Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (79 page)
As I get ready to go to sleep, I just realized that I didn’t even take a look around the old apartment building that we are camping in for the night. It isn’t that there wouldn’t probably be a lot of cool stuff to play with and try to figure out, but I felt a teensy bit more experienced this time. Also, the old timers that we are escorting all seemed to get really sad when we were setting up camp. I guess they miss their former lives.
I refuse to feel guilty when it comes to being excited about my new one!
Friday, June 22
nd
We are on the unpatrolled section of what was once Highway 26. (One of the older EEFers told me.) This is where Meredith and Eric began their journey through what is now considered the Wild West. (Again, that is what one of my companions told me.)
This evening, we are actually encamped inside the log walls of a big fort. I’ve seen photos, and it really looks like something out of a picture book. Everybody is dressed in animal skins with an assortment of weapons dangling off their belts and from their backs.
I saw some females walking around practically naked! Trust me when I say that a few of them shouldn’t do such things. The whole feel of this place was weird. Also, it smelled really dirty.
There is a river just outside the walls and when we arrived, I bet I saw fifty to sixty kids playing in the water. All of them had knives hanging off their waists…even the really little ones. A tiny girl with hair so blonde that it was almost white in the sun ran up to me as I arrived and asked me if I was the new teacher. She was so cute that I hated telling her that I wasn’t.
Once we were logged in, a couple of men came up to our captain and they went off for about an hour. When she came back, she briefed us. It seems that military convoys have been spotted in the area. The big thing about that sentence was the plural form of the word “convoy.”
Like I said, we might see the military roll in on trains once every nine months to a year. The fact that they have convoys roaming the area is a real cause for concern. The biggest concern is that nobody seems to know what they are doing. One of the recent sightings supposedly involved what looked like a long line of people in chains.
Saturday June 23
rd
We are officially inside Confederated Tribe lands. While the tribes claim the lands a bit further out (that fort would fall inside their borders according to their claim), they are not that zealous about “trespassers” until you reach the fence.
To think of what it took to build the fence that surrounds their territory is mind-boggling. It is ten feet high and VERY sturdy. The rumor is that one of the larger herds came up against the first fence and flattened it. The casualty rate was high.
Now, you might think that they would decide to shrink their holdings to something more manageable. Nope. They sent delegates to the Seven Tribes. (If you can believe this…the entire state of Oklahoma is walled off and Native Americans from around the continent, as far away as the deep reaches of Canada, now call it home.) The story is that they built the wall around the Confederated Lands in less than a year from the day they broke ground.
So, while our delegation is meeting with tribal leaders, we are allowed to mingle as long as we have an escort. The cool thing about that is that they also give you a history lesson while they walk around with you. I learned all sorts of things about the meanings of Totem Poles scattered around the village. Also, my guide showed me how to make an arrowhead from basalt. I made five and then realized how clever the guide was to have the silly white girl doing manual labor for free. To make it even better, had we simply been tourists instead of part of a diploma
tic party, we would have PAID to be taught. Then, you get to keep one as a souvenir. The rest are property of the Peoples of the Confederated Tribe.
In the morning, my “guide” has offered to take me to their burial grounds. He made it seem like a really big deal. When I asked what the big deal was about a cemetery, he laughed.
Right now, I am trying to find a way to lie down that is comfortable. I ate so much that I feel like I might just split open right down the middle. I’ve never had fry bread before. Plus, they made this stuff with strawberries to scoop up with the fry bread…
Oh. My. God.
Sunday June, 24
th
Death.
I guess the Natives have it all figured out. They don’t fear it. They seem to embrace it in a way that I don’t think I will ever understand.
So, when one of them reaches an age and feels that it is time, they make sure that they go around the village and pass out their things to friends and family. Then, they walk out into the woods. There is a trail that leads into the tall pines of the forest, here at the base of Mount Hood. At the end of the trail is a big clearing. The closer you get…the quieter the world seems to become. It is like not even the wild animals want to disturb it out there.
When I saw it, I had to look for a while to figure out exactly what I was seeing. The best I can describe it…they have a tree adorned with deer antlers—really big, pointy sets of antlers.
I guess they come here and duck inside this little hide-covered hut. Inside, they stoke a hot fire. Brian (not a very Native American sounding name) told me that they make a final commune with the spirits, and then they come out to the tree with the antlers and impale themselves through the eye; straight into the brain to ensure that they never foul their bodies with the “evil spirits” that fill the shell of their former selves—in other words, no Native American zombies. After two days, the family comes out and removes the body from the tree of antlers and there is this huge black stain where the bonfire is built and the body is burned.
When I asked him if he understood that you needed to be bitten to turn, he didn’t seem to care. I asked him if he would do the same thing when he became an old man. He said that he would embrace it.
Oh. Kay.
Monday, June 25
th
Back out into the wilderness. We are not in the fort tonight. Instead, we are on a hill looking down into the fort…and the hundred wagon convoy emblazoned with the NAA (New America Army) logo that is encamped all around its walls.
Wednesday, June 27
th
I think I am starting to understand how this journaling thing got so engrained in my birth parents. I was a bit too busy yesterday to write, but it nagged at me all day today. Besides, there is something to be said about having some sort of record of things.
It seems that there has been a faction of military that has broken off from the actual New America Army. When we reach Corridor 26, things are probably going to get a bit frantic.
Yesterday we were involved in a skirmish with a scouting element from the renegade faction. (Can I still call them the NAA? They may still have the equipment, but these people aren’t operating under the official banner anymore.)
So, if this goes bad, I guess you need to have a little history lesson. Yes, I am writing this with the thought that I may have information that will help others. But I also believe that things in the world I grew up in are about to change.)
In the Old World, there was a place called NORAD. It seems that a few members of the old government did manage to get to Colorado and the Cheyenne Mountain installation. They couldn’t do much to help, but they brought in as many people as they were able. Also, they did manage to attract a pretty decent amount of military personnel. It seems that any who survived and still felt some sort of obligation to their duty fought their way to that big hole in the mountain.
It has been from there that this small group of Old World government types tried to rebuild. They knew that there would not or could not be a United States of America anymore. Ho
wever, they did feel that it was important to try and bring as many of the places like Corridor 26 into some sort of loose fold. To that extent, they sent out expeditionary forces to find those sorts of communities.
It was in their best interest to help those communities grow. If you can’t say anything else, you have to say that these people had that so-called American Spirit. The stuff that won World Wars and sent people to space is part of who we all are, I guess.
I never gave it any thought to what those who first set up Corridor 26 must have gone through. Places like Sunset Fortress and Warehouse City have always existed in my life. The community that I live in and grew up in was created by people who lost everything and started from scratch.
How have I lived my life and not realized this?
So we were moving off the ridge and plotting a new course. The Native American ambassadors we had with us had already departed, informing us that they needed to tell the tribes what they had seen. They promised to send people to meet with our president as soon as it was reasonable. However, I doubt we will be seeing any of the Native Americans anymore. They have stayed mostly to themselves and refused to get involved in much of anything outside the confines of their great wall.
As we moved off the ridge, we heard screaming. Of course, out here, when you hear screaming, you expect to find people being torn apart by zombies. I was with the detachment sent to investigate.
The man was in a stream with two arrows sticking out of him—one from a leg and the other in his back. Three other men were doing a terrible job of trying to kill him. Unsure of what we were walking into, the decision was made to
try
and take them alive.
As soon as the three got wind of us, that idea went out the door. There were some nasty words and a few threats. Then the man in the stream called out.
“They are coming to conquer every community they find! Run! Warn everybody!”
Those were his words as I recall them.
Less than five minutes later, we were helping Danny O’ Conner out of the stream and tying the one good hand of the only member who survived the skirmish behind his back. I personally put the gag in his mouth. Sheesh! I wonder if all soldiers curse like that.
So, the word we got from Mister O’Conner is that there was a coup from a faction of the NAA that believed it was time to “subjugate the wildly out-of-control communities being allowed to draw on the finite resources of the NAA and the government it represents.” It seems that there is a president and a vice-president sequestered in NORAD.
They have always considered themselves figureheads more or less. Well, it appears that the individual holding the office of vice-president has larger aspirations. When the president would not agree to some plan laid out by his vice-president…she slit his throat on stage during a huge assembly. She already had key elements of the NAA in place around the auditorium or whatever they meet in. Since the assembly was indoors, nobody was carrying weapons. The coup was over in seconds and the vice-president declared herself the new president.
Her first order: Bring all the independent communities to heel under the banner of the NAA. It took me a moment to re
cognize it, but my mother would be pissed.
All hail New America’s president…Dominique DuBois.
Thursday, June 28
th
I can’t believe how much the news of Dominique’s “un” death is affecting people. It is like finding out that the boogeyman is real. I never realized just how much people hate that name.
It was around lunch when it struck me. I’ve met a lot of “Sams” and Merediths” and a host of familiar names from those books. Proof of their impact, I guess. However, I have never met one single Dominique. She is the biblical Cain…which makes Jenifer…Abel?
Friday, June 29
th
Arrived home. I didn’t feel like being the one to drop the bad news on everybody, so I just submitted to my check-up, passed my blood test, and came back to find the place still empty. I expected Mama Lindsay to beat me back.
It is strange, but now that I know what is out there, I worry so much more about her than I ever have before. Add this new element of the NAA…and Dominique takes everything up a notch.
I stopped by Phaedra’s, but she wasn’t home. I know she isn’t on a run, because I checked the board before I left.
Mama Lindsay is home. I guess she got word of everything from an outbound convoy. Well…almost everything.
I told her about New America’s new president.
Jenifer is coming over tonight to meet with Mama Lindsay and a bunch of the folks in charge of security. We will be pr
epared for the worst of possibilities. One of the benefits of who I am—Mama Lindsay’s daughter, not the offspring of Sam and Meredith—is that it will happen under my roof. I will be in the know.
Monday, July 2
nd
I leave in seven days.
The EEF now has a new mission statement. An offshoot branch will be tasked to embark on “recon and becoming a ge
neral pain in the ass” is how our eloquent president put it. We will be undertaking our first mission. There is a railroad bridge about three days out that we are tasked with taking down, sabotaging, or impeding by any means necessary.
The task is very open to ingenuity. I guess it would have been easier in the Old World era. However, the tools and/or e
xplosives to make a job like this happen are not readily available. We will have to improvise in the field.
THAT is exciting!
Two of the people coming with us are old friends of my birth mother: Jeff and Rodney. It is ironic that they are now considered explosives experts. When Meredith met them, she believed that they were Army Rangers. They were…sorta.
Jeff and Rodney were supply clerks. They were also the ones responsible for blowing up the house of The Genesis Brotherhood. They were informed of the situation with Dominique and both men stepped forward to volunteer.
The real humor in this situation is that both men had to officially enlist in the EEF. They are in the training now. I wonder if they are having flashbacks.
The normal enlistee for the EEF is between seventeen and twenty-five. In their mid-forties, Jeff and Rodney are going to be the oldest and most junior members of the force. I can’t wait to actually meet them.
This brought up some new feelings. I have always tried to live my life as the daughter of Mama Janie and Mama Lindsay. I have made it a life choice to put being Sam and Meredith’s daughter in the back…to the point of almost pretending they don’t exist. I am not sure that is the right way to go anymore. I have avoided meeting a bunch of people from their past, people in the books just because I wanted to avoid mixing with their past too intimately.
I tried so hard to be something else. Yet, here it has come back…full circle. I never understood that phrase until now. All that has gone before is coming back like that bad taste in your mouth you can’t get rid of no matter how much you rinse. The whole time you were rinsing your mouth you were forgetting that the source of that taste is deep in your belly.
I maintain that I will NOT be taking off to see the world. There was an aspect of selfishness in my birth mother that does not course through my veins. I think my heart is more like my birth father’s. I want to help my home…serve in the EEF…and maybe even settle down someday.
Wednesday, July 4
th
Today was one of those Fourth of July celebrations that made everybody feel connected. Not just to each other, but to the past. For those of us who have no recollection of the way things were…this day has always been about the food and the games and seeing so many people come together.
I’ve seen pictures of fireworks. I guess they are much prett
ier in person, but to me, they don’t seem that special. Today, President Jenifer Emory gave her first speech since accepting office. I waited until she was busy and snatched all of the pages because I wanted to write it down. It just seemed really important. I realize that she is only the president here at Corridor 26. I realize that there is a person declaring herself the
actual
president of all the colonies. I could say I am the President of the Moon…that doesn’t mean a thing.
So, here is the president’s speech:
“Ladies and gentleman of Corridor 26, I want to welcome you to our Fourth of July celebration. Every year for the past fifteen years, we have come together on this day to remember the spirit that made this nation great.
We come together to celebrate the accomplishments of a people who had no business winning the war that they undertook in the name of Life…Liberty…and the Pursuit of Happiness. Yet, for many of us, those words have held little or no meaning for too long.
We live behind walls made from cars and trucks and c
ement. We leave the protection of those walls at great risk to our lives. None of us could have foreseen this all those years ago. The events that transpired were out of a movie that few of us would have probably watched, and none of us would have believed possible.
By hard work and the determination inherited from our forefathers, we have carved out a life for ourselves and our chi
ldren. Yet, to some, it seems that it has come at a cost of the very freedom we celebrate today.
I say that is a load of crap!
(There was a good round of applause here along with the laughter. I guess presidents didn’t use words like that in their speeches in the Old World.)
As I stand up here and look out at all the faces, I can say that I recognize most of you. I have spoken with most of you. I have yelled at half of you.
(More laughs.)
I have cried with all of you.
Since this crazy world got tipped over and all Hell broke loose, we have all had to start our lives over. We have done well for ourselves here. We have shown that pioneer spirit that the men and women displayed when they came out on covered wa
gons. We have endured hardships beyond imagining. We persisted during those two winters when there was barely enough food to survive after the terrible storms destroyed most of our crops.
Now there is a new threat.
Some of you have heard rumors, and I am here to clear the rumors out and give you truth. I know that today is a day of celebration, and I don’t want that to change. However, I need you all to know what we have ahead of us.
It seems that the American government is alive and well. They have a stronghold in the old NORAD complex. From there, they have been building their strength and resources. We have all seen the trains that have come, and the fine men and women of the New American Army who helped us build stronger walls and dig channels to provide our community with fresh water.
This government has decided to try and reclaim sovereignty over all the organized communities like ours that it helped. An individual has taken the office of president through assassinating the president in office when he refused to submit to her ideas of this New American rule. She has assumed control of a large part of the organized military and intends to wield it as a club to knock down any who would stand up to her regime.
I say she better be prepared to wield that club personally because the citizens of Corridor 26 will not acknowledge any leader that we did not elect. We will not serve anybody who has not toiled in the fields or stood watch on the wall. We will not follow somebody who is unfit to lead.
We will fight anybody who tells us that we are here to serve their pleasure. There will be no negotiations and I will make no concessions. As long as I am your president, I will not permit our community to be occupied by any force that has designs on assuming control.
So, on this Fourth of July, I want to quote a famous sea ca
ptain of the Revolution. I want to borrow from a man who was facing the most powerful naval might in the world at the time and had no business doing so. I will share with you the response that I sent when I was informed by messenger that refusal to accept an occupational force will mean that we stand against the New American government and that such actions will be dealt with swiftly. I will share the words I gave in answer to the question, “Are you ready for a fight?”
“I have not yet begun to fight!”
That got everybody yelling and cheering. After that, President Emory (she wasn’t Jenifer today) waded out into the crowd. I watched as she vanished in a sea of people. For just a flash, the scene turned to one of her being pulled down by a thousand undead hands. I shook it off as a mixture of the sun and the venison pepperoni I’d been snacking on all morning.
I hope that wasn’t some silly foreshadowing dream. I have heard of people who have those. In fact, there is an old lady here that has a small business telling people their future. I can’t say that I buy into that sort of thing, but stranger things have ha
ppened.
The rest of the day was all about celebrating. Maybe it was me, but folks seemed a bit more vocal and just plain noisy today. It was like everybody wanted to prove how resilient we are through excessive volume.
Friday, July 6
th
I met with Mama Lindsay, Jenifer, and the captain who would be in charge of our mission. His name is Jackie Vaughn. Also on hand was his second-in-command. Phaedra! So the team is set. There will be six of us. I was curious as to why I was called in for a meeting, but it didn’t take long for the answers to come.
The concern is that my going out in the field could lead to other problems. If I am ever captured by these NAA forces and it was discovered who I am, then it might go badly for me. All three of the journals have been copied and are strangely wid
espread. I say strangely because it is not like there are any companies shipping books around the country (or however books used to get distributed in the Old World).
I tried to explain that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but appa
rently people feel that Dominique is so focused in this region because of her feud with my birth mother and Jenifer. They seem to think that she will make some effort to get me.
What a bunch of hooey!
So, after the meeting where I made it very clear that I would not give up my position, and that I am not afraid of any crazy lady with a grudge against Meredith, I left with Phaedra. We sat down by one of the streams where the children play and just talked about food and boys and how many ways we were going to send the NAA running back home with their tails between their legs.
Saturday July 7
th
Met with Jeff and Rodney today after graduation. They were both very nice. We studied the map of the route we will be taking. I won’t pretend for a second that the idea of venturing into Old Portland is not equal parts thrilling, scary, and creepy.
You hear all sorts of stories, but I am quickly discovering that you can’t believe everything that you hear. People tend to take things and twist them into something that they understand. The problem is, as soon as it gets passed on, the next person in line does the same thing. Pretty soon, what we have is nothing even close to the actual thing it started out as.
I was also surprised to hear that they feel we will be out in the wild for possibly two months or more. That gave me just a little pause of concern. It isn’t that I’m afraid to be out there…EVERYBODY is afraid to be out there. For Pete’s sake, that is where all the zombies are! It’s just that this will be a big step for me. I have a sense that, if I am feeling this conflicted now about my life and my past and my history, this might change things in such a way that I can’t ever be the same person again.
I get the idea that they expected something different from me when we met. It was like they were studying me and watc
hing every single thing they said. It was weird.
So, the six of us will leave on Monday morning. It is me, Jeff, Rodney, Phaedra, Captain Vaughn, and a guy named John Collie.
John has been in the EEF for almost four years. He seems like a real quiet guy. At first I thought it was the whole thing about me (somebody needs to get over herself) until Phaedra told me that he has been like that as long as she’s known him.
Tonight I am packing everything I will need. Then, Mama Lindsay says that she will go through my pack tomorrow and make sure I didn’t miss anything.
Things are different here at home now. It seems like Mama Lindsay is nervous. I don’t know what I can say or do to convince her that I won’t just up and leave. I can’t understand how people could see me that way after knowing me all my life. I am very happy living in Corridor 26. I get more than my fill of the wilderness when I leave as an agent of the EEF. I am even looking forward to returning from this mission because all of us have been promised a two week R & R period.
I love my home. I love my bed. And I love my mom. My mom’s name is Lindsay Wells. It does not matter who gave birth to me…she is the person who raised me to become the person that I am today.
Monday, July 9
th
First night out is always the hardest. You have to get used to the quiet. Oh…and the occasional sound of a zombie. Some moan, and some make that icky “cry baby” sound. Nobody has ever figured out the Crybabies. (That’s what they are called in the field.)
There are a few differences in the zombies from twenty years ago. At least that is what I am told by those who reme
mber. I guess they are even slower now. Also, they don’t move unless they are in an active herd or actually in pursuit of something. They can continue on in pursuit for a few days even after losing sight of their prey, but they are like a wind-up toy and eventually run down to a complete halt.
