Day by Day Armageddon (18 page)

  Opening it, I realized how long it had been since all of this started. The bar was long stale. No matter, I needed energy. On the toy aisle, I found a small teddy bear, and put it in the pack. After eating the candy, I started looking for my escape.

  I was at the main entrance doors. The chain was a standard, heavy steal chain. I didn't want to walk in front of the doors, in case I had to use this way as a way out. There was no way I would get that heavy steel Master lock off without either shooting it, or hitting it a hundred times with an axe. I grabbed some duck tape
off
the store shelf. Quietly, (not that it mattered over the sound of the creatures in the back banging) I taped up the bottom section of the glass door, making sure that I was not seen.

  It took a few minutes but soon the whole section was covered. Then, using the fire extinguisher from behind the counter, I bashed it outward. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but still too loud for me. Quickly, I headed back the way I came, through the wooded area toward the marina parking lot. I had been gone for over an hour. I ran through the woods. I was nearly sprinting. I could see the clearing ahead of me.

  There were two of them in the woods in front of me. I ducked them and kept running. When I hit the clearing, my heart stopped. There were so many of them. I skirted the parking lot, avoiding attention. I had no choice but to make myself known. I ran out toward the dock, and I knew that they saw me. Their orchestrated moans bounced off the water and echoed from all directions.

  I was in flight mode. I called out to William. No sight of the boat. I kept running. Still no boat. Looking back, I could see them all converging on the dock. No way out. I had ten feet of dock left, and the things were twenty feet from my position. They were so hungry. They were rotted, putrid evil. In their frenzy, they knocked their fellow brethren into the water, just to be the first to eat my flesh. I turned, and ran.

  I dove into the water and started swimming away. I did the sidestroke for a full minute before I started treading water and looking back toward the dock. The dock was full of bodies, so full that many fell off from lack of standing room. 'There I was, trending water, alone. I kept imagining that there was something below the water tugging on my boots. It was terrifying.

  Then came the hum of an engine. I still had all my gear strapped to my body, but it is surprising how easy it is to float if you just blow some air into your clothing. I waved excitedly at the boat. It was William. He saw me.

  The boat went to idle and drifted over to my position with the engine still running. I handed William my pack, and my rifle from the water. I then pulled myself on board. William told me that the parking lot filled shortly after I left. He had no choice but to try and drive them away from the marina for my safety. I checked my backpack; only a little water seeped into the freezer bags. Not enough to hurt their contents.

  We headed back to John, Jan, Laura, and Annabelle. I was wet, cold and without the food I set out to get.

  I spent yesterday and today fighting off a cold from my recent swimming adventure and also cleaning and drying my rifle. Only in a world like this could a cold mean a death sentence. It's not bad, I just feel weaker than normal and a little fever. Jan advises against using any antibiotics unless in dire need, as she claims the body would get used to the medication and it would do no good in the future if really needed. Jan also tended to the new arrival, Tara. Tara had been trapped in that car for four days. She was on the verge of dying from dehydration when William and I showed up. She was feeling better. Tara had made sure she stayed hydrated and in bed.

  I caught her looking at me a few times today. She didn't catch me, but I did the same. She was attractive, and I am human. I overheard her conversation with Jan about how she got to the dock. 'Trapped in her house in Austwell, she saw an opportunity for escape. She made it to the marina and was spotted by three of them while looking for a boat to escape on. She had no choice but to seek shelter in the nearest unlocked car she could find. Tara was a marketing major at a local junior college. She commented on how none of it mattered and figured that her marketing career was now over before it started. Both women laughed at this.

  William and John took the boat out and caught ten fish yesterday. John was up to it and I figured some sun would do him good. Laura asked me how my trip to the store went. I told her it went fine, and that I was sorry I didn't find her anything to eat. She said it was ok and that her daddy didn't bring her anything back from the trip anyway. I remembered the bear. I gave it to William so he could sun dry it before giving it to her, as it got wet when I jumped in the water to escape the creatures. I told Laura not to be sad and that he had a present for her and he was just waiting for the right time to give it to her. She smiled and walked off to investigate.

  Raw fish isn't my favourite entree, but millions of Japanese can't be wrong. Well, maybe there are a million of them left, I wouldn't know. Once again, my personal groundhog day is coining, and I dread leaving again. We need a better existence, and a better place to live.

  Around the table we were, like knights of old, discussing our battle plans. Jan, Tara, John, William and myself discussed at length all possibilities for finding a new place to live. An island strong hold has a certain mystique and attraction, however we ruled this out due to the constant need to travel to the mainland and scavenge. Where would a defensible position exist that was not near a major city?

  There was a large map of the United States on the wall in the gift shop. It had no detail, just rivers and state lines and capital cities. I pulled the map off the wall, and we all studied it at length. My own selfish reasons kicked in, and I suggested we take a boat along the coastline and cruise up the Mississippi river to find a suitable location (would be nearer to my parents). That was one option. William suggested we go by land to avoid the catastrophic effect of boat mechanical failure. John suggested sailing along the coast around southern Florida, and straight to the Bahamas.

  Everyone smiled at that idea, but it goes back to having a limited supply of goods and the need to scavenge. We were safe for now, as all the noise our boat engine has been making on our fishing/scavenging trips has been fooling them to other parts of the island, but this wouldn't last forever. We needed a more permanent place to live.

  We are all playing poker tonight as a morale booster. Lara, Annabelle, and "tubby" the teddy bear have other plans, they are playing house.

  We have been living off of fish the past few days. I found a propane cooking plate on one of the larger boats in the marina, and finally had some cooked meat. We have different food now. I ventured out on the island today with William. We took the
Bahama Mama
out west along the island coast to find some food. According to my map, Matagorda Island is roughly 25 miles long and two to three miles wide. I thought about rigging a sound device up by remote as a distracter for these things, as to draw them to a certain point on the island while William and I explore other parts. John is working on the idea.

  William and I found something of interest today. We must have went ten miles west along the coast when something appeared inland behind some trees. It looked like some sort of tower. When we got closer, it became apparent that this was the island's lighthouse. It was a large black spire, rising up roughly one hundred and fifty feet, with a large glass lens room at the top. At the base of the lighthouse stood the keepers home, I assume. This area seemed secluded, but I knew it wouldn't be longer than a couple hours before the sound of our engines would bring them to our general location.

  We dropped anchor ten feet from dry land. I jumped out into the ankle high water. It was warm. This area was more rural than the marina area. The upside to this is, less living population, less dead population. The downside was that the trees were blocking my view to most of the area around the lighthouse.

  William had gotten better with the 22 rifle the past few days. We were down to 700 22 rounds for his weapon, and I only had 450 223 rounds (a little target practice for me also). We crept up to the wooded area around the lighthouse. Something was making noise though. The closer we got to the structure, the louder the noise was. It was a constant, even interval banging noise, but still no visual sign of the un-dead. We were at the clearing. The lighthouse looked very old. I'm sure at one point its flat black paint was glossy, but years of salt air and rain have made their mark. The house attached to the bottom of the lighthouse seemed more modern. Three months worth of weeds and grass grew in the yard. The banging noise was obviously coming from the direction of the lighthouse.

  We moved in. I kept signalling him to check our flank, as to avoid a possible rear assault.

  
Bang.
.
Bang
…
Bang
… The noise kept on, similar to the timing of a second hand on a clock. William and I walked the perimeter of the lighthouse/house. It was obvious the direction the noise was coming from. The basement access door on die backside of the house was shaking with every pound made below. I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but I knew what was down there.

  I knew the door was secure (for some odd reason from the outside) and whatever was down there would stay down there until the door rotted of the hinges, or I let it out. We approached the front door to the house. It was not locked, but the windows were hoarded up, which, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out. I carefully turned the knob and flung the door open and both of us jumped back, aiming our weapons. We must have looked ridiculous.

  The house smelled of rotting flesh. Not good. I almost wanted to say "fuck it" and just live off of fish for the rest of my life, but I was here, and we all needed food and supplies. The floor of this seaside dwelling was old and wooden. Every creek sounded like thunder. We were in the living room. I whispered to William, "Do you think there is a door to the basement inside the house?" He wasn't sure. I hoped there wasn't. On the floor, I noticed dried blood. It led to the hallway. Bloody handprints were apparent, and looked as if someone or something dragged itself into the hallway.

  I went first, and William followed. Rounding the corner to the hall, I noticed that the blood trail curved into what I thought was a bedroom. I followed it. Heart pounding, sweating, scared. I was at the door where the trail led. The door was shut, and dried bloody handprints were all over the bottom half of it. I listened and reached for the knob. No sound. I quietly turned the knob and opened the door an inch, and rot hit my nostrils. I could see a pair of legs clothed in dirty jeans lying on the bed. I walked in. I saw what was left of a man, I think. His plaid shirt and denim were caked with blood, and his head from the nose up was gone. Maggots infested the open wounds, and I could see his skin move from the crawling larva underneath.

  A twelve gauge hunting shotgun sat on his chest. Pulling the shotgun from his rotting grip, I noticed a yellow piece of paper with writing in black ink…

  I handed the note to William. None of us spoke for the next few minutes. The shotgun was a nice find, and so were the three boxes of shells on the dresser. We checked inside the dresser, in the sock drawer and found a 357 Smith and Wesson revolver with a box of fifty shells. Next was the kitchen. The canned goods, cooking oil and spices and anything else non-perishable were coining with us. There wasn't as much food as 1 expected to find. The incessant banging kept on relentlessly. Claudia wasn't giving up.

  I remembered seeing a wheelbarrow around back near the basement door. I took it to the front and William and I filled it with our findings. I told William my thoughts about the basement, and that I here may be more food and weapons down there. We agreed to open the door and take care of Claudia.

  William volunteered to open the door and let me shoot. Carefully, he slid the "t-handle" lock up, out of the concrete sleeve, unlocking the door, the hanging continued. She didn't know we were here, she just knew she was hungry and wanted out. I dreaded looking at her.