Dark Recollections (33 page)

Glad I am not in the cities Mr. Journal. I can make do with my suburban lifestyle. Even if my carbon footprint is much larger than if I was to be in the city. I wonder what all the assholes paranoid about global warming are worried about right now, assuming they’re still alive somewhere. I’d drop a paycheck that their number one issue is global rampant undead cannibalism. That or the distinct lack of patchouli incense. I’m thankful that soapbox got kicked out from under people. Not that I’m not all for saving the world from ourselves. I just hate people.

Something that always bothered me about zombie movies was dental hygiene. You ever sit down and watch a zombie movie, and at the moment that the person resurrects, they sit up, do this animalistic hiss, and bare their teeth? You tell me Mr. Journal how many of those hissing, teeth baring zombies have brown or black teeth when they sit up and do that shit.

They fucking ALL DO! It makes no sense. It’s like wearing a condom when you piss. Doesn’t make any sense. Why did so many special effects guys paste on brown and black sludge onto their actor’s teeth? I mean, after some time, sure the zombies are going to have crappy teeth. I have yet to see a zombie brush their teeth. They have so much to do! There’s no time to brush.

They have 24 full hours of shuffling around and stalking living prey to do. No breaks allowed. God help us all if the zombies decide to form a labor union. Local Zombie 403. Shortly after that the fuckers will have a good health plan too I bet.

Zombies have the same dental quality in death that they had in life. Just wanted to clear that up if anyone was still curious Mr. Journal. Tell all your friends. Tell them twice if you have to.

On a more literal and informative note, I have been lazy. My thumb has been really sore, but was a little better at the end of yesterday. After my pre-school shotgun spree on Monday I didn’t have it in me to clear houses. I don’t think I would’ve been able to pull the trigger on a zombie if I’d run into one. Just too much stress built up after killing those two kids in that house.
 

So yesterday I took it easy. I ran the generator all day to keep nice and warm, and I tended to my plants, which are now sprouting a little bit. I feel like a proud papa. Otis has been a little bitch about it though. I’ve caught him several times now sniffing the baby plants, and whenever he does that to something, eating it is usually not far behind. I’ve moved the plants into their own room upstairs, which I’m now calling the greenhouse. I know, clever.
 

Other than tending my plants yesterday I didn’t really do much. Decent weather, as in no snow, rain, or sleet, but the temperature is 20F. If you aren’t aware Mr. Journal, that’s testicles into ice cubes cold. It’ll get worse this winter too. I can feel it in my bones. And right on cue, it started to drizzle outside. Sigh.

During my lazy day Tuesday I fired up the Playstation, and stared at about five hours of Prince of Persia. I have a hard time getting into the violent games right now. If I want a first person shooter, I’ll walk the fuck outside and make some noise. Lately, I want something unreal and fantastic. Knights in shining armor. Cubes falling from the sky into piles on the floor. I don’t know. I just know I’m sick of hearing guns go off in the real world. Plus there’s a big part of me that doesn’t want to get into the habit of shooting like a video game teaches you.
 

In the real world, running, jumping, crouching, and firing incessantly gets you killed almost immediately. At the very least you burn through ammo much faster than you need to, or can afford to. I don’t want my good weapon habits ruined by a stupid video game.

I’ll probably change my mind though when I get a hankering to play through Fallout 3 again. I really wish Fallout New Vegas came out before the shit hit the fan. I was really looking forward to that game. Shrug. Lots of things I was looking forward to. I always wanted to see the Pyramids too.

There is a certain satisfaction I get whenever I do something that I don’t want to do. I remember back in college I frigging hated writing papers, but when I buckled down, and fired up the laptop and got it done, I always felt good about it. I got a more thorough satisfaction from doing the things I didn’t want to do too. Doing the shit I wanted to do had no reward really. It was what I wanted to do, and was a reward all in itself. Crossing something unpleasant off the to-do list meant I had been a good little person, and that I had done something because it had to be done, not because I wanted to do it. It validated my work ethic.

I feel that way about clearing houses. I hate doing it with a passion now, but it needs to be done to secure the area for my safety, and the safety of any people who wind up joining me up here. Plus I’ve accumulated a wide array of loot here that will help me survive not only much longer, but in a higher comfort level. Better food, better tools, better clothes, etc.

I did three houses on Auburn Lake Road today. That drops the grand total remaining on Auburn Lake Road down to 2 houses. I plan on doing those remaining two tomorrow. That means all that I have left are the 9 houses on Jones Road, and the 7 houses on Prospect Circle. Once those houses are done, the entire road and all its tributaries are clear. Exciting, yeah? I know I’m stoked.

So my day today was pretty good all things considered. I was fortunate enough to not find any dead bodies, human or otherwise in them. I also was lucky enough to not have to kill any more zombies, adult or otherwise. Every day that goes by where I don’t shoot a bullet, or swing my little sword is a good day in my book.

What was the haul you ask Mr. Journal? I got a pretty good assortment of canned food, cleaning agents, consumables etc. As far as nice gadgets are concerned, one house had a BITCHING coffee maker. One of the fancy schmancy Italian deals that makes espresso and lattes. It even steams your milk for you. If I had normal milk, that would be awesome. Not sure if it works with the powdered milk though. Same people also had a French press for coffee too. They loved coffee. Fucking loved it. Absolutely adored the shit. I’m happy though because that means as long as I can boil water, I can make coffee with the French press. I can always boil water, even if the generator dies, and even if I run out of gas.

The other two houses had two kind of neat things inside. One of which has absolutely no practical value, but I had to take it anyway because it was cool. The other was radical. As in, “dude, this is RAD.”

I found a baseball card collection. Actually it was a sports card collection. Not a little one either. Eight huge white boxes filled with row after row of meticulously organized sports cards. Each carefully slid into a plastic sleeve and labeled. There were six binders filled with plastic pages to hold cards too. Unreal. I haven’t gone though them yet, but I saw stuff going all the way back to the 1940’s. I saw some Mantle cards too I think. Pretty neat shit. I’m like a historian now, gathering things of value to pass on to future generations. In a strange way, it makes me feel good about raiding these houses. I’ve got the cards stacked up in the living room here so I can sort them when I take a break. Maybe after I finish writing this entry.

The third and final house I did earlier was a bust in terms of food. There was almost nothing left inside, and the place looked like it was cleared out in a big hurry.
 

Right square in their kitchen, pretty as a gold ingot, was a cast iron woodstove. Hallelujah. It’s fucking enormous. Two or three feet deep at least, and probably almost six feet wide. It has burners, a warming shelf, multiple zones for keeping areas of the stove warmer than others… It’s perfect. I just need to figure out how I’m going to get it back here. After I do the last two houses on Auburn Lake I think I’ll try and tackle the stove issue.

I also need to try and find a way to get the damn thing installed somewhere. Do I put it in here to save on the gas, or do I put it in one of the other dorm buildings so that they have adequate heat? I’m leaning towards option B because I don’t NEED a stove in here right now. I shouldn’t have said that. Six hours from now the generator is going to explode. I always jinx myself with shit like that. Wish me luck on that regard Mr. Journal. I need to figure out how to install the pipes, and make sure I don’t set the floor or walls on fire as well.
 

Unless I meet and befriend the Hulk over the next few days, I will have to find a way to take the stove apart and transport it back piece by piece. Should be no sweat right? And there’s my second jinx of the entry. Man I am stupid sometimes. If I’m not careful I’ll keep talking like this and find a way to give myself the Clap from jerking off. I’ll be the first motherfucker in the post apocalyptic world to find a way to get an STD all by myself. Sigh.

So yeah, that’s where we are today. Few added supplies, a new coffee maker of epic proportions, a giant stack of baseball cards to sort through, and a located woodstove. It’s exciting. I like days like today. They give me that fictional thing… you’ve heard of it I’m sure.

Hope.

-Adrian

- About The Author -

C
HRIS
P
HILBROOK is the creator and author of
Adrian’s Undead Diary
as well as the popular webfiction series
Elmoryn
and
Tesser: A Dragon Among Us
.

Chris calls the wonderful state of New Hampshire his home. He is an avid reader, writer, role player, miniatures game player, video game player, and part time athlete, as well as a member of the Horror Writers Association. If you weren't impressed enough, he also works full time while writing for Elmoryn as well as the world of Adrian’s Undead Diary and his newest project, Tesser; A Dragon Among Us.

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. Meet Tesser, the Dragon. He who walks in any form, and flies the skies free of fear. He has slept for millennia, but now he has awoken in a world ruled by human hands, where science has overshadowed even the glory of old magic. Follow Tesser as he seeks to understand why he slept for so long, and where all the magic has gone. Visit
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