The Failed Coward (10 page)

All of that seemed like a fair trade to me. I also confirmed with Mike that if Gavin left to join us, he’d keep his Guard gear and weapons. Mike said of course. They had spare gear anyway and his stuff could go with him. Incidentally, that in and of itself is almost worth telling the kid to move for. Another rifle and pistol on the team.

Mike officially extended the offer that if we bagged another deer, and wanted to have a cookout, he’d guarantee ten people would make the trip to help with manual labor. He was thinking of helping to build walls on campus, as well as fortifying other building windows and even working with Ollie to get the crops planted when we got to that point. I thought that was a hell of an idea, and I was down for it. So if I get another deer in the near future, we’ll arrange a badass cookout, and hopefully get this damn work done.

Everyone took off after that. Abby and Gavin looked like they were on cloud nine after getting some time alone together. I just hope they were responsible young adults and did their jobs, and if they took a break to insert tab A into slot B then they used a condom, or a very effective pullout maneuver. As I said, another baby would suck, almost as much as having to take Abby out of the rotation for dangerous work.

We decided that March 31
^st
would be our next meeting, and that we would make the trip to Westfield to visit them. Of course it’s almost impossible to deliver the water to them that way, but Mike said that was fine. All the rain we’ve gotten has curtailed their fresh water demands. He reiterated their need for hygiene products, and he also suggested that if we could get more canned fruits that’d be swell. (we’ve got a ton in the cafeteria, which is great)

And with that, they departed. I’m happy right now. It was a great few days here, and I feel like things are on the upswing. I’m sleeping good, I’ve got a new amazing fucking bed, we got fresh food again, and it looks like we’re adding new people who can really add something to the little family we’ve got.

Mr. Journal I am also aware of the fact that every time things start to look good, things go south like a motherfucker. Maybe I should curb my enthusiasm? Shut my pie hole and be a curmudgeony bitch?

Argh. Life sucks!

I hate… whatever it is I need to hate to satisfy karma.

-Adrian

March 16
^th

It occurs to me I need a frigging plan here. Like, a good plan too. I’m sick of this stumbling through life with a perpetually confused look on my face. I move from infuriating moment to joy, back to pain, over to happiness, and wind up slowly pushing a series of turds down the drain with my big toe, and hoping nothing peanutty scratches my skin. I'm doing okay, but I'm doing far too much last second winging it.

I have hatched a devious plan for the next few weeks. Warm weather is coming, and things here on campus seem to have quieted down to the point where I feel like we can do shit outside without level 10 danger alerts every moment. I have no scale incidentally for that level 10 alert. I’m just implying that level 10 is bad with that Mr. Journal. It’s probably safe to assume that a level 1 alert is something like, “I had too much coffee this morning, and I can’t really trust a fart today.”

Actually depending on how much coffee you drink, that could probably rise to a level 4, or a level 5 emergency. Okay, let’s say… I can’t find my fingernail clippers is level 1. Impending doom via zombies is level 7, and “holy shit, I’m looking at five hundred zombies marching at me right now, and I have no reasonably strong structure to hold up in, or anything convincing to hide under,” is like level 10. That gives us a scale to work with.

So my plan consists of several phases that need to be done in a fairly certain order. Our standing orders are to fortify campus as best we can, when we can. My priority with that is making Hall B zombie proof. We will be fortifying the lower doors and windows immediately. We actually started the job yesterday. We also need to replace the window on the second floor that busted out. Remember that Mr. Journal? Cascade of teenage girl zombies? Blech. That whole dorm room is soaked from rain and snow to the rafters, and we might need to yank up the floor to purge it.

Once the doors are fortified, and all the windows on the lower level and basement are secured, it’ll be pretty much safe for human habitation. We need to get the generator placed in the basement too, but that’s peanuts all things considered. 

We need to source a woodstove for Hall B as well. The kitchen/dining area would be a great spot for one, as would be the central foyer so the heat can rise up to the second floor. I can envision little redheaded kids running up and down the central staircase in there too. Makes me happy and warm and fuzzy and stuff.

Next on the agenda is to hit that daycare like the zombie baby apocalypse. For them I mean, not for us. We could use any supplies contained inside, and the thought of having any undead children inside sours my milk. Worst case, it’s another cleared building. Best case, we score some baby food, formula, diapers, baby wipes, regular food, baby clothes, whatever. And in actuality, this is the first time I’ve even considered the fact that we need baby clothes. I guess it’s not a desperate need, but if we need to hustle out to escape, I’d rather any little tykes we have not be butt nekkid.

After we hit the daycare, I want to start heading deeper into downtown to recon. I know from what Brian said this side of town hadn’t been touched by his people, and if my memory serves, we’ve got something like 200 homes left in that area. Never mind any businesses that may have survived looting. I’m sure by this juncture there are other survivors that at one point or another looted places, but with any luck they’re either still alive and hopefully willing to join forces, or they’re dead, and what remains of the shit they stole is at their houses. Yeah, I’ll concede that’s a dick thing to say, but it’s the reality of the matter.

I want to return to STIG. I’m sure there are still usable scraps left behind. I’m also curious if there are any items worth taking from the surrounding businesses in the industrial park. Even shit like pallet jacks would be REALLY nice. If we can get a semi rig up here too… sweetness would ensue. My kingdom for a forklift. Preferably an electric one, but I’ll manage with a propane powered one if need be.

Shitty news is the lumber business in town went out a couple years ago when Home Depot moved in a few towns over, so bulk lumber will be hard to find locally. I might be able to find some at some of the new constructions on the outskirts of town though. I know there was a housing development getting started out there last summer, and with any luck at all… their wood was covered and well protected. If we can score a truckload of good lumber, our lives would become much simpler. There’s always the idea of building a concrete wall, but we’d need a lot of blocks, and those take a fairly long time to set up. Regardless of the specific building supplies we use, good fences make for good neighbors, and distant zombies.

Tomorrow we hit the daycare. I’m scared to do it, but it’s necessary. I feel it in my bones that we need to find out if that place is filled with dead children, and if it is, then we need to handle it like adults. If it’s clean, then we take what we can, and get the fuck out.

After the daycare, we start to look at re-visiting STIG. After STIG, if that goes well, then we can recon town, and if that goes well….

I’d like to go back to my home, and see if Cassie made it back there before she died.

Closure ftw?

-Adrian

March 18
^th

I didn’t have the energy or the will to sit down and talk about what happened at the daycare after we got back last night. I assure you, it was a draining experience. I’ll go into it at length in a moment.

Today was a day for us to unwind, and scour the memories of that place from our collective heads. Yesterday was a douche bag day, and today we douched out yesterday’s memories. As fresh as a summer’s eve, if you will.

Much like yesterday, we dealt with fire today. We relit the last embers of the giant pyre in the staff housing area of campus. The enormous pile of bodies has been burning for so long I can’t even remember when we lit it originally. After today’s work getting a good flame going, I think the corpses will be destroyed within a day or two. We had to use a large portion of the firewood we’d chopped up for the woodstove in Hall A, as well as another gallon of our precious gasoline to get it started. The damn rain and sleet and shit we’ve been dealing with have hampered the flames hardcore. Driving me up a wall here.

While Abby and I were doing that, Gilbert and Patty sorted out the shit we brought back from the daycare. Gilbert was useless with his injury though, and from what Patty said, he more or less hung around bitching, and making a terrible effort at lending moral support. I think he’ll heal up nicely (or at least adequately), but at his age, it’s anyone’s guess as to how long it’ll take.

My trusty sidekick and I hit the smokehouse, and made sure the flames were burning slow and that there was plenty of smoke. We wound up having to trudge back into the outskirts of campus to find enough of the right kind of branches to ensure the smoke would be adequate to cure the meat. Pain in the ass mucking through all the damn snow-sludge. It’s a wonderful consistency right now. Always finds a way to get into your boot and soak your socks.

Our labors completed for the day, we retired to help Patty finish sorting bullshit, and to have a decent sit down meal. We forced Gilbert to stay here last night as well as tonight, and he’s holding a grudge about it. I can hear him again tonight bitching under his breath a few rooms down the hall. He’s so damn funny. It’s just like dealing with the kids.

Yesterday. 

Yeah. About that.

Hm. I’d say we geared up for the apocalypse, but that’d be doing everything we do when we go out on a normal day no justice. I should say that we rolled out with much more gear than normal. Extra ammo, extra food, extra medical supplies, spare fuel, and a few new additions to our battle plans. As I said we’ve accumulated new IOTV armor from Mike. That’s heavier duty military issue body armor. I’m rocking it, and Abby is wearing our second set. I haven’t had a chance to sight in the M4 Mike gave us the other day, and until I know how it shoots, I’m not taking it anywhere. Thus, I rolled with the M15, Patty with the Tac .22, Abby with her handgun assortment, and Gilbert rocked his AK. Oh yeah, I also brought my trusty 12 gauge and I made sure there were halligans on the truck as well. Go me.

Abby made a funny offhand comment about taking on the herd of “undead ankle biters” right as we were about to leave, and it suddenly hit me that we had shin guards in one of the athletics storage closets somewhere. Don’t know why, but it seemed vitally important to bring them. It took me twenty minutes to find them, but it turned out to be well worth it. We all strapped a set of girl’s shin guards on our legs, and Patty and Abby actually took the time to fashion half assed forearm guards out of a set of them in the truck on the way to the daycare. I think they’re planning on actually making more professional versions soon. I’m all for it. They seem to stop bites pretty effectively.

We rolled in two vehicles down to the daycare. Once again, there are no good reasons to go in a single vehicle unless we have to. Because we wanted something diesel powered and beastly, we took the Heavy Rescue Truck, and Gilbert drove his Chevy. The girls all rode with me in the HRT and Gilbert drove himself. 

Our plan was the same as every other house clearing. Recon the exterior of the building on all sides and ensure the vicinity was clear from threats. Check in all the windows of said building to ensure we had a better idea of what was going on inside. Open the front door, and clear the house, room by room, one panic stricken heartbeat at a time. Loot building for anything usable. Leave building.

The first few phases went like clockwork. Abby bounded across the snow to check the sides and back of the daycare and the rest of us made sure the streets and vicinity were safe. When we drove up, there were no undead anywhere to be seen, which gave all of us the creeps. The proverbial calm before the storm, as it turns out.

Abby took a solid ten minutes to check all the windows of the daycare, and just like last time she returned saying there was nothing visible anywhere inside the building. I wasn’t comforted by that, and neither was Gilbert. We had visions of zombified children hiding under little plastic play tables and inside counters and cabinets. *shudder*

Gilbert pulled road security for us while the rest of us kicked in doors. I went #1 in the stack with Patty and Abby. I rolled with the gauge, they went with pistols. Brace yourself for this Mr. Journal: There were no children in the daycare. Sort of. The stench was overwhelming though, which was a real kick in the pants. Usually that much stink meant a plethora of undead, but there were none to be found. See: sort of. See also: God hates Adrian.

I kicked in the doors that were locked, and opened the doors that weren’t. Not one shotgun blast happened the entire time we went from room to room. We had some pants wrecking moments when items were bumped off shelves or tables and they fell on the floor, or hit one of us, but we encountered jack and shit overall. See again: Sort of.

After the most tense half hour in my entire life, we started to take stock of our haul. The ground clearance on the HRT and the Chevy is pretty impressive, and with the snow melt, we were able to drive them both across the parking lot/driveway and right up the front door. I had to shovel out the walkway and the steps, and I tell you what, I’m glad Patty thought to grab one of our snow shovels. We snagged two cribs, a bunch of toys, a stroller, 17 boxes of diapers in various sizes and flavors, baby wipes, baby oil, baby powder, baby shampoo, baby aspirin, books on how to raise kids and deal with health ailments, Pedialyte, etc etc. And then there were snacks. Jumping Jesus there were snacks. They had fruit roll ups, granola bars, crackers, candy, and almost every form of small fruit snack imaginable to man. We took it out of there by the case.