Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (43 page)

Shari and I unslung our M1 rifles and I helped her climb up on this four foot high tomb cover that used to have some sort of statue on top. All that remained were a pair of sandaled feet. There had been a lot of trees spaced throughout this cemetery. Now, there were only blackened husks pointing sharply sk
yward.

Across the highway, I noticed the occasional lone sha
mbler, and even a small cluster or two on the expanse of visibly cracking concrete weaving their way amongst the scattered, mostly abandoned cars. Coach sat obediently at my side for a while. Every so often he would sniff the air and stand. A couple of times he even went out to mark a little territory.

I heard the echoing crack of a rifle. A moment later, deer bounded from some trees and across the highway into a heavily wooded area. Every zombie in sight turned, paused, and began at a slow, awkward walk in the direction of the shot.

I wasn’t too surprised to see several begin emerging from houses. Shari hissed through her teeth. When I asked what, she said a small herd was emerging from the far side of the thick woods across the highway that the deer had vanished into.

Suddenly, Coach started growling. He was looking back the way we’d come from. Coming up the blackened hill out from a cluster of ruined pines and firs were a mob! As soon as they saw us, moans began drifting on the air, but there was an echo. Up from what had to have been a blind spot in the ravine below us was another group! We were caught in a pincer-trap.

I scanned for the best escape route; only, they all of a sudden seemed to be materializing from every direction. Then I heard gunfire from Jonathan
and
Jenifer’s general direction at almost the same time. Coach was growling and now stood pressed up against my legs as if guarding over me.

“Better start shooting,” Shari barked and brought her rifle to her shoulder, dropping a grossly fat, polyester clad female zombie.

“Help me up!” I yelled. “We can stand back-to-back.”

“Better idea,” Shari jumped down. “We move back t
owards the trees we came through when we left the apartment. We can lose those things in the woods.”

“What about Jenifer and Jonathan?” I felt a chill in my chest as a series of rapid-fire shots came from their direction.

“They know where to meet us.” Shari nudged me towards the distant woods.

That took us directly towards the larger of the mobs. We began shooting. I swear, every time I fired, I’d see a body jerk, then continue towards us. Now, of all times I couldn’t hit a damn thing.   Glancing over my shoulder, I felt sick. There were hu
ndreds pouring onto the highway from the big neighborhood across the way! I can’t ever recall so many being intent on me personally. I realized Shari was at my hip, and Coach was there, too, but the basic point is that I was standing in the bull’s-eye.

We walked as fast as I could. Then, just as we came up even with the destroyed fountain, the contraction hit and brought me to my knees. I cried out and Shari tripped over my ever e
xpanding ass. Coach took that moment to bolt. I’m certain that is what saved us, since several of the closest zombies turned to follow the barking, snarling dog.

Shari had to gather up her gun which had fallen from her hands and slid a few feet away through the dirt and scorched ground. I was absolutely useless for several seconds. Bless Sh
ari’s heart, she stood over me emptying her weapon into the nearest threats. One got close enough, an old man in his late fifties by my best guess; when it fell, its head was less than an arm’s reach away. I stared into its milky, black tracer-shot eyes, fixated on a rancid piece of meat stuck between a gap in its broken front teeth. How long had that piece been there? Who had it been torn from? Was
that
person in this group trying to get us?

Finally, the pain was easing and I could stand. The situ
ation hadn’t changed. Those things were everywhere. Coach was darting around the corner of the ruined building ahead of us, leading at least a dozen of those things on a fruitless chase. Somehow I just knew they’d never catch him. I still heard shots—but from only
one
source—in the direction that Jonathan and Jenifer had gone.

I brought my gun up in time to pop a round through the forehead of a cop that looked like a stereotypical donut-eater. A big, ugly gash had been made in that ample belly. I instinctively glanced at his wide, black belt. It was empty of anything useful. Ironically, my next target was wearing cuffs. Its throat had been ripped open, and none of the fingers remained on either hand. The metal of the cuffs were embedded in the flesh.  Whoever had arrested this guy hadn’t been able, or felt inclined, to lock the cuffs so they wouldn’t tighten further.

At some point, a clearing made itself available and we hurried—I can’t claim to have actually done anything resembling running—through it and into the welcoming gloom of the woods.

Even amidst the trees we could see the occasional zo
mbie lurching and stumbling. We zigged and zagged until coming out the other side. I huffed and puffed up the stairs. Shari came a few seconds later assuring me that none of the zombies had been in sight when we ducked into the same building we’d left just a couple hours earlier.

So we sat. We waited. Me. Shari. Coach. Outside, we saw them stumble past in no particular direction. It was like a hellish snow-globe. All the zombies had been shaken and swirled around. Every so often, we’d hear a gunshot or two. O
nly, we had no idea who.

Then, we heard footsteps coming up the stairs…in a hu
rry. It was no zombie. Shari beat me to the door, but only because I’m hideously pregnant. It was Jonathan. I felt my heart skid sideways. I was happy to see him, but Jenifer—

“She’s two buildings over.” Jonathan put his hands on my arms. Maybe he knew I was gonna sorta collapse.

And so here I sit. Waiting for dinner. The building Jenifer went to had most of its roof blown off by something. Anyways, she took the deer there. They gutted and dressed it. Then, Jenifer made a fire pit in a bathroom! No windows! So, while smoke rises and a glow can be seen, zombies—much like dogs according to some—don’t look up! Dinner’s here!

Friday, February 6

Sadly, we’ve left a lot of meat behind. With no way to smoke it or anything of that nature, we just had to leave it to waste. However, for the last couple days, we’ve eaten like pigs! I feel at least twice my normal size.

It took two days for things to settle down outside. We are probably the cause of some hardship for others, and for that, I do feel bad. There has been so much gunfire the past fo
rty-eight hours. Anybody hiding out in this area has been busy. We even had one come up to our door last night. A tall, emaciated looking Asian in a suit that looked three sizes too large.

I try not to think so much about who these things were as people, or how they might’ve died. I mean, you can see the physical damage. And sometimes it is easy to guess. But this guy had his entire bottom lip torn off. The chin was gone, too, just past the jawline. In my mind I see this man leaning down to kiss his wife goodbye after she took that last breath. Then…her eyes open and she bites down–

* * * * *

Today we made it past another ginormous apartment complex. We couldn’t do much in the way of scavenging because it seems we’ve passed into somebody’s territory. We actually had to dodge bullets today.

Jonathan made a white flag after we got pinned down behind a heavily shot up
fire truck. He met with a group of four men and two women. They spoke very briefly, and Jonathan said it came down to one simple request: leave.

We did, but only got to the edge of a residential area. Another hospital looms ahead, even larger than the one that a
lmost put the final nail on our coffin. We’ve crested the West Hills and look down into what I’ve named The Valley of Death.

Saturday, February 7

Things don’t look great right now. In some ways, we’re worse off than when we were surrounded and trapped in that gymnasium. I hope Jonathan returns with good news. He left this morning to try and find us a way around.

There are a couple of problems facing us right now. One, we can’t go back. That group of people made it clear that they won’t miss us next time. They were convinced that we were r
esponsible for stirring up the zombies. We didn’t cop to it, but I’m certain they didn’t buy our line about being forced out of our hideout
because
of the increased activity of the past few days. Two, we can’t go forward without a big risk. There is no place to hide. There is some sort of huge interchange up ahead along with that hospital. Even with our limited visibility due to all the large buildings scattered in our path on both sides of the highway, we can see constant movement. Even at night.

It’s getting late. Shari keeps going all passive-aggressive with comments like, “We didn’t have to leave the Mitchell place.” And, “I don’t know why we are risking our ass to get to a place that might not even be there anymore.” Finally, I told her that she was never asked to come along. That she had sought me and
told
me she was coming. If she didn’t like it, she could shoulder her pack and haul her ass back the way we came.

Jenifer sat quietly, cleaning and oiling guns the whole time. I guess Jonathan has been showing her how at night while I’ve been sleeping. I thought my equipment always looked nice in the mornings when I’d wake up. I guess I’ve never thought about it. I mean, it’s a gun. You aim it, fire it, reload and repeat as necessary.
Of course
they need to be cleaned. And now that I think about it, wasn’t Snoe always tinkering with the weapons after we’d make camp? And that army kid, Perry Rose… the Air Force gal, Colleen Kaufman.

There is something deeply upsetting about having the b
elief that you’ve been self-reliant, and, that if you were spun off all by yourself, you’d be fine. I’ve been under the illusion that I’ve been taking care of myself this whole time. But that’s a big, fat lie! Here I am, Miss Independent. Only, somebody clean my guns, and please risk your ass to bring some canned potatoes when I have a craving. Watch my diet and ensure that I’m getting enough fluids. Scout a route that I can take because the one person insisting we travel has the greatest limitations. Wait! I didn’t ask for any of this. No, Meredith, you didn’t. It was done freely by people who care about you.

I am such a bitch.

Sunday, February 8

No sign of Jonathan. I don’t like this.

Tuesday, February 10

Yay! Jonathan is fine. It’s gonna be risky, but he found us a way. The way he described it, we have a very narrow slice of woods. We still have to weave our way through a nasty neighborhood, but if we can make it to those trees, we can skirt the back side of the hospital!

Unfortunately, he says that things won’t get easier any time soon. He is certain that we will be passing through not only heavily infected areas, but some occupied zones as well. There were some burn piles that he thinks couldn’t be more than a few days old. We’ll try to sneak through, but if we have to negotiate safe passage, we’ve worked out a hand signal. If Jonathan—he wouldn’t entertain the idea of anybody doing the talking but himself—raises the left hand, bug out.

Wednesday, February 11

Jonathan may be “The Negotiator”, but it is Shari that paid our way today. I’m in a three-story parking garage on the second level. This used to be some sort of city bus transit-center. The people living here have been set up for quite a while. There are literally hundreds of cars, trucks, and busses parked in a huge circle around the place which again made me think of Sam’s warehouse complex.

The folks here are very tribal. The interesting thing is that the three-to-one ratio here is in favor of the women! At least half of which are pregnant. Shari has been doing check-ups all evening. We’ve agreed to stay for a few days, and she is helping them compile a list of things that they need for the women.

Here’s the real kicker. They’ve asked Jonathan to offer up his “services” to as many of the ladies as possible the next few days. I guess it is to help keep diversity in the gene pool. They made it clear that it was entirely voluntary. I’m not sure if they got that entire statement out before he agreed.

Coach has even served a purpose. He’s the first living dog folks here have seen since this whole nightmare began. I think his belly has been rubbed raw, and he may have a sprained tail from wagging it so much. Then, there’s me. Pregnant Mer
edith. I helped scrub vegetables for dinner. Woo-hoo!

Oh, I almost forgot. There is a humongous nursery. That is the big reason their perimeter is so large. The ten greenhouses are all in full use. This group has it together. They have solar power on a huge scale—the entire third tier of the parking ga
rage is an array of panels—and a variety of fruits and vegetables I haven’t seen in over a year. I ate a whole fresh tomato today and had fresh-squeezed orange juice to wash everything down at dinner.