Zomblog II (17 page)

Saturday, March 14

Today was lousy. It poured down rain all day. It was windy, which only adds to the misery. The Comm Center was quiet. Partially due to nobody out there doing much talking. But also due to three antennae that were damaged because of the wind. And yep, you guessed it, crews are working on the problem right this minute.

Janie and Lindsay had an actual argument today. Huh, lesbian couples argue just like regular married folks. Who knew? It seems that somebody was feeling unappreciated while somebody else felt like all their hard work was taken for granted, blah, blah, blah. I walked in, heard the tones, saw the body-language and turned right around and went down to watch a movie. I feel better every day about my choice in parents for this baby. Those two are like any couple that I’ve ever known.

Tuesday, March 17

No matter what happens, no matter what I see in my travels out there, I can never get used to the sound of another person dying a terrible, painful, violent death. A small herd—by small I mean
only
a couple hundred—surprised one of our farming groups. We lost four people today.

I learned a couple of things today. For all the aspects of this place I don’t agree with, there is one very good aspect. These people genuinely seem to care for each other. There is a cloud of sadness over the compound today. Also, I now know how this place remains populated, and the
real
use for the Comm Center.

My shift was going swell. Bug was out again. He was really excited because he found some onions growing wild. I was wondering just how bad it had gotten for people that onions were being spoken of like gold when the radio-operator tasked with staying in touch with anybody outside called for room silence. He flicked a toggle and put the incoming message on speaker.

Two people immediately started writing furiously, and I was told to be ready with ten radios for a response team. Somebody must have sent for both Tom and Monica during the initial insanity because they came running into the room, Tom looked like he’d been in bed and wasn’t even wearing shoes. I felt more in the way than anything else. That, and helpless. All I could do was listen to the panic, fear, and dying. I was so relieved that it wasn’t Lindsay’s group. Is that wrong?

The first report I heard was that “several walkers are converging from all sides!” That got me thinking back to that attack in the field that almost got me killed and ended with near starvation in a school gymnasium. Is it possible that the zombies are
learning
? I’ve seen too many of them stuck in seatbelts, or pawing at a window while a big rock sits a few feet away to be totally convinced.

There was a long period where the radio was silent. Then, it got worse. When you are worried about someone, you might think silence is the worst possible thing. Wrong. Somehow, a radio was keyed, and there was the sudden wave of sound from a terrible fight.

Gunfire came in bursts. There were people shouting things like “I need ammo!” “Who just got bit?” “Put her down! Don’t let her suffer!” All of this mixed in with moans, groans, and the eerie cries of the undead. Later, I heard that a lot of the compound rushed outside because they could hear the echo of the distant gunfire. Those folks
knew
it was our people. Each one wondering if it was their friends, family, or loved one. At least they couldn’t hear the screams. It had been awhile since I’d heard
that
particular sound. The pure and unbridled shrieking of somebody who is seeing parts of their body torn out and feasted upon. The sound of somebody who, at that moment, wishes for death to hurry so the agony will cease.

Nobody noticed, but during the madness, a contraction hit me, hard. I made it to a chair and worked through it. Suddenly, I felt like it would be terribly inappropriate to express any reaction to the pain, seeing as how a group of people were fighting for their lives and some had already lost that battle. Eventually, they spaced out like they always do, leaving me feeling disappointed and frustrated. Only this time I was able to add guilt to my catalog of emotions because of my self-centeredness while others were, at that very moment, having it much worse.

I made it back to my feet in time to listen as the response team arrived. They put down the rest and suddenly it was quiet. I mean just like that. Silence.

Tom and Monica came to me with a pair of files. It was a log of activity from a couple of roving bands. I was asked to start trying to raise them. I was given very specific instructions as to what I could say. It was also made clear that I was to say nothing outside of the very defined parameters. I would attempt to arrange a meeting at a location from a list provided.

Using their known frequencies, I was able to schedule both meetings. Tom is actually going in person to meet the group scheduled for tomorrow. However, this evening, Monica went into the private room and, as I was going home, a six-person squad was leaving. Putting two-and-two together, our people are putting guns in place in the event this meeting doesn’t go as planned. Didn’t we leave this crap behind? I of all people understand the need to withhold trust. I understand being cautious. But damn, if you are that worried, why even bother trying to bring them in. Has it really come to the point where we need to set-up an ambush team?

Thursday, March 19

Eleven new residents are now part of the Community. I take back all I said about how gaunt, scared, and vacant the folks here look. I couldn’t tell men from women in this group except for facial hair. And the smell! Oh. My. God. The zombies smell better than these people.

I had a friend who travelled overseas. He said that we Americans have no real concept of poverty or suffering. He told me that what he saw made him have a new appreciation for his life and the comfort in which he lived. I think I understand that a little better now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still leaving as soon as I’m able. I simply realize that I have had it much better than probably a lot of survivors out there.

The first few months, before everything really started spoiling, food was not hard to come by. Times have changed that now. Yet, I’ve always managed. I mean, really, I’ve had ice cream for crying out loud. How much suffering have I
really
endured.

Dennis certified all the newbies as being clean—at least of zombie markings. Right now they are all being treated to warm baths in a few hot tubs. I saw a couple of them actually bursting into tears at the sight of steaming water and clean towels. Talk about making a person feel self-conscious about how fortunate they’ve been.

One of their party is pregnant. There is a certain icky-factor to it though. She has no idea who the father is or if he is one of the group that is still alive. That, and she is fifteen. Or, at least she claims to be. Maybe it’s just me, but that little girl doesn’t look a day over twelve.

Something else that isn’t sitting right. The other three women in this group are not currently pregnant. But I overheard Dennis telling Monica that at least two “show signs” of having been so recently. Only, there aren’t any babies.

Friday, March 20

The second group was brought in today. They only had four people in their little band. All were male, one was a boy no older than seven. It was
almost
comical seeing the little guy packing a pair of .22 caliber pistols on his hips. They didn’t look too rugged. In fact, while they were happy to be here, they certainly didn’t look overwhelmed by the surroundings.

One of them is a real-life doctor. I think Dennis was happier than any other resident. Today was cloudy, rainy, and a bit cold. I don’t believe anybody noticed.

Tuesday, March 24

I no longer trust my body. It seems that every single day I think I’m going into labor. Doctor Gene Cameriski has checked me out and says I can have the baby any day. I told him to tell the baby that. He promptly placed a rolled up piece of paper against my stomach and, using it like a megaphone, said “Hey! Baby! You can come out any day!”

I thought Janie was going to pass a lung she laughed so hard. Dennis looked nervous at first, like he thought I was gonna bite Doctor Gene’s head off. Do I really come off like that? I mean, am I that grouchy, cranky, mean, and bitchy?

I went with Lindsay to a movie today. She worked her normal shift, but got off early because the field workers filled the truck faster than expected. (We have a lot of squash and potatoes now.) Janie said that it would be nice if Lindsay and I got to do some bonding. So,
voila
! A movie. Today was some French film called
Amelie
. I’d never seen an actual foreign film until today. It was pretty good.

Wednesday, March 25

A fight broke out today. My first thought was that it was probably the newcomers. I couldn’t have been more wrong. First off, it was a couple of females. For another, one of them was Crystal Johnson. The rumor is that it was about Crystal sending an unruly student home.

I’ve said it before, but this place is becoming too much like the society we once knew. What’s next? Parents fighting at a little league game? Road rage on the jogging path? This place is striving so hard to be civilized, it’s bringing
everything
along without trying to weed out the bad stuff. And I don’t think they even notice.

Thursday, March 26

Very proud of myself today. Thought I was in labor again. But, as always, it was just another biological practical joke.

Doctor Gene came by the living quarters today and gave me an exam. I won’t deny that having a man poking around
down
there
in my bedroom is a bit weird. He did say that the baby is in position. Once again I heard the dreaded words, “Any day now, Meredith.”

Monday, March 30

I was sent home today. The consensus is that they would rather me not go through another stressful event this close to delivery. Their reason? The Sunset Fortress underwent an attack today that lasted over three hours. I was doing fine until I heard Jenifer’s voice.

“
They’ve got flamethrowers over here!” she screamed. I heard orders being given to “Take out the flamethrowers! Take out—” Then there were screams. Terrible screams. I couldn’t tell if they belonged to a man or woman. The battle continued, and I started to cry at some point. Then, while trying to stop, I hyperventilated. The poor people in the Comm Center were in mid-crisis when the pregnant lady passes out and slides out of her chair onto the floor.

I’m not very popular right now with my co-workers. On the positive side, while Doctor Gene was checking me and listening to heartbeats, all that doctor stuff, I hear this voice, “Tell Jonathan to come get his stupid dog!” Jenifer was okay! And Jonathan! And Coach! At least I didn’t have to wonder. That might’ve driven me over the edge.

Now…if only this baby would GET THE HELL OUT OF ME!

Wednesday, April 1

Only forty-eight hours into this employment exile and I’m ready to go insane. If one more person asks me if I’m okay, I may kill them. Don’t get me wrong, I was no fan of the automated routine this place subscribes to, I’m just sick of doing abso-friggin’-lutely nothing.

Please, God, if you’re out there, and you’re listening, get this baby out of me. Oh yeah! And make him or her healthy.

Amen.

Saturday, April 4

It’s dark. It’s late. But something feels strange.

Sunday, April 5

Note from Janie: At 7:55 this morning Snoe Elana Gainey was born. Labor lasted seventeen hours. Doctors Dennis VanDelay and Gene Cameriski were assited by Monica Campinelli. Snoe was seven pounds, four ounces, bald as a cueball, and possessed a healthy set of lungs along with her mother’s temper.

Lindsay Wells held the cord while Janie Wells (me!) cut it. Both mother and daughter are doing fine! Rules were ‘violated’ and we transmitted our first outgoing message to another community. The people of the Sunset Fortress sent their best wishes!

Monday, April 6

Note to self: Those little pains that I
thought
were contractions? Ha! There was nothing about that experience that I care to ever repeat. That said, Snoe is absolutely precious. Her namesake would approve.

Janie and Lindsay approached me late last night, and I could tell they were both nervous. I told them to just spit it out. I knew by their hesitation that it was Snoe-related. Breast-feeding. This place has a fairly interesting, if not archaic program.
Wet-nurses
. Yep, women whose sole function it is to breast-feed babies.