The Failed Coward (41 page)

Seasonal businesses aren’t stocked up for long periods of time. They only carry enough food and supplies to last their season. Granted, most grocery stores turn their inventory quickly, but there was a mass exodus from here, and I’m certain now that more food was left behind here than bought and transported away.

I wonder if all those folks that escaped here and headed up there found themselves fighting each other over the scraps of an empty town, incapable of hosting all the people that suddenly arrived there? I wonder if the National Guard there had to put boot to ass to enforce order, and things got out of hand?

It could’ve been much, much worse there than how it was here. I’ve seen that the worst of this nightmare can come from living as well as the dead.

It certainly explains why people would leave the relative safety of nowhere to return to the towns and cities they left behind that they had to suspect were now filled with the walking dead. I mean, how bad does it have to be for you to leave where you’re holed up to come here?

*shudder*

Back to Mike being the fucking man. When we wrapped up the field work Melissa invited us all to Hall B for dinner, and we sat and shared a nice big meal of the very last remainder of the venison and rabbit we had. Mallory sat next to me and I am pretty sure she was role playing the part of a chipper-shredder as she ate that meat. Gobbled that stuff right down. Fairly sure I got hit with spatter too.

When we were about done with the food, Mike said he had brought another crate of .223 for us, which was phenomenal news. Amping up our 5.56mm stores by 1700 rounds or whatever is a very nice cushion to rest on. I also mentioned the fact that we were short an IOTV vest, and I shit you not, he took the vest he had worn earlier and handed it to me. I asked him what he and folks needed, in exchange, and he said not to worry about it. With a constant supply of water, support, and good meals, he said we were square on it.

I coulda kissed him.

It’s heartwarming to see the good side of human nature. I think living in a world of shit enhances the moments where we genuinely are good people to one another. Mike wouldn’t take no for an answer on it, and I was at a loss for words. He is such a good person. Hector is a phenomenal guy, and despite the fact that LaFrenz wouldn’t say shit if he had a mouthful, I like him too. Mallory is badass as well. She’s always making me laugh with her smarmy sense of humor. I can see how she made good money as a stylist before all this bullshit went down. I’m glad she made the trip over. She’s pretty awesome.

They all vacated the premises shortly after our town clearing crew returned. Mike asked for the water (obviously), a few cartons of cigarettes we’ve stockpiled, plus a bottle or two of booze, and a few assorted tidbits of things that are neat and useful. Never underestimate the value of manual can openers in bulk. They don’t last long, and we eat a lot of canned goods. Gospel Mr. Journal. Write that shit down. 

Gilbert, Gavin and Patty were on the road today, and due to a lack of muscle, they simply cleared a few houses. Gilbert was complaining about his toes, which he hasn’t mentioned in some time. To be honest, I’d forgotten they got smashed up at the daycare. We’ve had raw, wet weather lately, and I suspect that’s fucking with him. He’s moving around good, just bitching up a storm. Their loot return was mediocre, but they did find a house with a Ruger 10/22, which is a sweet find for us. Very nice rifle for the armory.

I definitely missed out on something though, because after Mike and Hector and Mallory and LaFrenz left, everyone was looking at me like I was retarded or something. It was totally one of those “are you an idiot?” moments, but I can’t figure out what was up. I asked them why they were all looking at me, and to a one, they all just shook their heads and walked away.

Shrug. I wish women didn’t do the whole “hinting” thing. Neither Abby nor Patty would come out and say why they were looking at me funny and shaking their heads.

Damn women and their subtle gestures.

Tomorrow we have vowed to clear the auto parts store so Blake can get supplies to start up Mike’s Automotive again. I’m hoping this is also a gesture that he will appreciate and understand the full importance of. I’m still not entirely sure he’s with us, but I’m hoping this is the nail in the coffin of uncertainty. Blake has assured us multiple times that the auto parts store is largely free and clear of the undead, but everything has changed with people returning to town.

The day after that we are setting up a safe house. We’ve picked one of the houses we’ve already cleared that’s right on Main Street. It’ll see a lot of traffic, and hopefully it’ll allow us a safe way to start up conversation with other survivors that have been here all along, or some of the survivors that are now just returning to the town.

Either way, we’ll be out and about and minus Abby, which leaves us a good gun short. I hate the idea now of rolling out without her eyes and trigger covering my ass. Everyone else is good to go, but I hate leaving a quality gun behind.

I’m still waiting for my mistake to cost us.

It’s coming. My dread waxes and wanes, but it hasn’t disappeared.

-Adrian

April 27
^th

Did I ever tell you the story about how I got shot in the chest?

It’s a shitty story.

I’ll tell it now.

I was out setting up a safe house downtown today. And I got shot in the chest. 

Awesome story huh? 

Having a lot of trouble breathing. My lungs are on fucking fire, and my torso feels like I’ve been skewered with a rusty fucking crowbar. I’m fucking A lucky that I was wearing my vest, because if I wasn’t, April 25th would’ve been the end of this story, and that’s kind of a shitty ending. I haven’t gotten laid yet.

I’m on bed rest, as per Gilbert, Patty, Abby, and Gavin’s instructions. Ollie and Melissa I think are still out of the loop, but I can’t be sure. I was rushed up here and tended to pretty much without seeing them.

My head is swimming like a bitch. I need to take something for the pain, but I need to write this all down before I forget, because a lot has happened, and if I pop a couple of vikes to numb the pain and sleep, I might forget it all. I’ll deal with the pain and get this done, even if it takes it me all fucking night.

I have to stay upright. I’m sitting against the headboard of the bed with my black and blue chest as tightly wrapped as I can bear. I struggle breathing at all without the wrap, and now that it’s wrapped tight, I can breathe a teeny bit, and it’s just sore as hell. Lose/lose I suppose.

Yesterday went awesome by comparison. As I said before I think, we went to the auto parts store that Blake has been pining for, and got the bitch cleared out. 

The auto parts store is just off Main Street near the garden center we cleared the other day. It’s near the post office and some other local businesses that are useless to us now. Greeting cards? Previously awesome. Currently the only thing they are useful for is making a fire.

My head is pounding from breathing all fucked up. Patty and Abby just came in for a few minutes with some soup and a couple of scrambled eggs for me. We’ve got unopened jars of salsa coming out the ass here, and they were kind enough to scoop out a few large spoons of it on the eggs. It’s really quite yummy, but it hurts to swallow. More or less everything from my chin to my balls hurts.

Where was I? The auto parts store is a long building, and I mean deep. It isn’t wide, I think the parking lot for the place is only maybe six cars wide, and that’s the entire width of the building. Depth wise though, it had to be a hundred feet or better to the back door. Does this paragraph make sense? It does in my head.

The entire front of the store was glass, and half of the windows were either smashed out, or had bullet holes in them. From the looks of it, there had been an exchange of gunfire in the street, and later on the window had been busted out so someone could get inside. The giveaway is where the broken glass fell.

The interior of the building was empty of threats, but the streets for a block or so in every direction were cluttered with a fair amount of the dead. Fortunately, they were very spread out, and we started thinning them while on the move in the trucks. About three hundred feet from the auto parts store we felt it was a good idea to stop, and take down everything we saw moving, and then drive a hundred feet, and do the same again. That way we didn’t wait until we were surrounded at the store. I hate not having options, and being surrounded reduces options.

It worked good. Really good actually. It makes me want to build a moving gun platform that we don’t have to leave if we do it again. Shit, we could kill the damn undead with sharp sticks off the back of a semi truck if we put enough brains into it. I’ll add that to the list of shit we should probably do. After we’re healed up.

So yeah, lots of dead zombies. I forget exactly, but I think between all of us we came back with 10 empty AR/M4 magazines from that site, which is at least 300 rounds expended, and that’s not counting any sidearm fire. We are almost one shot, one kill efficient now, so I’d guess we put down a solid 250+ dead. They’re fucking everywhere downtown now. We can’t shit without wiping our ass on a zombie it seems. Seems like it is getting worse every day.

At any rate, we were down Abby yesterday due to her finger, and when we pulled up to the shop and cleared it we had to split our group down the middle. Patty and Gilbert stayed outside to pull security while Gavin and I made sure it was safe inside. We went extra slow and careful due to the increased undead presence, proximity to downtown, as well as the broken windows. There was no telling how many were inside.

None, if you’re curious Mr. Journal. Vehicle parts are apparently not high on the list of things that draw the undead.

Once we felt we had a clear building, and a largely secure perimeter, we started taking shit out by the box full and armload. We took lots of electronics, sparkplugs, brake pads, oil filters, fuel additives, blah blah. We left the large shit like mufflers and whatnot behind for the moment because it’s all so subjective. We really only need the parts that apply to the vehicles we have, and we don’t know which of the parts in the store are the right ones, so there’s little sense in taking everything at this juncture. We can always return later for the parts needed for major repairs.

Do you vaguely remember me talking about the largest apartment building in town? I think I talked about it the day we all went to the grocery store and got on the roof to retrieve the bags of guns? Anyway, there’s a fairly large apartment building in town, and it’s on the same street as the auto parts store. Now back in wheneverthefuckitwasItalkedaboutthebuildingbefore I think I said I saw smoke coming from a few of the apartment windows, or balconies or whatever. I remember saying that because the idea of burning to death in an apartment while undead banged on the door horrified me to the core. When we were leaving the auto parts store, I noticed right at the base of the building a fairly large debris field. 

Garbage. Large amounts of garbage. And as we’ve seen so far, where there is garbage, there are people, or zombies. That told me that in all likelihood, somewhere on the upper floors of the building there are or were survivors. Using the ACOG I went window to window looking for signs of life for nearly a half hour, but I didn’t see shit. We should get back there some time to check it out. Although, a large building like that scares me. Lots of halls, closets, doors, and dark nooks and crannies for the dead to hide in. Lots of danger involved. Filed under: fucked if I care.

All things considered, the trip downtown yesterday was an entire success. 

Today, not so much. We knew last night today was the day we were going to set up a house as a communications point and refuge for folks. As I’ve said a hundred times, we’re calling them “safe houses.” In these houses we are setting up a single walkie, a small supply of fresh water, basic first aid supplies, and a small amount of food and spare clothing. We also decided to put a notebook and pen inside in the event someone stops in, doesn’t want to contact us via radio, but wants to leave a note. Any way we can get information is good we’re supposing. These houses will be set up with signs outside them so folks returning to or passing through will know there are some supplies inside, and that the house is safe.

The idea is we will screen potential campus residents, feed the hungry, hydrate the dry, and give folks worse off than us a safe place, even if it’s only for a short time. We’d chosen a house on our side of town right on Main Street, but not quite in the more built up area. This is was a test run really, and we’ve already discussed altering plans for future safe houses.

We chose a home right near Walt’s nut house. It was close to the road, had good parking, a large U shaped driveway that you could pull into, and out of quickly if needed, and the windows on the street side were a good distance above the ground. All in all, it was a fine choice.

We pulled our vehicles into that huge driveway and began the process of setting the house up. I think we started fairly late, maybe noon or so. The morning was spent with us finalizing what we were leaving behind at the safe house, and painting up a huge sheet of ratty plywood as our safe house sign. The sign says “FOOD, WATER, RADIO. SAFE ON APRIL 27
^th
”

We felt putting the date on there was important because who knew how long that sign could’ve sat there for? What if we set up a safe house on October 1
^st
, and it had been overrun ten times since then and we hadn’t updated the sign? We’re thinking we update the thing once a month, or as needed.

Because this was a largely low key op, Gilbert and Abby remained behind. We figured it’d be a quick in and out, maybe taking an hour or two. We really wanted to chill out for an afternoon today. 

I hate making plans. The get ruined so fucking often. I should be spontaneous, so when things go right for me, I’m pleasantly surprised. Not meeting my expectations blows.