Zomblog II (15 page)

At first, I was a little upset by such a cold statement. But once I got past the bluntness of it, I totally understood. Waiting around these days will get you killed…or worse.

The convoy was picked clean, I even heard a couple single-shots. That would clearly indicate that this group has a “no prisoner” policy. I didn’t ask, but I did wonder; what if there was a recently captured person in that mess? Maybe I just don’t want to know the answer to that. These people have been nothing but accommodating to my little band.

Saturday, February 14

Shari performed an appendectomy today! Now she’s really the
Belle of the Ball
. They did everything but have a damned parade. Almost like it was planned, a hunting party returned with five deer. I wonder if it was the same herd.

It’s sorta weird how the zombies will chase and eat dogs and cats, but deer, horses, cows, they all seem safe.

Sorry…I just started giggling and couldn’t stop for like five minutes. I pictured the zombie version of Elmer Fudd tip-toeing along. Then he stops and says, “Shhh, be vewy, vewy quiet. I’m hunting peoples. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.” Stupid, right? But it just absolutely cracked me up. I had tears in my eyes and everything.

Jenifer showed up when I was in full-on mirth and asked if I was okay. I did a really poor imitation, made worse by my inability to stop laughing. She just shook her head and said that maybe I should drink more fluids because I was delirious. I think I’m getting stir-crazy.

Why can’t I just settle down? I’ve asked myself that question these past couple days. It’s not safe out there. I don’t know what my problem is. I only know that I can’t even imagine the thought of staying put.

Sunday, February 15

I’ve told everybody that I felt had a need-to-know that I will leave tomorrow. I’ve been packing my stuff. Some of the residents took the trouble to come by with gifts. They even let me have a shower this evening with TWO buckets of hot water. Talk about making a gal feel special.

Shari’s been ducking me all day. Jenifer actually spun around and went the other way when she saw me. And I haven’t seen Jonathan since the day we took out those raiders. As for Coach, well, I just couldn’t do that to Hope.

Monday, February 16

I left by myself. Made it all the way to the torched ruins of what was apparently some sort of shopping complex. I think there was a grocery store, a couple of restaurants. All that remains are piles of rubble and the black smudge of what must’ve been an impressive fire.

Then I reached a large field. This was another curiosity. There were the husks of military vehicles scattered about. Also, this is the first time I’ve encountered what looks to have been large cages. Nothing nice could’ve been happening here. There are lots of weathered and decayed carcasses lying about.

I was poking around when I heard a thud. Spinning around, I see this cloud of soot and dust swirling a few feet from a burned out army jeep. I walk over to investigate. A zombie chil—-three, maybe four years old tops—is lying face down with a very neat hole in its head. I start looking everywhere. I hadn’t heard a gunshot.

“
You forgot your crossbow!” Jonathan slid over a dirt embankment.

Seems that one of the folks back at the Transit Fortress heard about my love of the crossbow, but was on patrol and missed out on the opportunity to give it to me personally. Jonathan claims he accidently overslept. He says he will see me to my destination, but then he’s going back. Also, Jenifer has a boyfriend. When the hell did that happen? And why can’t anybody tell me anything?

I guess Shari felt really guilty about “abandoning” me. Maybe if she would’ve talked to me she wouldn’t need to feel guilty. I would’ve told her that I completely understand. She’s found a home. She feels wanted. Also, not everybody feels the need to be on the move.

I have to admit, I am very worried about making it to the warehouse. I am getting slower every day. And if I stare at my belly long enough, I swear I can see it grow. I’m just glad I can’t see my ass, because I’ll bet it is experiencing the same fate.

I’d never tell him to his face, but it was nice to see Jonathan.

Wednesday, February 18

We might make it to the warehouse complex tomorrow morning! Of all the crazy things, Jonathan found a pair of Vespa scooters in the house we camped in last night. After some tinkering he got them both to work. Then, he rigged a hook-up for my cart. Since we’ll be sticking to the highway unless a nasty surprise or an emergency arises, we should be able to make good time.

I am actually nervous. I have a feeling in my stomach that I haven’t had since—well, since
before
all this started. I’m actually writing this by moonlight because I’ve had trouble sleeping, and it’s not because of the baby. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax in any way, shape, or form until I lay eyes on that place.

Thursday, February 19

This place would give the folks back at the Sunset Transit complex a run for their money. It is, in a word, amazing. I’ve met so many people. And so many folks come up to me and simply smile that I feel very self-conscious about the decision that I have yet to tell them regarding the baby.

It seems they found a way to deal with the wall of undead once surrounding the place. In fact, there weren’t even any stragglers when Jonathan and I arrived. And they have excavated a deep moat that runs all the way around the facility. Couple that with razor wire coils and sharpened rods of what look like rebar planted in the concrete basin at the bottom of the moat. And that is just the outer-most ring of protection. Throw in eight armored machinegun towers that look not only like they can withstand rocket attacks, but like they actually have.

They have stills and produce their own version of ethanol to run their generators. Yes, this place has electricity 24/7! Granted, they’re still very frugal. There is nothing wasted here. This place has a three square acre plot just for corn! There are six satellite “gardens” being worked, plus they converted one warehouse into the biggest greenhouse I’ve ever seen. They haven’t eaten anything processed or “canned” in over six months! They have goats, cows, and even horses! I had a glass of milk today! Oh. My. God.

Everybody here works a regular job. This place even has a jail, although they say it has only been used less than a handful of times. (And only once by a member of the community.) At least that is according to the sheriff and mayor, Tom Langston.

While all of this may sound grand, I see a very large prison. These folks claim a five mile perimeter as
their
territory. Jonathan and I even saw signs warning people that they were entering “New Jamestown” and that “passing through is permitted, but staying without autho-rization would be seen as a hostile act.”

The population of New Jamestown is one hundred and eight. Children apparently don’t count until they reach age five. I’ve seen a dozen under that age. There is a school; I met Greg Parker and Crystal Johnson. While there seemed to be some standard stuff on display in the classroom, when I visited, all the students were at one of the ethanol stills. Did I mention that every roof here is lined with solar panels? Oh, and three windmills are under construction.

This all may seem well and good, but I see a push to the “old ways” here that is being sought much faster than anything I’ve witnessed. Out there, it is the Dark Ages. This is like discovering New York City in the middle of the Old West.

It is a lot to process in one day. I’ve given Sam’s journal to Tom. He wanted to make copies. Can you believe it? They can make copies here! He wants to make it available to anybody who would like to read it. He was actually sort of hesitant when he asked…like he was afraid I would say no.

Sam, you may well be the writer of the first “Best Seller” of the new age. Although, technically your book will be given away for free. Still, not bad for a newspaper deliverer and garage band member. I’ve kept
this
journal hidden. It is mine and I don’t think I want to share. And, of course, I want to keep the original of Sam’s.

Jonathan has made it clear, just as I was determined to reach my destination, he is returning to the other place. He says that he doesn’t feel comfortable here. I can’t blame him. Is it possible that these people are
too
civilized? Anyhow, I wished him well. He promised to see me in the morning before he actually leaves. I’ll miss him.

Friday, February 20

Jonathan left today. I’ve been given a list of job possibilities. They told me it was no rush, but I got the feeling these folks are watching me closely. Measuring me.

Saturday, February 21

I’ve met Monica Campinelli, finally. She was out with nine others doing a security and supply run. I guess this place has motion sensors in a few key locations. They have cameras that are activated when the motion sensors are triggered. It is how they keep tabs on their farms.

Additionally, they send regularly scheduled teams out to patrol. They have a communications center which is manned any time that they have a person or persons out in the field. Again, this is way too organized. Some may see this as good, but all I see here is
power
. And power produces envy. There will always be somebody bigger and badder on the horizon. I just can’t shake the uneasy feeling I have.

Back to Monica, she is nice. Tough, but nice. She actually came looking for me. She was holding a copy of Sam’s journal in one hand, a basket of fresh muffins in the other with a little jar of strawberry jam and fresh butter. We sat at a table sipping tea and snacking on muffins, talking about all sorts of stuff.

I told Monica what my intentions are. No, I didn’t tell her anything about The Genesis Brotherhood or the plans I have for them. I told her that I would like for the baby to stay here. I told her that I didn’t want to plant any roots. I also told her that if this place didn’t want the baby, I’d take it to the other place. Monica sat silently the entire time I spewed all of this out.

Before I knew it, I was babbling about what happened at the hands of the Sparrow Falls people—and I use the word ‘people’ loosely. I told her stuff that I don’t think I’ve spilled to anybody about what they did to me. I don’t know what it was. I just started talking to this woman and everything poured out.

After I was done, and it took a while, she gave me this look. It wasn’t condemning, or judgmental, or even slightly disapproving. She told me that everything would be fine and that the baby would be welcome. She even said that I could interview a few potential parents and
choose
who the baby will be given over to for raising.

I was exhausted when it was all over. Monica told me that Dennis VanDelay will want to give me a check-up tomorrow, and that she would be there for it as well. I also told her that I’d decided on my job choice. Of course my choices were limited. Some limits were probably due to my “condition”, but I bet the rest is because I am new and they have zero reason to trust me with anything involving security.

Tomorrow I go work in the kitchen.

Sunday, February 22

Met Marty Johnson today. He was adopted by Crystal. He hung around in the kitchens after lunch and I could tell he wanted to talk to me. If I hadn’t been sporting the massive pregnancy bulge, I would’ve thought he was checking me out.

He wanted to show me how well he played guitar! I forgot that one of Sam’s early experiences here was teaching the kids to play guitar. It seems that Marty really took to it. He’s very talented. He now teaches others. I think Sam would be very proud.

Tuesday, February 24

Time seems to go so damned slow here! I don’t know if it is the eight hour shift in the kitchen or what, but it makes me want to scream! Have I mentioned that there is no such thing as a weekend?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not lazy. Only, working in a big kitchen is not high on my list of career choices. I’d rather be out on patrol. Hell, I’d even take manning one of the towers. Chopping onions? No thanks.

There is an upside. It’s not all misery here. There is a “movie theater” and a “gym” and even a “dance hall”. All meals are served to the entire community. I see no signs of rationing or controlling portions. Food is not a problem. It is a regular social event three times a day. Nobody seems to have specific people they sit with unless they are in some sort of relationship. There’s even a guy-guy couple and
two
girl-girl couples!

There is a “church”. It was a conference room that they converted. (I find that to be an amusing phrase). Outside is a schedule. So far there are Baptist, Jewish, and Catholic services. Also there is an “open worship” time and two bible study groups. I guess some folks still believe. With all I’ve seen out there,
plus
the whole dead getting back up thing, I have a bit of a problem with exactly what my spiritual beliefs are. If God is everything The Bible claims, then I’m sure He’ll understand.