He also had a ton of good movies and CDs too, which amps up my collection for entertainment.

That house also had some pretty sweet snack food. Video gamer dude was a really big fan of chips. There were about 8 bags of assorted corn chips, tortilla chips, and cheese coated puffs. He also had a few full boxes of snack cakes and about 10 full 12 packs of sodas. Jackpot Mr. Journal? You be the judge. I’m stoked for the junk food, but it’s junk food. Empty calories for the most part.

House three was the best of the bunch in terms of straight up loot. That’s saying something considering house #2 scored me a 50 inch flatscreen. I am mostly concerned with having enough food to survive the winter right now, so any food I find is good, and any food that’s canned is worth its weight in gold. House 3 was a mini Fort Knox for me. I found zilch in the house proper. They had a reasonably well stocked pantry filled with lots of usable foods. There were multiple boxes of cereal, and most amazingly, 5 boxes of dried milk, one of the things I had forgotten to grab any of at the grocery store. Who ever lived here really liked dry milk. I haven’t had real milk in some time, so this will be a big treat going forward.

Downstairs was the real treasure trove. Large tin cans of juice. There were multiple cardboard flats of 6 cans stacked neatly in the corner. They had tomato juice, pineapple juice, grapefruit juice, apple juice, fruit punch, and a few other random flavors. I think that’s the real jackpot Mr. Journal. Without a regular heavy dose of vitamin C I’m actually at risk for getting scurvy. It’s not just a pirate’s problem Mr. Journal.
 
Arr.. it happens to survivors of the apocalypse too! Arrr! Sorry that was…. lame.

Problem solved though. Plenty of good vitamins in the all those juices. Really stoked for the tomato juice. Makes me want to get the indoor garden started, which I haven’t yet. I think I’m going to maybe do one or two houses tomorrow instead of three and use the rest of the time to relax and get the pots going. I’m starting to really burn out lifting all this bullshit all day long. I’m strong, but I’m not a machine.

I cleared out the house and the vault of juice in the basement. I was pretty much pulling out of the driveway when I noticed a shed in the far back of the property. I had to check it, so I stopped the car, backed right into the back yard, hopped out, and walked back to shed. It was shaped like a barn, with the angular yet rounded roof. It was even red. One of the aluminum deals you could get at a lot of hardware and lumber stores back in the 80’s and 90’s. Junk really, but they worked for folks without a lot of cash. I got to within 10 feet of the door and saw it was ajar. Normally not that much of a red flag, but right about then I caught a whiff of something wretched inside.

I used the shotgun barrel to push the door wide open. Once I got done throwing up I sat down in the cold grass in the yard for a few minutes. It’s kind of hard to talk about this Mr. Journal. Weird. Inside the shed I found about 15 dead animals. All had been strangled, as best as I could figure. Sitting in the far back of the shed, buried in the carcasses of the dead animals was a frail little old lady. The top of her head was sheared clean off by some large blade. On hands and knees facing this macabre shrine, naked and covered in blood was a teenage boy. Somehow he had driven a knife up under his chin, through the roof of his mouth, and into his own brain. I think he fell on it that way. Purposefully.

I have no idea how this came to be, or why this happened. I just don’t get it. I kinda forgot about it up until right now too. I was so excited to tell you about my haul today I’d sent the memory away.
 

Man…. Fucked up.

I am thankful I still have my cat. I am thankful I wasn’t around when whatever happened in that shed went down. Fucking atrocious.

I think I sat like that in the middle of their lawn for 10 minutes before I heard a car coming.
 
I was still kind of in shock, so I just sat still, frozen. I could only see the car a little as it drove by, but it was an upscale sedan of some form. A black BMW or Mercedes. It bombed by down the road at like 50 miles an hour, and never stopped, or even looked my way. I could see a brief glimpse of at least two people in the car. I clearly saw a long shock of red hair on a female passenger.

People. Survivors. Moving through the area.

Exciting? Horrifying? I just don’t know.

I left the house and came back here. Got everything in, got the HDTV set up, chilled out for awhile, had some food, and spent the majority of last night playing Playstation. Put off getting the pots together for my indoor garden until today.

As for earlier today, I got up at the crack of dawn, geared myself up, and headed down to the gas station again. I was curious if there would be more of the roaming undead again. There was. I pulled down the hill to the stop sign a bit slower today, and stopped far before it. There were 5 zombies, doing the same thing as the bunch yesterday. Milling about, slowly moving, but today they were headed to the east. I think they were following the luxury car I saw drive by yesterday. If the mob yesterday saw the car heading west, they might’ve followed it for some time, eventually maybe losing interest, or who knows what. Same thing today, only when the car comes back through.

It certainly raises the question of whether or not the undead follow cars. Once they get moving in a direction, they seem to keep moving in that direction until something gets their attention. If nothing else does, they just keep moving forward indefinitely. That’s sheer theory Mr. Journal. I have no proof of this.

Definitely scary though. If it’s true, then it confirms my fears that anything that comes through the campus with a zombie behind it will drag that zombie behind it. I really wonder if one zombie will get the attention of other zombies? I haven’t seen them attack each other ever, and I’ve seen them alone, and in groups. I wonder if they unwittingly form groups because of some base, evil instinct? Fucked if I know.

Point at hand was there were 5 zombies meandering slowly towards town to the east. I was comfortable with using the truck as a battering ram again, so I aimed at the cluster right in the middle of the road and gave it the gas. Ran over them pretty solidly, and turned around down the road for an encore. Hit the last two walkers after they got bunched up with each other, and finished the ones that didn’t get their head busted with the sword. As safely done as can be imagined. I dragged the bodies off the road again.

I am… really starting to think about putting the school’s plow on one of the dump body Fords. It’s got the attachments for it, and I helped Doug the maintenance dude do it a few times. I could do it pretty easily. I’m thinking I could do some serious damage with a snowplow. Mmm. Snowplow. Mmm. Zombieplow. That doesn’t sound right at all. *thinks of bunnies*

Much better now. Palate cleansed.

After that I decided I’d clear oneb house on Auburn Lake Road. There was one house fairly separate from the others that was actually the first house on the street. Typical white house, black shutters. Huge wraparound porch though. Must’ve been a great hangout for sunsets and early mornings with a hot cup of coffee. Maybe next summer I’ll come back and do just that.

This house had a large barn in the backyard, and after I made my presence known, I cleared that first. Yet another disturbing find. This barn was big, with a giant loft filled with hay. Hanging from one of the barn beams was a dead guy. He had clearly hung himself, and started to kick and scratch at the air as soon as I entered the barn. Must’ve been desperate to end his own life, but I’m not gonna judge. There must’ve been millions of suicides. I can’t even fathom the despair the world felt, is still feeling.

I cleared the barn real quick, and retrieved the .22 from the truck. I popped him once in the head and his jerky movements came to an abrupt stop. His limp body just swayed back and forth in the crisp breeze. He’ll swing like that until his neck disintegrates.

The house was empty. Well, empty of people and zombies. I spent an inordinate amount of time opening doors though. Every single fucking door in that place was shut and locked. I know I said I wanted to use the shotgun to blast doors open, but it became apparent that’d be a huge waste of ammo. I would up sniff testing every door, knocking loudly, waiting, and then eventually booting every door in. My legs are killing me from all the kicking.

Luckily, the house was empty of the dead. In terms of crazy loot, there wasn’t a lot. I think my hanging buddy holed up in here for some time. His trash barrels in the back were filled with cans, and his shelves were more or less bare. The big haul was a giant still sealed container of instant coffee. He also had some little stuff, but nothing really mind blowing. It was almost a waste of time. I am glad I got to shoot his body though. It would’ve been weird to find a zombie walking around with a noose hanging off its neck. Fucking creepy right?

Um. Yeah not much there really. Some coffee. Few cans of shitty food. Another creepy open stone foundation. He did have a five gallon gas can in the back of the barn though, which I guess is pretty neat. Starting to get a little concerned with the amount of fuel I could have laying around campus here. My boy Blue is bad enough.

I called it quits after that. Headed up here, got my meager spoils into Hall E, cleaned myself off, and made some dinner. I opened yet another can of potatoes, a can of carrots, one of those yummy cans of brown bread, and I fired up the grill for a bit to cook up one of the racks of venison short ribs. And if you didn’t see this coming Mr. Journal, I opened up one of the cans of cranberry relish I got from my mom’s place. I gorged myself almost to the point of nausea.
 
Heavenly.

Today was a good day Mr. Journal. I am thankful for that.

I still can’t get that redhead in the car off my mind.
 

-Adrian

November 27
^th

Wassup Mr. Journal? It’s Saturday, and I’m pretty exhausted. It was nice to have a relaxing afternoon on Turkey day, but as the old saying goes, there’s no rest for the wicked. Going to have to take a day or two off here. My back is starting to act up, and I’m fairly sure I sprained a thumb when I caught it on a doorframe earlier. Sore as hell. Still too much to do though, and that means I’m right back at it.
 

I wound up waking up pretty late from my venison and vegetable rufee cocktail, so I decided to just do two houses and call it a day. I stuck with the houses on Auburn Lake Road and just did the next two in line after the farmhouse where I shot the zombie that hung himself. I’m moving along in a geographical sense. Instead of just doing all the houses on one side of the road, I’m doing them as I come to them. The two I did yesterday were right across the street from each other, which saved me a lot of time.

The haul was mediocre. Fairly good amounts of durable foods, but the biggest items of note were a brand spanking new crock pot, and a perfectly new set of pots and pans. Doesn’t sound like much really, but crock pots are the SHIT for lazy bachelors. You can cook almost anything with little risk of burning or overcooking, and it almost always comes out awesome. Fucking A, crock pot. The pots and pans are just a big upgrade over the industrial crap I’ve been using here in the dorm. Just nice to have better crap. Probably shouldn’t call it crap though, seems counterproductive. Just nice to have better things.
 

So that’s about it. Oh wait that’s not true. One of the homes I went to yesterday had a reasonably well stocked liquor cabinet. Lots of half drank bottles of the cheap stuff, but honestly, beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t think I’m going to drink any of it. I’m starting to think after seeing that car that having extra of stuff, and stuff I don’t need/want is a good thing. Barter materials. I might need to strike a trade someday and I know there were a lot of drunk assholes in this town. They will probably trade good and trade hard for the cheap shit.