Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (103 page)

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Authors: TW Brown

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BOOK: Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6)
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In the end, they dragged their feet and stalled until the threat of danger was gone. All the talk about standing and fighting was bluster. As I walked around the ruins of Warehouse City that morning, I could hear different people making claims as to who had done what to “drive the enemy out” and other equally ridic
ulous claims.

Now that the threat was gone, those who had spoken were acting as if they had actually done something. All they had really done was stay hidden well enough to not be found and taken.

Even Bob and Felicia had proved to be a disappointment. They were Travelers. Nothing more. When it came down to it, they had no stake in this.

As the bones of Warehouse City were being picked clean, I equipped myself for what I have to assume will be my last jou
rney. I went through the EEF checklist in my head as I gathered what I would need. Like ghosts, Mary and Selina followed.

By late in the morning, I was ready to go, but first I had to confront Ethan and his circle. I was hardly surprised to discover them in what had once served as a council chamber for the lea
ders of Warehouse City. There was a great deal of self-congratulatory nonsense being spoken as I walked in the room.

“Cowards!”

That was how I began. The rest is more or less as I remember it. (Mary and Selina have read over my shoulder during this entry and helped with a few points to make this as accurate of an account as I can relate.)

Every head turned to me as I walked through the door. A few of these people had their feet up on the table. Everybody seemed to be making themselves feel right at home.

“Little girl,” Ethan said with a scowl, “our efforts have driven this Dominique DuBois and her New American Army from our territory. We embarked on a campaign that the history books will remember as fierce.”

“The history books will mark you as cowards who simply waited in your holes until the wolf decided it was done hunting!” I slammed the two books I’d been given on the table for emph
asis.

“I may not be my mother…or my father…but I will promise you that
this
record will show you for what you really are. You were all talk. You had no intention of doing anything to Dominique. It was all for show!

“The people that you call your tribes are nothing more than a few family members and the only interest you wanted to pr
otect was your own. Now you all strut around like you have done something. All you did was watch and wait until she was gone. And now you strut like roosters that chased off a fox…but the fox left with all the chickens in his mouth that he wanted.

“Well I am going after Dominique. I may not be able to stop her army, but if I can kill her, it will cut the head off of this monster before it can do any more harm. If I fail…you may not know it right away. But when she returns at the head of a co
lumn of soldiers bent on destroying everything in its path…that will be sign enough.

“But if I succeed…it is me that will return. And I will r
ebuild Sunset if I have to do it alone and with my bare hands. Then…I will repair the Corridor. And I promise you this…no tribe will ever set foot inside the walls again except to surrender.”

At first they all stared at me with open mouths. Then…slowly…they started to laugh. I heard it all the way down the hall as I left and exited Warehouse City. My ears burned with a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and something else…resolve.

No, I don’t plan on becoming the next Dominique. I’m not going to assassinate her and then assert myself as the president or anything like that.

I will kill her or die trying, then I will return to my home. As far as I am concerned, the tribes are like the grasshopper in that old bedtime story about the ant and the grasshopper. They are happy to sit back and let others do for them. That is fine, but I do not think that they fully realize how much they relied on the people of the Corridor.

We were their trading post. They came for miles and brought their goods to trade with us and each other. None of them were so self-sufficient that they did not need a little something from us. And that was really it…

Us.

To the tribes, if you are not actually a member, then you are an outsider; even if you are a member of another tribe. That is why they all have those ridiculous names.

Inside the walls of the Corridor, it didn’t matter if you were from Warehouse City, Sunset Fortress, or simply one of the pe
ople who settled down its length, you were part of a greater whole. That is why we sent the EEF out there to help others prepare settlements. That is why we had regular meetings with the people of the Confederated Tribes.

The people of the Corridor may not have been perfect…but then, who is? However, we did not turn our back on the world.

So, we left Warehouse City. I was surprised at who was walking beside me as I headed down the tracks in pursuit of Dominique. If you would have asked me a few weeks ago, I would have sworn it would be Bob and Felicia. I guess I should have known before when I first surrendered. That might sound unfair, after all, I was walking down into an occupied city and giving myself over because they had my mother. But the signs were there and I chose to believe that they were like people I grew up around.

One of the things that I am counting on is the fact that we did sabotage several points along the railway. Nothing that is not repairable; we didn’t have anything that allowed us to be too i
ntricate. It was mostly prying a piece off here or there—by the way, that is much more difficult than you may think if you have never tried it yourself.

When the first day came to an end, I was making a fire. S
elina came to me and I could tell that she had something on her mind. I knew it could not be something mundane like her wanting to actually watch how I built a fire. When I got it going, I decided to make it easy on her. I asked what was on her mind. Turns out she was wondering where the zombies might be hiding.

I actually had to explain to her that they were rarer than most people might believe. I told her about the rumor that there was a herd numbering over a million just standing in the aptly named Death Valley. Rumor had it that their eyes had shriveled away to nothing. Also, there was supposedly a place out in the plains of the Midwest…a huge valley of grass surrounded on three sides by a series of cliffs with several hundred thousand just standing there. Most encounters were with singles or small groups. On occasion you might encounter a herd of a hundred or so, but over the decades. Many of the larger groups had come together and formed super-herds which, due to their size had pushed their way into a place and eventually come to a stop in the face of some natural obstacle. The Grand Canyon has stories so fantastic that they are now regarded as myths.

The second day, we saw a few stragglers that we had to take down. I imagine that the train will attract plenty of attention and it will be us that will have to deal with it. Although, I did notice a few large number kills which is pretty smart. They would not want to bring a bunch of undead with them. By the time they reach their destination, it would be likely that they have a bit of trouble on their hands.

I don’t know why I didn’t just stick with the train tracks b
efore when I made this trip. While there are spots that leave you exposed, those are easy to go around (so far). And even if they get tricky, I am sure that a person using their head can come to a solution that is workable. That is the key here…I will need to use my head. I cannot let my emotions get the best of me.

So much is swirling in my head, and as I look at the slee
ping figures of Mary and Selina next to the fire, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

 

Tuesday, March 9
th

 

Today we thought we had caught up with them. Just outside of the actual city of Portland, heading east along the Columbia River, we spotted a train on the tracks that was not moving and surrounded by hundreds of the undead.

This was the point where the train actually crosses over into Washington. I guess that might be part of the reason why I did not take this route. If I would have crossed over, I’m not sure that I would have been able to get back. The bridge has been r
epaired since the dam farther up broke and sent who knows how much water this way, wiping out several small communities, but it was hit pretty hard and I don’t know if I would have been able to use it several months ago. Obviously Dominique’s people came in and took care of it since that event.

This bridge crosses at an island in the middle of the river that looks like it practically had a city on it judging by the ruins. I do not have any recollection of being out here, but Mary told me that several tribes live there and are not known for being too friendly to people who trespass.

That is not very encouraging because we are camped in a building that looks out at the Washington side of the river. From the looks, I think it is safe to assume that this place used to sell boats. There are what look like the remnants of docks and dozens of boat-related things everywhere. This little cove shows signs of that flood. Everything has been “washed” to the west as we look north from the dreary ruins of this building.

Mary did not bother to tell me until we made camp. I asked her why she waited and she said that she didn’t realize where we were until she was out gathering some wood for the fire. She led me to a tree where two bodies are hanging. I have no idea what the story is, but two soldiers from the NAA are dead, strung up by a hangman’s noose.

Have you ever walked in to the end of a conversation and wondered what the hell people were talking about because you hear something that is just so crazy. Well…that is what I am feeling right now. It doesn’t make sense. Two soldiers…just hanging from a tree. No signs of a big struggle…the bodies do not look like anything strange has been done—other than the hanging that is—and they don’t even have their hands tied.

The only thing good about camping here tonight is that Mary says there have not been any walkers on this island for over a decade.

 

Wednesday, March 10
th

 

I don’t think I slept all that well last night. I heard a lot of hoots and whistles and other strange noises. I was almost certain that we were going to end up getting grabbed by the people who call this island home.

When the sun broke, I felt silly…until we went to leave. There was a sign on the upside-down skeleton of a boat. It said simply: If you return…you die.

I guess Mary wasn’t kidding.

 

Thursday, March 11
th

 

We have been moving along without any real troubles since we left. Sure, we got a nasty note, but if that is the worst thing that happens to me during this trip, life will be pretty sweet.

Today, it was almost surreal. We had sunshine and blue skies. Mary had us stop early for camp tonight and went down to the river. An hour later, she returned with two of the largest salmon that I have ever seen. We ate so much that I had to u
nbutton my pants. It has been a while since I felt like this. It was almost like I was…happy.

Until I sat down to write this entry, I think it was the first time in weeks that I did not have my Mama Lindsay on my mind at every single moment (I don’t think that I am exaggerating). I’m not saying that I am over her death…not even close. Ho
wever, today was kind of nice. And it seems that Selina is the master of dirty jokes, so…that was fun. I have never laughed so hard while being simultaneously embarrassed in my life!

Tomorrow, we are moving up into the hills for a bit. When darkness started to fall, we were able to see several fires start up to the east. Not sure if it is one big settlement, I seem to reme
mber a bunch of people on sailboards, but I was certain that it was several miles ahead. Of course the dam breaking could have caused a lot of people to relocate.

 

Friday, March 12
th

 

From here, we are actually able to look down into a walled city! You can actually see where the water came so close to their walls. The land is basically a brown, mud-bog up to the slope that the city rests atop.

The big question is what their deal is. They could be loyal to the NAA. After all, the train had to pass within a stone’s throw from their walls. I can’t see them just letting a train pass by without having some sort of interaction with the people.

I know that is how we first came into contact with the NAA to begin with. Back before Dominique took over, Sunset Fortress, Warehouse City, and the entire length of the Corridor were just an independent entity. We did our own thing.

One day, a large regiment of soldiers arrived. The president at the time welcomed them in and there were several meetings over the next year. It was then that the deal was signed that sent some of the citizens from the Corridor to serve in the NAA. That is also when we had three windmills brought in and added to our tiny power grid. Plus they helped with some trenches that acted as an initial defense against hordes.

All in all, it was a decent exchange. And at least early on (from what I was always told) the recruits were volunteers that signed up for service. Some even returned after however many years. I know of one guy who served in the EEF. Also, supposedly, the two people who wrote the actual EEF manual were former NAA that came back to Warehouse City after their time of service was ended.

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