100 Days of Death (33 page)

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Authors: Ray Ellingsen

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: 100 Days of Death
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Alison and I spent all night together in the garden. I’ve never really considered myself a very romantic guy, but lying under the stars with Alison’s head nestled on my shoulder was pretty amazing. We have finally crossed that line into intimacy. I’m kind of surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Of course, we finally reach that point when it’s inconvenient as hell to be alone together. I feel like a teenager having to sneak off to the garden to fool around with my girlfriend.

It is 6:30 a.m. and I am just now settling down enough to get some sleep. If one more person walks by my bunk and calls me “lazy bones,” I’m going to beat someone senseless. Goodnight.

DAY 78

After three hours of people shaking me and asking if I was “OK,” I gave up on sleep.

Chloe was the last straw. She barely fits on my bunk with me, and after her constantly kicking, nudging me, and whining to go out, I dragged myself out of bed and took her out. I am writing this entry as I watch her do the “poop dance.”

I forgot to mention the other dogs here at the compound. They are mostly stray mutts with no real owners. A couple of them came here with families, but they all run around in a pack now. Chloe ignores them for the most part. She got into a scuffle with one of the bigger dogs, but bit the crap out of it and sent it on its way. She is definitely a loner. I can relate. More later.

Great! Thanks to Albert and his big, fat mouth, I am now apparently “the stuff of legends.”

This morning I was walking to the commissary to get a late breakfast when I noticed everyone staring at me. I tried to disregard it but it started getting on my nerves. Alison found me and smiled warmly. I thought it was because of last night, but it turns out she was amused by my new status.

I had no idea what she was talking about until she informed me that Albert told everyone about my “big showdown” with Karl Jackson. It turns out that Karl lived here at the Preserve several months ago.

The community was terrified of him and finally forced him to leave once they found out his penchant for children. He swore he’d get them back. I guess his reputation has grown over the months to the point he is considered the Boogie Man by most of the kids here.

Alison looked shocked when I started laughing. When she asked me what was so funny I told her I had this image in my head of Karl being this bolt-necked Frankenstein monster that the local villagers had to chase out in the middle of the night with fire and pitch forks.

Alison tried not to laugh, but a smile crept onto her face. We laughed quietly together until Dietz walked up and ruined the moment. He glared down at me with distain. On either side of him were two of his men, armed with rifles.

“Mr. Kester needs to talk to you.” he said.

My stomach churned, but I wasn’t about to give Dietz the satisfaction of knowing he had intimidated me.

“So, you figure I can’t find my way to his office without an armed escort?” I asked innocently.

Dietz stared me down and then shook his head. He swatted his hand downward to the men behind him. They shouldered their weapons.

“What’s going on, Dietz?” I queried.

Dietz told me it was between me and Kester and wouldn’t say more. I made a point of finishing my meal first and then got up. Alison asked what was going on, but Dietz ignored her. I quietly told her to stick close to Albert until I got everything sorted out.

As we walked to the main house, everyone stopped to look at me. I couldn’t figure out what the deal was. I thought for a moment that it might have something to do with Alison and I spending all night in the garden (not being married and all) but then realized that was ridiculous.

David Kester met me with a warm smile and I started to relax. When he noticed that Dietz and his men were armed he frowned at Dietz. Dietz dismissed his guys and sat in the back of the room, sulking.

“I’d like to ask you some questions of a personal nature if I can.” he said. When I didn’t say anything he continued on.

“Is it true you took Karl Jackson’s life?” He asked.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was driving at, but finally gave up and just nodded.

He contemplated this and then said, “Well, while I don’t condone killing, you’ve done the world a great service. He was a sinful man beyond redemption.” After a moment he added, “I heard you beat him first and then out drew him and shot him when he tried to draw a weapon on you.”

I shook my head, amazed at how fast rumors get twisted around.

“First off, you saw Karl. We both know there’s no way I could have beat him in a fistfight. And second, he managed to draw his pistol, get three shots off, and hit me with a round before my gun even cleared its holster. I just got lucky.” I replied.

He told me I was being modest, but no matter what I said, people were going to look at me like I was something special now. He just wanted to hear for himself what I had to say about the incident. He thanked me and then apologized for Dietz’s behavior.

I walked out of the office, ignoring Dietz as I passed him.

I saw Albert as I was crossing the courtyard. I approached him and then smacked him in the back of the head.

“Next time, keep your yap shut.” I scolded.

He grinned at me. “You’re a hero. Embrace it.” he said.

I flipped him off as I walked away. I will say this for Albert—his stupid campfire tales have made me pretty popular. Unfortunately, everyone here now knows way too much about me. The only good thing to come out of it so far is that when I walked into the clubhouse for my meeting with our “hunters,” they had all changed their attitude toward me. They hated and feared Karl fiercely.

We spent the afternoon working on immediate action drills (what to do if we are attacked by undead) and patrol and stealth techniques. They listened carefully and even took notes. Even Roger got into it. Instead of going into Vacaville we are going to make our first patrol to several farms just outside of town. We are scheduled to leave tomorrow at first light.

Tonight Alison and I met in the commissary and had dinner together. Grace, Albert, Jim and Marion joined us. Even though Jim and Marion are new additions to our group, it was good to be together again. I couldn’t get Grace to stop incessantly asking me stupid questions. Even so, it was good to see her too.

At one point, Jim leaned in close and cryptically asked me how I liked being here. I wasn’t sure what he was getting at and told him that even though I thought Ron Dietz was an asshole, everyone else seemed alright. I thought it was odd the way he put it, but maybe I just misinterpreted his tone. I will have to ask him later what he meant by it.

Alison is a little mad at me that I am going out on patrol tomorrow. I told her that I need to pull my weight and this is the only way I know how. I explained to her that I wasn’t an ace repair guy and master storyteller like Albert.

I am a little nervous about tomorrow. I am going to leave Chloe with Alison. I’m sure everything will be fine.

DAY 79

Today was a strong reminder not to ever let your guard down.

We patrolled several farmhouses just north of Vacaville. The first one was a dry run (nothing there and no undead), but it was good to see our teams in action. They stayed in formation and worked together, even following radio protocols like we rehearsed it.

The second place we hit was a ranch. We found two malnourished cows in the barn and four chickens wandering around the grounds. I sent one of our vehicles back for a flatbed truck and we scavenged everything we could while we waited for their return. The biggest find there (other than the livestock) was two cases of yams in mason jars and three spare truck tires.

Dean, one of our team members, found the ranch owners dead in the house. They took their own lives and left a note asking God for forgiveness.

The third place we came to was a farmhouse with a cornfield. We did a cursory search for infected people and set about gathering what we could. Most of the team members are farmers and ranch hands (and an accountant named Bob). The corn was beyond its prime, but apparently still salvageable. Our team discipline went to shit as everyone started picking the corn and other vegetables in the nearby garden.

We had been working in the fields for almost two hours when I heard gunfire coming from the garden behind the main house. I got on the radio and (as calmly as I could) asked for a sit rep (situation report). For a response, I got more gunfire and yelling, none of it from over the radio. I had to yell at the guys in my squad to form up and not go running to the rescue half-cocked.

When we got to the scene of the crime, there were two undead bodies riddled with bullets and one of our guys (Jonathan) was bleeding from a scalp wound he sustained when he fell trying to get away from the creatures. Moments later, everyone from our two teams had come over to see what was going on.

I had to check my temper to not scream at them for forgetting their training. We all stood around like a bunch of single guys at the local dance. I (through gritted teeth) asked the guys who got attacked why they didn’t respond to my radio call.

It turned out that the squad that had been attacked had left most of their gear (including their radios and most of their firearms) on the trucks because they were too heavy to lug around.

No wonder guys had been dropping like flies on previous patrols. I got everybody armed and organized again and we wrapped up our operation, taking as much as we could. A few guys started to protest until I told them that the noise we made was probably going to attract every infected creature within five miles. That got their attention.

When we got back to the Preserve I made everyone clean their weapons and made the squad leaders write up after action reports. They grumbled, but did it. By dinner, the tales of our exploits had grown to epic proportions. I went to check on Jonathan (the guy who got injured) and found him sulking in our dorm.

He said he was fine so I left him alone. Kester came up to me and congratulated me. Even Dietz was less of an asshole than usual. Alison was off talking to some of the girls she works with over in the infirmary, Albert had gathered an audience again (I’m sure I’m going to want to punch him when I find out what he’s been talking about now), which left Grace.

She came up to me with a new friend from school named Cody. He is nine years old. Cody’s first question to me was to ask if he could see the gun that killed Karl. I told him to go play in traffic. He was unfazed by my suggestion and continued to hang around me like a groupie. I now know more about the little turd than I ever wanted to.

Even Grace got bored with him and wandered off, leaving me to deal with him alone. I did feel a little guilty when I told him his parents were probably looking for him and he told me they were both dead. All he would tell me was that they died just outside the main gate. I let him follow me around for the rest of the night because I felt like shit for making him have to think about his loss. I don’t envy Cody. I wouldn’t want to have to grow up in this world.

DAY 80

Today is Sunday.

When I woke up this morning, everyone in the bunkhouse was gone. I wandered into the commissary and found it empty. In fact, the whole compound was quiet. I was beginning to get a little worried until I heard singing coming from one of the storage barns. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a church. I figured it out by then. Dietz and several other men were outside the building and spotted me. I was tempted to try to avoid them but Dietz and I had made eye contact.

He walked up to me and told me it was rude to be late to church. When I told him I wasn’t planning to attend he gave me a genuinely shocked look.

“Church is mandatory.” Dietz said.

“So why aren’t you attending then?” I asked.

He glared at me and then mumbled something about him and his men receiving a special service earlier. I told him church wasn’t my thing and walked away. I could tell he and his goons were seriously pissed at me.

As I walked past the main house, I heard Jim’s voice behind me. “Not going to services?” he asked.

I jumped at the sound of his voice and spun around. He grinned at me. “Don’t start.” I responded.

When I asked him why he wasn’t in church he pointed to his bullet wound and said, “Still under the weather.”

“They actually bought that excuse from you?” I queried.

Jim grinned even wider and shook his head. His smile faded and he became serious when I asked him what the story was with everyone having to go to church.

He studied me for a minute and then asked, “You don’t agree with mandatory faith?”

I shook my head. He said that he didn’t want to tell me about it before because he wasn’t sure how I’d respond.

“So, you’re telling me everyone here is a religious nut?” I asked.

“Let’s just say they’re a hell of a lot more devout than I am.” he replied.

I sighed. Great. Just when I thought I was safe, I find out I’m living with a cult of religious freaks. I asked Jim why he was staying here. He shrugged and asked me if I knew of any better places to be. Good point.

We suddenly heard a commotion coming from the church. I sprinted to the building to find everyone vacating like there was a fire. I pushed against the crowd when I heard someone scream the word “infected.”

As I came through the entrance, I saw a commotion between the pews. I drew my .44 and approached cautiously. Dietz and two men stood staring slack-jawed at the scene, their weapons hanging uselessly at their sides. As I came even with the row of high-backed benches I saw a man hunched over a woman’s body, pulling at it. Blood was everywhere.

The man looked up, glaring at me with milky eyes. It was Jonathan, clearly infected. I shot him through the forehead without hesitation. I fired a second round into the top of the woman’s head, and scanned for more targets.

The booming gunfire snapped Dietz out of his daze and he looked at me with fear and anger. “You just killed somebody in the house of God.” he admonished.

“Shut the f--k up!” I snarled.

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