Day by Day Armageddon (19 page)

  William grabbed the handle and was about to pull when I told him to wait. There was a safer way. I told William to find some rope or twine in the house. After a few minutes, he came back with a ball of knitting yarn from one of the spare bedrooms. I had him double it up and tie it to the handle and step back fifteen or so feet. I gave him the signal, and he yanked the doubled up yarn, pulling the door open.

  There she was… rotted, putrid, evil. Her rotting milky eyes locked onto us and what was left of her lips curled back over her yellow, jagged teeth. Her hands were nothing more than bloody nubs from countless hours of impact with the wooden cellar door. She lunged for us. Just as she reached the outside of the doorway, she tripped over the top step and tumbled face first into the ground. I took this opportunity to give her the peace that Frank could not. I shot the back of her head at point blank range, and she was no more.

  The cellar was dark and foreboding. I switched on the flashlight mounted on my rifle. The bright LED light filled the stairwell. Giving my eyes a moment to adjust, I thought about what other horrors could or would be lurking down here in the bowels of this old lighthouse. I stepped down into the darkness and found no creatures, living or dead. Claudia was it. I called William down to help. There were countless mason jars filled with green beans, yams, and other vegetables. There was also a considerable wine selection, and more canned goods.

  It looked as if Frank and Claudia originally held up down here, as a bed, stove and refrigerator were in place, and a Remington 7mm mag. hunting rifle with a scope sat barrel up, propped in the corner. On top of the refrigerator, were two boxes of 7mm shells. We took as much food as we could carry, along with the hunting rifle.

  We filled our packs with the food, weapons and ammunition. The majority of the goods we found went in the wheelbarrow. I took off my pack and told William I would be back shortly. I walked toward the lighthouse. I wanted to go to the top to get a better view and see if we could expect any company. Round and round I went up the spiral staircase to the apex of the spire.

  Reaching the top, I scanned the area. In the direction we came from, (east) I could see maybe twenty of those things milling about in a group headed our general direction. The sound of our boat, and the gunshot were the culprits.

  I judged by their current rate of movement that we had plenty of time to leave. I ran back down the stairs and William and I took turns pushing the wheelbarrow back to the boat. We loaded up the
Mama
and headed back home. We got lucky today.

  I just received a radio broadcast over the Citizen Band radio. 'The person claimed to be a congressman from the state of Louisiana, safe in a bunker a hundred miles north of New Orleans. His voice was rugged and tired. I went on to claim that he had many surviving soldiers of the Louisiana National Guard with him. The reason for his announcement was to warn any possible survivors of the threats posed by the radiation exposed un-dead. Apparently, New Orleans was destroyed in the bombing campaign.

  The congressman had sent out scouts equipped with dosimeters and Geiger counters to survey the damage to the city and the un-dead ranks. Out of the ten sent out, seven returned. The scouts reported to the congressman that the radiation riddled un-dead showed little signs of decomposition, and were faster and more coordinated than their non-irradiated counterparts. The radiation was somehow preserving them.

  John tried to respond to the transmission, however our low power transmitter didn't have the juice to make it that far. Maybe on a low overcast, cloudy day, but not today. Just another thing to worry about.

  Tara is an interesting woman. I have to hand it to her for surviving. I can't begin to imagine her feelings of defeat as she sat in that compact car, and listened to them beat the glass for days. She told me that she spent one whole day attracting them to one side of the car, so that she could crack the window on the opposite side for a few precious seconds of cool air before they shambled back over. I haven’t seen her break down and cry yet, but it is a natural thing, and I'm sure it will come.

  Laura is in her own little world with Annabelle and her teddy bear. I have feelings of dread for the day that will come soon, the day we must move on. I somehow feel like I am responsible for everyone here. It would be too much to bear to lose any of them, however I know that sooner or later, statistics will catch up with us. I have become decently good at chess, and John and I are about fifty-fifty when we play.

  William woke up last night at around 0200. I was awake looking at the map. He told me that he dreamed of our lighthouse trip, and that the woman in the cellar, "Claudia"
didn't
trip in his dream. I thought about what he was getting at, and just tried to put it out of my mind. I haven’t seen any of them since our trip. We have been successful in confusing them with our boat/gunshot noises.

  No transmissions from Louisiana today or yesterday. We have been vigilant in having at least one person within earshot of the radio at all times. I have been in a slump since the lighthouse, so I decided to shave today for morale. Somehow, I feel more… human.

  I have been thinking about how many of them there are. I wonder just how outnumbered we are, and just how much of the professional military was left. I remember the last US census back in 2000, and how they claimed there were close to three hundred million people in the US. I have no way of knowing how many survivors (here are, but I am certain that they outnumber us. I would say that the nuclear campaign cleared out a few million (including the living). I suppose I just don't have enough data for any kind of accurate estimate. Drizzling rain dominates the visibility. Spring is coming and so are the storms.

  We received another transmission from Louisiana. This time, it was very garbled. The voice on the other end claims that all communications with NORAD have ceased. The theory they are posing is that it probably fell from the inside. They are trying to hack a video feed from their command centre north of New Orleans, however attempts to do so have proven unsuccessful.

  John is still drawing up some rough plans for a "distracter" to be used against the creatures. I also asked him to start thinking about a mobile way to charge dead batteries, as I feel that many of the car batteries on the mainland would be as dead as their owners. We are laying the groundwork for escape. To where is not certain.

  We have not been affected by radiation fallout. We should avoid the former major cities, as I'm sure deadly amounts of radiation will exist there. There is also the matter of the information received a few days ago from Louisiana. I can hear them moaning. The wind is carrying it, and it feels like they are right outside the window. I know this is not the case, but the thought of it is very disturbing. It is not a human moan. It sounds like a deep throaty sound, low and unnatural. I need to check the perimeter.

  The creatures cannot swim, however they can "exist" in the water. It was clear outside today and the water was calm. We decided to go outside on the docks to get some sun. I brought my rifle in an attempt to make sure everyone was safe on our outing. Little Laura was looking pale from lack of sun and I just felt guilty that she never got any outside time. I stood, facing the shore as the others took off their shoes and let their feet dangle over the edge of the dock, into the water.

  As I scanned the shoreline, I saw no movement, vice the tormented creatures that were trapped in the hotel room across the street from our location. I checked back over my shoulder and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. They were being quiet, and conscious of the dangers that lurked in the urban area around us. I looked down into the water and noticed something dark moving about under the surface. The dark green seawater restricted my visibility.

  I called John over, and told William to stay and watch the others, and to tell them to get their feet out of the water. On the wall of the marina was a round foam life preserver, similar to the ones seen on ships, and a lifeguard hook for grabbing people out of the water. I glanced at the hook and glanced at John. He brought it over to me as I continued to gaze into the green abyss. I saw it again. Something large was definitely moving under the surface.

  I had John grab my belt and hold me solid as I dipped the long hook into the water, I felt it hit the object. After a few minutes of pulling and tugging, I finally snagged it. As I pulled the rotting thing up through the deep, I lamented over all the fish we had eaten in the weeks prior that had probably fed on this man's body. It was flailing and the mouth gaped and gnashed. As it opened its mouth in an attempt to take a bite out of me, I saw stagnant water pour out of the thing's throat and a low gurgle ensued.

  It had no eyes, as they had surely been eaten weeks before. This thing had been in the water a long time. I pulled it up onto the dock. As the torso cleared the water, it was apparent that the thing had no legs either. It was still dangerous so I decided to quietly dispatch it with a careful knife stab through the left eye socket. Using the hook bar, I held the head still as I carefully slid the knife home, neutralizing the pitiful fuck.

  It would be a long time before I ever decided to take a leisurely swim in any body of water. I slid the dock bridge over to the land using the rope pulley. With the hook pole, I dragged the creature across the street as John covered me with his rifle. Laura saw the creature as I dragged the body away, and started whimpering. I felt bad, and hated the thing even more as I dragged the putrid thing. It left a black stain in the concrete as the slimy corpse grinded across the hot pavement.

  Wind is howling outside. The moans of the creatures seem to be getting louder as the days go by. There are a couple dozen outside the marina "patrolling" the shoreline. Every second they are out there I have to tell myself not to go outside and execute them. There will be 9mm rounds stuck in my ear again tonight, because the noise is maddening. Even in the darkness of the new nightfall, I can still make out the drag marks on the shore of the corpse I killed yesterday.

  We have agreed it is time to move. We set a target date of one week. In the meantime, we will be gathering more supplies and thinking of a suitable location. I have come to realize that if you do not move, you die. Even then you do not die, you exist as them, which is worse.

  We are in the boat. Early this morning at around 0200 hours, a glass cup that Laura had left on the bait counter the night before fell to the floor for no apparent reason. I immediately stood up on my feet, and felt as if I was drunk, and it became difficult to stand up. It felt I was walking up hill toward the broken glass on the floor. I flipped the light switch on, and called to John and William. They too felt disoriented and it finally dawned on me what was happening. I had wondered what took
Murphy's
Law so long to happen. We were sinking. It stormed last night and rocked us around a bit. I suppose lack of maintenance, inspections, and the wrath of nature finally did the job. We woke the others up and I suggested to John and William that they start gathering supplies. I had no idea how long we had before the whole marina bait/gift shop went down. The imbalance of weight vs. buoyancy would eventually snap the lumber support and cause the whole building to sink.

  I had no time to be quiet. I donned the NVGs and immediately began getting the
Mama
ready. The noise I was making, combined with the creaking, overstressed timber of the marina had drawn a crowd. Through the graininess of my optics, I could make out roughly twenty creatures. They were god-awful. I felt in my heart that if that was a hell, these things came from there, and in my imagination I could feel their hot hellish breath all over me.

  Even though I was almost sure they could not see in the dark, many of them were looking in my direction, attuned to the noise, cocking their heads like a confused dog to its master. Most were in intermediate stages of decomposition, and I could not see their eyes through the goggles, only black circles, which added to their ominous horror.

  Jan, Tara, John, William, and myself formed a human assembly line as we passed supplies hand over hand to the boat. Only half an hour had went by and already one of the corners dipped almost two feet into the water, causing the opposite corner to hang out of the water a foot or so. This meant the structure was getting over stressed. I put the muzzle on Annabelle, and carried her, and Laura to the boat and sat them down. The creatures were voicing their demented sounds toward us. I whispered to Laura not to worry and her job was to hold Annabelle, and not let her leave the boat. I handed her the teddy bear and pecked her on the cheek.

  We loaded the boat down to an almost dangerous load bearing weight. It was the lowest I had seen her since we started using it. I helped Jan and Tara into the boat, and told William to stay while John and I made one last "hotel room sweep" of the place to make sure we didn't leave any invaluable items. Satisfied with our sweep we boarded the boat and I fired the engine up. If it were not for Laura, I would have fragged a few of them that instant, if not only but to make myself feel better.