Story MJOTZY: Mom's Journal of the Zombie Years

[Kathy in FL]

Day 135 (Wednesday – Water Day)

It’s been wet and drizzly all day. Night watch said it started about 3 AM and here it is about 10 PM and the rain has progressed to a full downpour. James is on guard duty right now and will be until 2 AM. He’s just 16 years old, out on the Wall, in the pouring rain, defending us against zombies and raiders and God alone knows what else. Tell me the world hasn’t changed. I dare you.

If the rain doesn’t let up soon work on the pole walls will have to be put off until the ground dries up. That will be disappointing after today’s progress. They had a couple of false starts as they tried a couple of different techniques but Angus, Mr. Morris, and Scott believe they have a good idea how to proceed from this point forward.

First they dig a trench two feet wide by three feet deep. Then they fill the trench about half full of gravel they are hauling in from concrete and landscaping companies around town. So far they are getting it from a place right down the road on Florida Avenue which is only a couple of miles down the road.

Next they cut down a couple of pines from a stand that was planted by the utility company about 15 years ago. The trees are pretty tall but still thin. They split the pines length ways and set them aside. Next they lay 5 of the telephone poles side-by-side. They take a pine split and lay it across the bottom of the five telephone poles, nail it in place with twelve inch landscape nails, and then trim the pine split. The do the same at the top of the poles. They wind up with something that looks like a long, narrow raft.

With one end of the “raft” in the trench, they slowly lift the raft upright using block and tackle. The bottom of the “raft” stays in the trench and the top of the “raft” is secured to the top of the Wall using a couple of large eye-rings, a couple of s-hooks, and a length of sturdy chain.

The bonus of this method is that if the Wall catches on first somehow, we can unhook the chain and drop a section of poles before it ignites the rest of the Wall. It will also make repairs easier. Even better is the top of the “raft’ is higher than the top of the steel storage containers and that section can now function as a palisade of sorts. That will be added protection for Wall guards and defenders. They were able to raise three sections today even with the late start.

If or when they run out of the landscape nails they are looking at two alternatives. First is that Scott thinks he can fabricate more nails using rebar. The second is a non-mechanical solution where the men use thick wild potato vines like rope and tie the telephone poles together using knots most of them probably learned in Boy Scouts or the military.

All in all it looks like the Wall will continue to be our main barrier and defense tool; well that and our own commonsense. I can see how it will remain an important and vital part of Sanctuary for years to come.

Today was Water Day and I have to say that I’m very glad of the rain. I’ve been watering the sub-gardens by hand and running the drip irrigation on the main garden. We’ve already refilled the garden water tower and all of the in-ground pools inside Sanctuary’s Wall. From the look of things all of the retention pools outside of the Wall are refilling as well.

I was on one of the water teams with Betty and Reba. I took them to show them the locations of the water barrels outside of Sanctuary and not expecting trouble, we only went lightly armed. The women both carried rifles; I had my .22 rifle, the new Mark III long barrel pistol Scott gave me, and my trusty machete. If we had gone any heavier getting our chore completed would have been too hard.

Even so we got a pretty bad scare. Not one of the worst ones I’ve ever had but the freaky factor was right up near the top. I have a feeling that it will be a while before Betty and Reba feel comfortable going outside the Wall again though given the day and times that we live in I don’t see how they are going to be able to avoid it for long.

We are lucky to have had several pool supply companies within easy gathering distance from us we gathered and stored everything they had left in one of the houses right outside of the rear gate. The chlorine has a very strong smell, in fact you really aren’t supposed to inhale it but you still manage to get a whiff when you are adding it to the pools. We had grabbed a supply of this chlorine before heading out into the outlying neighborhood. We were in the backyard by one of the pools testing the water before adding some of the granulated chlorine. I was adding the chlorine per usual when I noticed something.

It was an odd odor. It didn’t smell like decay so I didn’t think zombie. It was that burnt, smoky smell again. I asked the other two women if they smelled it and they confirmed they did. I looked to the sky but didn’t see any sign of smoke. It kind of smelled like a cooking fire but at the same time kind of nasty. Then the smell got even stronger. Following the smell I walked around to the front of the house.

You know, I don’t like to curse but I am human and make some real chowder headed mistakes sometimes. Man, when I came around that house I lost my religion for a minute. What I saw was just plain ol’ awful in a way that is really hard to describe.



At first it was hard to put two and two together. But the human brain is an amazing organ and not just because it can become a harbinger of the NRS bacteria.

Neuron One says, “What’s that?”

Neuron Two says, “What’s what?”

Neuron One says, “That. What’s that?”

Neuron Two says, “I don’t know, ask the ears.”

The ears say, “We aren’t sure but whatever it is keeps running into the side of the building over and over. And if we listen close we can also hear crumbling and flaking. If that doesn’t help, why don’t you ask the eyes.”

The eyes say, “Ew. Why do we want to look at something like that? Really weird. Its short, kinda blackened. Kinda looks … well, its looks like something is missing. We don’t know … roadkill?’

Neuron One says, “No, roadkill doesn’t walk.”

The eyes say, “Well then don’t look at us. Have you asked the nose?”

The nose says, “I was the one that notified you guys. That’s why you had the legs walk around the building in the first place. It smells like smoke and burnt things. If you haven’t figured it out yet go see if the heart knows.”

The neurons finally ask the heart. The heart knows but is too shocked and horrified to answer and can only pump faster and faster.

Finally the neurons give up and just decide to fire all the data off to the cerebrum. The cerebrum takes all the data, puts it together and nearly panics. It activates the fight or flight emergency response system. The medulla produces adrenaline. The legs become poised to run. The hair stands on end. The lungs pump the body full of oxygen. The eyes zero in on the threat. The mouth battles the vocal chords to hold back a scream. And the hand and arm try to work together to grab the best weapon to defend the whole body.

And all of that happens in under a second. The human brain is an amazing organ; I simply didn’t want to accept what mine was trying to tell me.

A child; or the shell of what had once been a child. If I had to guess it had been somewhere between Johnnie and Bekah’s age. Another guess might have made it a girl child but in today’s unisex hairstyles and clothing styles I wasn’t certain; not that there was much left of either one. The clothes it wore were barely charred remnants affixed to the body here and there. The odd tuft of blondish stubble was all that was left of the hair.

Its facial features were melted into an unrecognizable sludge stuck to the front of the skull. All the soft tissues was gone; eyelids, eyeballs, nose, lips, ears. It had also lost a few teeth along the way to allow me to see the tongue was also gone. It was a shambler in the truest sense; the NRS infection unable to access the once human senses because they no longer existed so it wandered aimlessly until a catastrophic bit of decay prevented further movement.

It didn’t register pain or light. It made no sound though that wasn’t unusual, none of the zombies made sounds with their vocal chords. Unlike other zombies it didn’t appear to be able to hear either. It had no reaction to my string of curses nor the gasps of the other two women.

Reba cried out in disgust while Betty begged, “Please put the poor thing out of its misery.”

I raised the Mark III to do just that. It’s a good thing I had because around the corner of the house came several similarly burned up creatures; these however apparently still had their hearing and had zeroed in on us.

They shambled only slightly faster than their deaf compatriot but they were focused. I fired at the lead zombie and got it with a lucky head shot. Behind me I felt more than saw Reba and Betty bring their own weapons to bear. We used way too much ammo to take down eight zombies in such close proximity, but our reaction made us less accurate than normal. We’ll need to work on that.

The volume of shots brought several teams running to provide back up. And still the zombie child continued to run into the side of the house. None of the ruckus had stopped its relentless attempt to go forward. It was J. Paul who stepped forward and blew its head off, finally ending its tortured existence.

He said, “We spotted another bunch o’ these burned up zombies about 45 minutes ago heading west. The big guy, Dixon, he said to let 'em go since they were headed away from us.”

That night after dinner we discussed the burned zombies. Marty, in his typical fashion, said we should start a zombie lexicon. We have shamblers, ragers, and now we have flambés. A little tacky but about as honest as anything else. It’s easier to think of them by nicknames than to think about what they really are, and who they might have once been.

We’ve all given up on the “why are there zombies” question; it’s frustrating scientifically and psychologically and the philosophical debate used to go on for hours ad nauseum. We’ve accepted that they simply are what they are. But we do still ask questions and wonder about specific zombie origins and behaviors. This time the question was why so many badly burned zombies and why were they coming out of the east? To sum up all the possibilities we think there was another Big Fire; not unlike the one we experienced in this area, but far enough away that we haven’t seen smoke or ash on the horizon. The fire must have caught a horde in mid migration. The questions none of us could answer was did the fire take out the whole horde or not? Were today’s zombies the remnants or the forerunners? Do we need to worry about another large horde heading our way out of the east? If so how soon?

By that time the rain was coming down in buckets and a bone-deep chill was in the air. The rain would make the zombies behave abnormally, and less directly threatening, so we decided to table it as a security issue for now.

Scott and I had to ferry the younger kids and Sarah back to the house in our arms because of the standing water. Scott was exhausted and needed sleep because he will take the 2 am to 5 am watch. He went off to bed while I got the kids washed up, warmed up, and off to bed as quietly as possible. Everyone was more than ready to go, even my rowdiest kidlets.

I wanted to crawl in bed myself but I had a ton of planning to do. The rain made me want to just snuggle under the covers and sleep in late. No time for that kind of stuff these days. I’m running out of prepared menus and need to work up a couple of extra weeks worth. Jim leaves at first light with Angus to go to the Port, find the part needed for trade, and then make arrangements with the Tarpon Springs group. That means that I also need to work on replacing the instant mixes that they will take as part of their BOBs and daily meals.

The one thing we did make a decision about tonight is that no one is outside the Wall without what we are calling an emergency pack. It’s not a BOB per se but more a fanny pack that has some energy bars, a couple of instant soup packets, a couple of pieces of hard candy, a mylar blanket, and a multi-tool in it. Even if we are just outside the Wall like the men working on the pole wall or within sight of the Wall like I was today. It’s one of those “better safe than sorry” things my Dad was fond of talking about.

I found my dad’s deer-handled tableware he was working on. He would go to flea markets and yard sales looking for old eating utensils that were sturdy but had a broken or crappy handle. Then he would polish them up and use the deer antlers my mom’s brother and cousins would send him to make new handles. He had completed 15 place settings of knives, forks, and spoons and he had made some nice serving pieces too. My favorite pieces are the forks that have three tines and look a bit like pitchforks.

I also found the old glass butter churn that belonged to my great grandmother and the stoneware crocks my grandmother used to make pickles and sauerkraut. They should come in handy real soon. In the same box I found the stoneware jugs my great grandfather used to use for his homebrew. Scott laughed at those when he saw them on our counter. He wanted to know if I was going to revert to the ways of my ancestors and I told him maybe so.

What I really wish is that we could take the good from the “good ol’ days” and the good from the modern era and blend them so that we somehow avoid the bad from both. I had mentioned something similar when I picked up Kitty’s goat milk this morning and Mr. Morris just laughed and said, “Honey that’s only goin’ ta happen if you figure out how to get rid of most of the people.”

His granddaughter Claire, a rather morose young woman still struggling to deal with the changes in her life and the loss of a long time boyfriend said, “Haven’t the zombies and raiders already done that?”

 

[Kathy in FL]

SCOTT’S VERSION OF THE NORTH FLORIDA RUN (PART 3)

DECEMBER 3RD NOTHING WENT QUITE AS EXPECTED. WE HAD PLANNED TO COMPLETE THE TRUCK AND RADIO REPAIRS AND BE GONE BY LUNCH TIME. ZOMBIES ON THE OTHER HAND DIDN’T APPEAR TO HAVE CHECKED THE SCHEDULE AND KEPT US BUSY UNTIL MIDMORNING. THEN THE REPAIRS TO THE TRUCK TOOK LONGER THAN EXPECTED. MCELROY AND ANGUS PRETTY MUCH HAD THE REPAIRS UNDER CONTROL AND THAT LEFT ME AT LOOSE ENDS. I CAN’T STAND HAVING NOTHING TO DO. IT JUST BUGS THE HECK OUT OF ME. NOT ONLY THAT BUT IT LEFT ME TIME TO GRIEVE AND I DIDN'T WANT TO GO THERE YET, NOT WITHOUT SISSY.

I BEGAN DIGGING THROUGH WHAT I COULD IN THE BACK OF THE SEMI. DIXON WANDERED OVER TO SEE WHAT I WAS DOING. I TOLD HIM I WANTED TO FIND A COUPLE OF THINGS TO TAKE BACK TO SISSY IN CASE WE HAD TO DITCH THE TRUCK SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY. THERE WAS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO REALLY PICK JUST A FEW ITEMS BUT I DID MANAGE TO FIND WHAT I THOUGHT WOULD MEAN THE MOST TO SISSY. I PULLED OUT HER DAD’S BIBLE THAT HAD ALL HIS HANDWRITTEN NOTES IN IT. I ALSO PULLED HOW HIS MOTHER’S BIBLE THAT MY INLAWS STUCK ALL OF THEIR IMPORTANT PAPERS IN. I NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHY THEY DID IT LIKE THAT … BIRTH CERTIFICATES, THEIR MARRIAGE LICENSE, COPIES OF DEATH CERTIFICATES, OBITUARIES, AND EVEN THE BILL OF SALE OF THEIR PROPERTY. THERE WAS SOMETHING BETWEEN ALMOST EVERY PAGE, INCLUDING SOME PRESSED FLOWERS THAT HAD BEEN IN THERE NEARLY 75 YEARS. I WRAPPED BOTH BOOKS IN PLASTIC WRAP AND THEN STUCK THEM INSIDE A GARBAGE BAG AND STUCK THEM IN MY BACKPACK. IF IT CAME DOWN TO BEING ON FOOT THAT WAS THE ONLY THING I COULD FIND I’D BE SURE TO BE ABLE TO CARRY HOME.

DIXON HELPED ME TO REPACK EVERYTHING BUT ASKED IF I MINDED THAT WE REDISTRIBUTE SOME OF THE FOOD WE HAD FOUND. WE WERE ALREADY OVE R A DAY BEHIND SCHEDULE. AT THIS RATE WE KNEW WE COULD BE SEVERAL DAYS BEHIND BY THE TIME WE GOT BACK TO SANCTUARY. WE HAD THE AMMO UNDER CONTROL THANKS TO OUR STOP AT THAT PAWN SHOP. FUEL COULD BE A PROBLEM, ESPECIALLY SINCE WE HOPED TO STAY ON THE MOST DIRECT PATH HOME. WATER MIGHT BE A PROBLEM BUT WE WERE DOING OK SO FAR PLUS WE HAD GOOD FILTERS WE COULD USE. BY USING THE STUFF MY INLAWS CANNED WE COULD TAKE CARE OF ONE POTENTIAL PROBLEM. MY FATHER IN LAW WOULD HAVE BEEN UPSET IF I HADN’T USED IT. I ALSO KNEW SISSY WOULD HAVE THOUGHT I WAS NUTS HAD I HESITATED. SO I GRABBED JARS OF VENISON CHILI, PEARS, AND VEGETABLE SOUP AS WELL AS MORE OF THE CANNED FRUIT JUICE THAT I FOUND AND SPLIT THEM BETWEEN THE CABS OF THE THREE VEHICLES.

THE FUEL FOR THE AVALANCHE WE PARTIALLY TOOK CARE OF BY DRAINING VEHICLES WITHIN A SHORT WALKING DISTANCE FROM WHERE WE WERE. MOST PLACES STILL HAD AT LEAST ONE VEHICLE AROUND THEIR PLACE AND THAT MADE US WONDER WHERE ALL THE PEOPLE WENT AND HOW DID THEY GET THERE.

THE SEMI WAS TOPPED OFF BUT IT WASN’T EASY TO GET IT STARTED. MCELROY HAD TO FIDDLE WITH IT AND DRAIN THE FUEL LINE TWICE BEFORE IT WOULD CATCH. IT RAN ROUGH FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS BUT GRADUALLY RAN BETTER AFTER WE RAN SOME FRESHER FUEL THROUGH IT. WE LUCKED OUT WITH THE DIESEL FUEL. THAT AREA IS FULL OF SMALL FARMS AND FORESTRY FOLK MANY OF WHOM KEEP THEIR OWN DIESEL TANKS TO FILL THEIR TRUCKS AND TRACTORS WITH. SEVERAL OF THEM EVEN HAD MANUAL PUMPS WHICH WAS A PLUS. WE TOPPED OFF JUICER AND THEN FILLED A BUNCH OF GAS CANS IN CASE WE RAN INTO TROUBLE DOWN THE ROAD.

NORMALLY IT TAKES LESS THAN HALF A TANK IN THE ASTRO VAN WE USED AS OUR MAIN VEHICLE TO GET FROM OUR HOUSE TO MY INLAWS’. HOWEVER ALL THE STOP-AND-GO, WEAVING IN-AND-OUT, AND THEN OUR DETOUR THROUGH GAINESVILLE ATE UP OUR FUEL SUPPLIES FASTER THAN EXPECTED. WE STILL HAD A LITTLE BIT LEFT OVER THAT WE HAD SNAGGED IN WILDWOOD BUT IT WASN'T MUCH OF A CUSHION. WE DECIDED THAT FROM THERE ON OUT WHEN WE STOPPED FOR THE EVENING THE LOCATION WOULD BE A POTENTIAL PLACE TO RE-FUEL.

THE RADIO REPAIRS DIDN’T WORK. WE WERE ALL ANXIOUS BY THAT TIME AS WE HAD BEEN OUT OF CONTACT FOR OVER 24 HOURS. DIXON PULLED THE RADIO APART AND SAID THAT IT LOOKED LIKE A CAPASITOR HAD FAILED. THAT MEANT WE’D BE OUT OF CONTACT UNTIL WE COULD FIND A REPLACEMENT RADIO. WE DECIDED WE’D JUST SUCK IT UP AND ASK IN TRENTON IF THERE WAS SOMETHING WE COULD TRADE FOR A RADIO. IF THAT DIDN’T WORK WE’D HEAD ON TO CHIEFLAND AND SEE WHAT WE COULD FIND THERE.

EITHER WAY WE WERE LOOKING AT ANOTHER NIGHT WHERE WE WERE AND IN HINDSIGHT IT WAS A BETTER DECISION THAN RUSHING OUT.

ABOUT ONE A.M. A SMALLISH HORDE PASSED THROUGH. THEY DIDN’T BOTHER US, WE STAYED QUIET. THE ODD MOVEMENTS OF THE SMALL HORDES OF ZOMBIES ARE EASIER TO NOTICE OUT WHERE YOU CAN OBSERVE THEM ‘IN THE WILD’ SO TO SPEAK. THERE ARE FEWER THINGS TO GET IN THEIR WAY AND FEWER PEOPLE TO DISTRACT THEM. AS I WATCHED THEM SHUFFLE ALONG IN STEP WITH ONE ANOTHER THEY REMINDED ME OF SARDINES SWIMMING. THE LARGER “SCHOOLS” OF ZOMBIES EVEN HAVE MOVEMENTS WITHIN THE OVERALL MOVEMENT, JUST LIKE A REAL SCHOOL OF FISH. IT CAN BE FREAKY AND HYPNOTIC TO WATCH.

THE HORDE FINISHED PASSING THROUGH ABOUT AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER. WE GRABBED A LITTLE MORE SLEEP AND THEN WERE UP AND ON THE ROAD AT FIRST LIGHT WITH JUST A CLIF BAR FOR BREAKFAST. WE WERE THAT ANXIOUS TO GET BACK ON THE ROAD.

AS WE GOT CLOSER TO TRENTON WE NOTICED BOTH FRESH AND ZOMBIE CORPSES LITTERING THE ROAD. CONSIDERING HOW CLEAN THE ROAD HAD BEEN WHEN WE PASSED THAT WAY THE FIRST TIME WE KNEW THAT WASN’T A GOOD SIGN. THE ONLY THING THEY HAD IN COMMON WAS THAT THEY WERE ALL SANITIZED AND WOULDN’T BE WALKING AGAIN. AS WE PASSED THROUGH TOWN WE SAW SOME SMOULDERING BUILDING FIRES. THE AREA WHERE THE ROADBLOCK HAD BEEN WAS LITTERED WITH DEBRIS. THE ONLY THING THAT STILL STOOD WAS THE LARGEST OF THE THREE CROSSES THAT HAD BEEN INSTALLED AT THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. WE DIDN’T SEE ANY LIVE PEOPLE BUT WE HAD A FEELING THEY WERE THERE AND HIDING. SO MUCH FOR STOPPING AND ASKING ABOUT RADIOS.

WE WERE JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD BLOCK HEADING EAST ON SR26 TOWARD CHIEFLAND WHEN THIS WOMAN COMES OUT OF NOWHERE TO JUMP IN FRONT OF JUICER. NONE OF US WERE DRIVING FAST, 15 MPH AT MOST SINCE WE WERE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HAD OCCURRED AND WHEN. WE STILL HAD TO SLAM ON OUR BREAKS AND I NEARLY REAR-ENDED THE AVALANCHE WITH THE SEMI.

YOU’VE MET RHONDA BY NOW SO YOU KNOW SHE IS A PISTOL. IN MY EXPERIENCE IT JUST ISN’T A GOOD IDEA TO TRY AND ARGUE WITH A PREGNANT WOMAN BUT THAT IS WHAT DIXON TRIED TO DO; TRY BEING THE OPERATIVE WORD. SHE SAID SHE HAD SEEN US WHEN WE PASSED THROUGH THE FIRST TIME. THE PERSON WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE GIVEN HER A RIDE BACK TO THE PLACE SHE WAS STAYING ABANDONED HER DURING THE PANIC WHEN THE ZOMBIE HORDE CAME THROUGH. IT WAS TOO FAR FOR HER TO WALK IN HER CONDITION – ABOUT FIVE MILES AND FIVE MONTHS PREGNANT – AND AT THE TIME ALL SHE WANTED WAS A LIFT. WE WERE GOING THAT WAY ANYWAY SO DIXON FINALLY CAVED. RHONDA SAID SHE’D RIDE WITH ANGUS SO THAT SHE COULD SHOW HIM TO THE WAY. SHE SAID, “WE’LL BE FINE BIG BOY, JUST SO’S LONG AS YOU KEEP THEM DOGS AND YOUR HANDS UNDER CONTROL.”

ANGUS JUST LAUGHED, OPENED THE DOOR AND HELPED HER CLIMB UP, AND WE ALL TOOK OFF. FIVE MILES DOWN THE FIRST CLEAR ROAD WE HAD TRAVELLED SINCE LEAVING TAMPA WE PULLED ONTO A DIRT ROAD. WE NEARLY GOT SHOT UNTIL RHONDA STUCK HER HEAD OUT THE WINDOW AND SCREAMED, “DON’T Y’ALL SHOOT MY RIDE NOW. THEY GAVE ME A LIFT FROM TOWN.”

THERE WERE A BUNCH OF LOADED VEHICLES AND NERVOUS PEOPLE MILLING ABOUT UNTIL RHONDA INTRODUCED DIXON WHO INTRODUCED ANGUS, MCELROY, AND ME. THEY HAD JUST ABOUT GIVEN UP ON RHONDA COMING HOME AND WERE GIVING HER JUST A COUPLE OF MORE HOURS BEFORE THEY HEADED OUT. THEY WERE LEAVING THE AREA, LOOKING TO HOOK UP WITH SOME FAMILY THAT ONE OF THE GROUP HAD IN PLANT CITY WHICH IS JUST EAST OF TAMPA. THE FOUR FAMILIES WERE STILL NOT CONVINCED THEY WERE DOING THE RIGHT THING. WE TOLD THEM WHAT IT WAS LIKE AND THAT MADE THEM HESITATE EVEN MORE.

THEN RHONDA TOLD THEM WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN TRENTON. MOST EVERYONE HAD ABANDONED THEIR POSTS AND THE RAIDERS WERE LIKELY ON THEIR WAY TO FINISH OFF THE REST OF THE TOWN. THE RAIDERS HAD GOTTEN SMART AND STARTED FOLLOWING THE HORDES LIKE NOMADS. THEY PICKED OVER WHAT WAS LEFT IN AN AREA AFTER THE ZOMBIES HAD BEATEN THE PEOPLE DOWN OR KILLED THEM. THE RAIDERS WERE BECOMING MORE NUMEROUS AND MORE BRUTAL NOW THAT THEY HAD BEGUN TO UNDERSTAND HOW TO CO-EXIST WITH THE ZOMBIES.

THAT DECIDED IT. THE NICHOLSON AND BRADY FAMILIES WERE CLOSE FRIENDS OF THE MORRIS FAMILIES. RHONDA WAS SOME HOW RELATED TO ALL FOUR, SISSY WOULD CALL HER A “SHIRT TAIL COUSIN” OF SOME TYPE, AND WAS THE ONE PERSON WHO TIED THEM ALL TOGETHER.

BOTTOM LINE AFTER DECIDING THAT ALL OF US WOULD TRAVEL TOGETHER, FIGURING OUT WHAT ORDER WE WOULD DRIVE IN AND GETTING EVERYTHING SQUARED AWAY WE DIDN’T GET MUCH FARTHER DOWN THE ROAD THAN WE HAD STARTED. HOWEVER, WE DID GET TO KNOW THE FAMILIES BETTER AND THEY DID OFFER TO LOAD UP SOME COWS FOR US AT THE ABANDONED DAIRY FARM WHERE WE SPENT THE NIGHT. WE HADN’T ACTUALLY INVITED THEM TO COME TO SANCTUARY AT THAT POINT BUT DIXON MUST HAVE ALREADY BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT. HE CAME TO EACH OF US INDIVIDUALLY AND ASKED US TO CONSIDER IT AND IF THEY WOULD BE A GOOD ADDITION TO OUR POPULATION OR NOT. I ALREADY LIKE THE MORRIS FAMILIES AND THE BRADY FAMILY WASN’T BAD EITHER. RHONDA WAS A CHARACTER, FULL OF SPUNK, AND BRAVER THAN SHE HAD ANY RIGHT TO BE. WE ALREADY HAD ONE PREGNANT WOMAN IN SANCTUARY, ONE MORE WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM. THE NICHOLSONS THOUGH WERE A LITTLE ON THE NEEDY SIDE, ESPECIALLY WHEN COMPARED TO THE OTHER PEOPLE IN THEIR GROUP, AND I DECIDED TO RESERVE JUDGEMENT FOR A BIT LONGER.

WE DRAINED THE LAST OF THE DIESEL OUT OF THE FARM'S TANKS TO TOP OFF ALL OF THE VEHICLES NOW IN THE CONVOY AND TO FUEL A CATTLE TRAILER. WE ALSO SCAVENGED WHAT FOOD WAS LEFT IN THE FARM HOUSE, WHICH WASN'T MUCH BUT BETTER THAN NOTHING, AND GRABBED ALL OF THE ANIMAL FEED THAT WE COULD. WE HAD TO FIGHT WITH SOME RATS OVER IT WHICH WAS FREAKY BUT THE MORRIS KIDS HAD FIGHTING RATS DOWN TO A SCIENCE.

AFTER A DINNER PREPARED BY THE WOMEN IN THE OTHER GROUP WE ALL SETTLED IN FOR A RELATIVELY PEACEFUL NIGHT. NO ZOMBIES, NO RAIDERS, BUT I DON'T THINK ANYONE SLEPT VERY WELL. I CAN ONLY GUESS HOW THE OTHERS WERE FEELING BUT I WAS MISSING MY FAMILY AND WAS GETTING IRRITATED AT OUR SLOW PROGRESS. I WAS ACTUALLY GRATEFUL FOR MY TURN AT WATCH AS IT GAVE ME SOMETHING BESIDES MY WORRIES TO THINK ABOUT.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 136

Jim and Angus left first thing this morning; both of them really cheery despite the cold drizzle still coming down out of the sky. I sent them out with some breakfast burritos in their bellies and a hot cooler full of beef stew and fresh baked corn muffins. At least I know they’ll have something warm to eat tonight. They expect to be back tomorrow or the next day depending on how long it takes them to find the part they are looking for. Jim knows where he can find the part, its finding the couplers and hoses for it that may take longer. I know they are grown men but I just don’t like any of our people getting too far away from home for very long. That must be how some people felt as they watched ancient sailors leaving a safe harbor; no one knew if they would come home or if they were going to fall off the edge of the world never to be heard from again.

We haven’t seen any more of the burned zombies though we’ve seen some zombies exhibiting the normal crazy behavior they have when it rains. Not as crazy as break dancing or standing on their heads like you get in a heavy downpour, but they ran into trees and each other as often as they didn’t.

After yesterday anything would be an improvement; but today has actually been a really good day. Sarah was up and around nearly the whole work day. She went to bed early but I think that is just because of all the exercise and not because she is having a setback. It will take her a while to build up her stamina to where it was before.

I let Sarah go outside the gates with Scott when he was on break to look at the progress of the pole wall. She was wearing a long raincoat, goulashes, and a floppy rain hat but I told her it was either that or be confined to the house again. In fact, I’ve managed to find almost everyone some type or raingear. There was some grumbling until Waleski and Rachel reminded everyone we don’t have access to modern medicine so getting pneumonia or even a cold could lead to dire, if not deadly, circumstances. It gave everyone something to think about and I’ve noticed people trying to be less casual about health issues. Certainly the men working on the Wall are wearing their raingear more than I actually expected them to.

While Scott and Sarah were out, Sarah kept getting distracted because she said she saw things over in the bushes. Do you know that child spotted a bunch of chickens that had come to take advantage of all the disturbed ground the guys were churning up? Scott had James sent for some feed and a large painter’s tarp. They scattered the feed on the ground and then used the tarp to capture all but one skinny hen that then wound up following the rest of her family into Sanctuary’s gates anyway.

As much as Reba would have loved to keep them all she said we simply didn’t have enough feed yet and so we culled a few and used them to make curried chicken sausage. There was no way it was going to be ready for dinner tonight so we’ve changed tomorrow’s menu and we’ll be having Curried Chicken Sausage Tandoori. It was Betty’s recipe. Kevin had travelled quite a bit as a civilian contractor when he was younger before settling down to help his father run the family farm and Betty’s father was a missionary; they’d been stationed overseas quite a bit. I never would have known. They didn’t strike as world travelers; the things you learn about people can be amazing. I really underestimated them and now my kids are clamoring for stories about what it was like in other countries before the world caved in.

The hardest part of the whole sausage operation was grinding the chicken and chicken skin up fine enough. I added a better meat grinder to my list of “wants.” We took two pounds of ground chicken meat and skin; two teaspoons of coarse salt; one teaspoon each of cayenne pepper, ground coriander, ground ginger, ground turmeric; and half-teaspoon each of ground cardamom, dry mustard, and ground black pepper. Then we added two tablespoons of sour cream. We had to mix that all together really well and because it was so cold, had to do it with our hands. Betty had some synthetic sausage casings with her kitchen supplies and showed us all how to use them. The synthetic casings don’t need to be refrigerated until use like collagen and natural casings. The hitch is that though you can use them to smoke and cook meat, the casings themselves are not edible and need to be removed before you serve the sausage. You also have to soak the casings 20 to 30 minutes before you stuff them. Add another thing to the “want” list although where we might find synthetic casings in Tampa is beyond me. You can’t exactly look up “sausage casings” in the yellow pages and call around anymore.

Mr. Morris says that next time we kill a hog we should be prepared to make use of those casings as fast as we can. I can remember reading about hog killing time in Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I also remember being around when my grandparents were kill some hogs on their farm. I remember it was cold and that it seemed like the work went on around the clock for days. I never would have thought that I was recreating the lives of my grandparents. The list of things I’ve found that I took for granted over the years is staggering.

After we stuffed the sausage into the casings and turned it into links we put the links in one of our evaporation coolers to allow the flavors to meld for two hours. Then we cooked the sausages until they had an internal temperature of 165 degrees F. After the sausage links finished cooking we put them in a casserole dish and marinated them with a mixture made from cumin seed, cayenne, coriander, paprika, salt, pepper, gingerroot, garlic, and a little bit of the yogurt that I’ve been experimenting with. Tomorrow will be easy. All we have to do is discard the marinade (we’ll give it to the hogs in their slop) and broil the sausages for about twenty minutes. We’ll serve it with basmati rice and a nice salad. I can’t wait.

In the evenings Mr. Morris and Scott have started talking about building some steel drum smokers. It would be nice to have a real smokehouse right away but a couple of drum will do us just as well until we finish the Wall renovations. We have too much to do, not enough time to do it in, and not enough people that know how to do it by themselves.

I tried something today that worked out well. I had to go around and check all the gardens, pull fruit, etc. Between one thing and another everyone else was busy. I still needed help so I enlisted Johnnie and Bubby. Normally I don’t let any of my kids outside the Wall except right outside the gate and only then if Scott is around. Well, with the exception of David, Rose, and James I mean but I can hardly call them “kids” anymore. After Sarah got settled down at home and was helping me by ironing some of the clothes that still hadn’t dried on our indoor clothes line I took the boys and went garden gathering. I also needed to check some of our water catchment systems to make sure that the lines were still clear.

The boys road with me in the cart and helped me load several bushels of oranges into the wagon. We checked the water barrels and emptied a couple into the nearest pool, and picked up some fallen branches to put on the wood pile back in Sanctuary to dry out. They were a big help and I let them know it. I also took the time to feel them out about Christmas that was only ten days away. I needed to make certain they understood that this year was going to be different than the way they remembered it.

They wanted to know if we were going to make candy like I had promised and I told them yes. Then they wanted to know if we were going to have a big Christmas Eve dinner like I had promised and I told them yes again. Then they wanted to know would everyone get a present? I said yes to that as well. Lastly they wanted to know if Scott was going to play with them on Christmas Day and I said of course. That’s all they wanted to know. Their needs are very basic these days … food, fun, and attention. Anything we manage above and beyond that will be icing on the cake. I might try and rig up a piñata of some kind. The women and I have definitely been working hard in our spare time to come up with stockings that all the kids can hang on Christmas Eve. I know presents aren’t what Christmas is really about, but we still want to give the kids something. Each will get one useful thing and one frivolous thing. Hopefully we’ll have it all figured out before too much longer.

Speaking of frivolous things, my Amazon Lilies are in bloom. I haven’t had much time to tend to my lily garden and frankly I’m amazed anything has survived. I almost ripped them all out to plant something more useful but Scott said to leave them alone. He knows how much I need pretty things like flowers to make me feel optimistic. Not the cut variety that wither and turn brown but the live plants that continue to grow and that simply hope and rebirth over and over. Those silly flowers made me leak a few tears every time I see them. They were one of the live plants that were given to us at my mother in law’s funeral. But the tears were good things. I may not have had a funeral for my parents, but I had all the memories we had made over the years and I had snippets of the plants my mom had given to me as well. Some of those plants had origins in my great great grandmothers’ gardens. They weren’t the same plants exactly, but ancestors … from rootings, clippings, seeds, grafts, etc.

I hope we here in Sanctuary can grow something that we can give to our children. I want what we build to mean something to them. I want it to be useful to them. And I want most of the memories to be good ones. Most of all I want to give them some hope in the future. Life may never be what it once was, but it doesn’t have to be a hellhole returning to the darkest times of the Middle Ages. I’d rather us see this as a New Renaissance.

 

[Kathy in FL]

SCOTT’S VERSION OF THE NORTH FLORIDA RUN (PART 4)

DECEMBER 5TH WAS NEARLY AS AGGRAVATING AS THE PREVIOUS FOUR DAYS. TRAVELLING IS MUCH MORE DIFFICULT THAN IT USED TO BE. EVERYTHING IS A CHORE. YOU’D THINK WITH FEWER PEOPLE ON THE ROAD THAT THERE WOULD BE FEWER PROBLEMS AND NOT MORE. NOT TRUE. NOW IT’S LIKE TRAVELLING IN A WAGON TRAIN IF YOU HAVE MORE THAN ONE OR TWO VEHICLES. THE LOGISTICS OF FOOD, FUEL, AND LODGINGS ARE MUCH MORE COMPLICATED. AND THE AMOUNT OF TIME IT TAKES YOU TO GET FROM POINT A TO POINT B HAS GROWN EXPONENTIALLY.

WE WERE UP EARLY ENOUGH BUT IT TOOK THREE HOURS TO GET ON THE ROAD. EVERYONE HAD TO GET UP, GET FED, AND GET MOVING. THE ANIMALS HAD TO BE FED AND THE TRAILER MUCKED OUT. BELONGINGS HAD TO BE RETIED OR MOVED INTO A BETTER POSITION IN THE VEHICLES. BATHROOM BREAKS TOOK A WHILE. WE HAD TO GO BACK OVER EVERYONE’S PLACE IN LINE AND WHY. WE HAD TO GO OVER THE ROUTE AGAIN EVEN THOUGH WE HAD COVERED THE WHERE’S AND WHY’S AD NAUSEUM THE PREVIOUS NIGHT. THE NICHOLSON FAMILY REALLY TOOK A LONG TIME HEM-HAWING AROUND. DID THEY REALLY WANT TO LEAVE THEIR HOME? IF THEY DID, DID THEY WANT TO TRAVEL WITH US? SHOULD ANY OF THEM BE TRAVELING WITH US? COULD THEY REALLY TRUST US?

DIXON FINALLY HAD ENOUGH OF IT AND SAID WE WERE PULLING OUT IN FIVE MINUTES. WHOEVER WANTED TO GO NEEDED TO BE IN LINE OR MAKE OTHER ARRANGEMENTS. THE NICHOLSONS TRIED TO CALL OUR BLUFF AND WOUND UP GETTING LEFT BEHIND. THEY FINALLY CAUGHT UP WITH US IN CHIEFLAND AND WERE BADLY RATTLED AND UPSET. THEY TRIED SOME MINOR PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE STUFF THE NEXT DAY AS WELL WITH SIMILAR RESULTS. THE BRADY FAMILY HAS A SPECIAL NEED ADULT CHILD THAT CAUSED US FEWER HOLD UPS THAN THAT FAMILY DID. THE BRADY AND NICHOLSON FAMILIES ARE CLOSE WITH THE TWO WIVES BEING SISTERS. I THINK THE FACT THEY FOUND THEY WERE NOT “IN CHARGE,” OR WERE NOT BEING GIVEN THE CONSIDERATION THEY FELT THEY WERE DUE, IS ONE OF THE REASONS WHY THOSE TWO FAMILIES ULTIMATELY CHOSE TO STOP IN TARPON SPRINGS. THAT’S FINE WITH ME. I DON’T HAVE PATIENCE WITH THAT SORT OF THING. NO ONE IS ENTITLED TO ANYTHING THESE DAYS, YOU EARN IT OR YOU LIVE WITHOUT IT.

ONCE WE WERE FINALLY ON THE ROAD AND MOVING WE MADE DECENT TIME – NOT GREAT TIME, BUT DECENT – TO THE OUTSKIRTS OF FANNING SPRINGS WHICH IS RIGHT OUTSIDE CHIEFLAND. THEY ARE CLOSE ENOUGH THAT YOU REALLY DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO WHEN ONE LITTLE TOWN TURNS INTO ANOTHER. THE ONLY THING SEPARATING THEM IS A BRIDGE. AND SEPARATING US FROM OUR INTENDED GOAL WAS ANOTHER BUNCH OF ZOMBIES.

IF IT HAD JUST BEEN THE AVALANCHE AND JUICER WE WOULD HAVE JUST PLOWED RIGHT THROUGH THEM AND KEPT GOING, IGNORING THE ZOMBIES AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. THE PROBLEM WAS THAT THE OTHER DRIVERS IN OUR CONVOY REALLY DIDN’T HAVE ANY EXPERIENCE WITH THAT TYPE OF SANITATION PROCEDURE. KEVIN, HIS SON J. PAUL, AND REBA’S SON CLAY WERE READY TO ROCK AND ROLL BUT DIXON WORRIED THAT THE VEHICLES WOULD GET SEPARATED AND THAT THE CATTLE TRAILER WAS MOST AT RISK. ZOMBIES DON’T NORMALLY GO AFTER ANIMALS BUT IN THE MIDDLE OF A FEEDING FRENZY THEY’LL ATTACK ANYTHING WARM BLOODED, HUMAN OR NOT. WE’VE SEEN THEM CANNIBALIZE THEIR OWN KIND SO RIPPING A CATTLE TRAILER OF ANIMALS APART WASN’T BEYOND THE REALM OF POSSIBILITY.

WE PULLED BACK AND CIRCLED THE WAGONS WHILE ANGUS AND JUICER WENT TO WORK. ABOUT MIDWAY THROUGH JUICER’S NORMAL ROUTINE, FOUR BIG-WHEELED, SOOPED UP 4X4s SHOW UP AND JOIN THE PARTY. I THINK ANGUS STARTED HAVING A LITTLE TOO MUCH FUN. I KNOW THE GUY IS FROM WAY UP NORTH IN THE LAND OF ICE AND SNOW, BUT HE CAN HOOT AND HOLLER LIKE HE’S FROM DOWN HERE IN THE LAND OF COTTON.

AFTERWARD THE ZOMBIES WERE COMPLETELY DECIMATED ANGUS INTRODUCED US TO HIS NEW FRIENDS. ONE OF THEM WAS A CITY COP – FORMER CITY COP, NOW JUST A SURVIVOR LIKE THE REST OF US. HE INVITED US BACK TO THE REMNANTS OF MOST OF THE SURVIVORS IN THE AREA. THEY WANTED TO THANK US FOR OUR PART IN GETTING RID OF THE ZOMBIES AS WELL AS HEAR NEWS FROM THE “OUTSIDE WORLD.” THEY’D BEEN CUT OFF FROM ANY NEWS FOR OVER TWO MONTHS.

BY THE TIME WE SHARED INFO WITH THEM, WORKED OUT A POTENTIAL TRADE AGREEMENT FOR THE FUTURE, AND CLEANED UP THE MESS OUR VEHICLES HAD BECOME, IT WAS TOO LATE TO HEAD DOWN THE ROAD TOO MUCH FURTHER. THE CHIEFLAND ENCLAVE WARNED US THAT RAIDERS ARE MOST FREQUENT IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS AND RIGHT FULL DARK AND OFTEN COME IN ACTING LIKE REFUGEES. THEIR GROUP FELL FOR THAT TWICE AND PAID DEARLY, NOW THEY WERE VERY CAREFUL AND EVEN CLEANED OUT A RAIDER PARTY A FEWS WEEKS PRIOR THAT HAD BEEN PREYING ON SMALL HOMESTEADS STILL SURVIVING OUT IN THE COUNTRYSIDE. IN ADDITION THEY HELPED US TO SCAVENGE A NEW RADIO. IT WAS A HUGE RELIEF TO BE ABLE TO CHECK IN WITH SANCTUARY. NOT AS BIG A RELIEF AS IT WAS TO ACTUALLY MAKE IT HOME, BUT HEARING THE VOICES FROM HOME DEFINITELY HELPED US TREMENDOUSLY. WE WERE AS WORRIED ABOUT SANCTUARY AS SANCTUARY WAS WORRIED ABOUT US.

VENISON STEW AND WINTER GREENS WAS OUR DINNER … AND THE LEFTOVERS WERE OUR BREAKFAST THE NEXT DAY. CAN’T SAY I’VE EVER HAD GREENS FOR BREAKFAST BUT IT DEFINITELY PUT US ON THE ROAD WITH A FULL STOMACH.

FROM CHIEFLAND WE TOOK US19 SOUTH. TALK ABOUT A MESS AND A HALF. ABOUT A MILE OUTSIDE OF CHIEFLAND THE ROAD STARTED TO GET AS CLOGGED AS IT HAD BEEN ON THE INTERSTATE. DAMN, IT WAS IRRITATING; WE WERE DRIVING SLOWER IN SOME RESPECTS THAN WE HAD BEFORE. IF WE WENT TOO FAST THE CONVOY GOT STRUNG OUT TRYING TO NAVIGATE ALL OF THE STALLS AND CRASHES. TOO SLOW AND THE LAST PERSON IN LINE WOULD BARELY CRAWL ALONG.

OUR FIRST REAL TEST WAS THE INTERSECTION OF US19 AND CR24 AT OTTER CREEK. THERE WAS A SOLID LINE OF TRAFFIC ALL FOUR WAYS. ANGUS HAD TO USE THE LIFT ON THE FRONT OF JUICER TO “TOSS” CARS OVER AND OUT OF OUR WAY. NEXT WAS THE INTERSECTIONS AT YANKEETOWN AND INGLIS. BY THE TIME WE GOT TO CR44 WE WERE ALL EXHAUSTED AND STRESSED OUT. IT WAS THE TOWN OF CRYSTAL RIVER AND IT WAS AS GOOD A PLACE TO STOP AS ANY.

WE STOPPED EARLIER THAN WE REALLY HAD WANTED TO BUT WITH GOOD REASON. ONE, THE NEW FAMILIES NEEDED TIME TO ACCLIMATE TO THIS MODE OF TRAVEL. TWO, SOME OF THE CONVOY MEMBERS WERE REALLY HAVING AN EMOTIONALLY DIFFICULT TIME LEAVING EVERYTHING BEHIND THAT THEY HAD KNOWN. THREE, THE ANIMALS PRACTICALLY DEMANDED THAT WE ADJUST OUR TRAVELLING EXPECTATIONS.

AT DINNER THAT NIGHT I DIDN’T KNOW WHETHER I WAS HUNGRY OR NOT. FOOD WAS GETTING MEAGER ALREADY. I PULLED KEVIN ASIDE AND ASKED HIM IF HE MINDED SHARING THEIR POT IF WE ADDED SOME RATIONS. HE LOOKED SURPRISED THAT WE WOULD EVEN HAVE TO ASK. WHEN I SHOWED UP WITH A COUPLE OF JARS OF STUFF FROM MY INLAWS WE GOT ONTO A DISCUSSION THAT LED THEM TO REALIZE THEY HAD KNOWN MY FATHER IN LAW. REBA PUT IN SHE KNEW MY MOTHER IN LAW FROM SOME SEWING CLUB THEY WERE BOTH IN. IN A WAY I WAS GLAD FOR SISSY THAT SHE’D HAVE SOMEONE TO SHARE MEMORIES WITH. IN ANOTHER WAY IT MADE ME WANT TO AVOID THEM BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT ANY OF THAT BEHIND SISSY’S BACK. THEY SEEMED TO UNDERSTAND AND DIDN’T SAY MUCH.

NO ONE SAID MUCH REALLY. WE WERE ALL TIRED AND THE LITTLE BIT OF ENERGY WE HAD LEFT HAD TO BE DEVOTED TO PUTTING THE ANIMALS TO BED FOR THE NIGHT, FEEDING OURSELVES, CLEANING UP, AND MAKING PLANS FOR THE NEXT DAY.

DIXON AND MCELROY WERE GOING TO SPLIT SHIFTS WITH SOME OF THE OTHER MEN OF THE CONVOY. WE DIDN’T FEEL COMPLETELY CONFIDENT AND WANTED ONE OF US AWAKE AT ALL TIMES. IN THE END ANGUS AND I ALSO PULLED A COUPLE HOURS OF WATCH AS WELL DESPITE THAT FACT THAT WE WOULD BE DRIVING SINGLE AGAIN. THE NIGHT WAS UNEVENTFUL THOUGH WE DID HEAR A BUNCH OF ANIMALS OFF IN THE DISTANCE.

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING ONE OF THE ANIMALS GOT A LOT CLOSER. SOMEHOW A BEAR HAD SLIPPED BETWEEN THE VEHICLES AND COME TO INVESTIGAE THE ANIMAL TRAILER. I THOUGHT THE COWS WERE GOING TO HAVE CORONARIES. THE BEAR WAS HUGE, NOT A BLACK BEAR FOR SURE. MCELROY SAID IT LOOKED LIKE A KODIAK.

I KNEW THERE WAS A ZOO CLOSE BY AND I GUESS IT MUST HAVE ESCAPED FROM THERE. NOT A NICE WAY TO WAKE UP. AND THE REACTION OF THE BRADY AND NICHOLSON FAMILIES WORRIED ME EVEN MORE. THESE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SOLID RURAL FOLK USED TO ANIMALS AND SELF-SUFFICIENCY. APPARENTLY LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE IN LIFE, STEREOTYPES DON’T ALWAYS HOLD UP IN THE LIGHT OF REALITY. THE MORRIS FAMILIES DID FINE AND RILLA ASKED IF WE HAD TROUBLE WITH THE ANIMALS FROM BUSCH GARDENS OR LOWRY PARK. THAT SENT US OFF INTO A MORE DETAILED DISCUSSION OF CONDITIONS IN AND AROUND SANCTUARY. EVERYONE WAS INTERESTED BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW THE NICHOLSONS JUST WEREN’T LISTENING.

WE KEPT EXPLAINING THERE ARE NO SERVICES AT SANCTUARY THAT WE WEREN’T PROVIDING FOR OURSELVES. WE HAVE TO RATION, THERE ARE NO STORES. NO, LIVING AT A GROCERY STORE OR ANY OF THE BIG BOX STORES WASN’T AN OPTION AND MOST PLACES LIKE THAT HAD BEEN CLEANED OUT EVEN BEFORE THE QUARANTINE HAD GONE INTO EFFECT. OUR TWO DOCTORS ARE ACTUALLY MEDICS WHO WERE STUDYING ON THE RUN TO PROVIDE WHAT BASIC MEDICAL CARE THEY COULD. THEY KEPT GLOSSING OVER EVERYTHING, REMEMBERING WHAT THEY WANTED TO HEAR AND IGNORING WHAT THEY DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR.

ONCE WE FINALLY GOT ON THE ROAD WE INCHED ALONG US19, PASSING FIRST THROUGH HOMOSASSA AND THEN TO THE INTERSECTION OF US19 AND US98. THAT WAS THE WORST SNARL YET. IT BEAT EVEN THE AREA IN AND AROUND GAINESVILLE FOR MESS. YOU COULD TELL WE WERE CONSIDERABLY NEARER THE COAST AT THIS POINT AND THAT PEOPLE MUST HAVE USED ALL OF THE EVACUATION ROUTES IN AN ATTEMPT TO GET OUT BEFORE THE MILITARY COMPLETELY LOCKED THE AREA DOWN.

THE BUGS CRAWLING IN AND OUT OF THE CARS WAS BAD BUT PROBABLY NOT AS BAD AS IT HAD BEEN A MONTH OR TWO AGO. YOU COULD TELL WHERE THE OMNIVOROUS ROACHES AND RATS DIDN’T CARE WHETHER IT WAS THE CAR THEY NIBBLED ON OR THE BODIES INSIDE THE CARS. A COUPLE OF THE KIDS LOST IT BUT INTERESTINGLY RILLA SAID IT REMINDED HER A BIT WHEN SHE WAS VERY LITTLE AND HER PARENTS WERE STILL TRAVELING WITH HER FATHER’S EMPLOYER OVER IN ASIA AND THE MICRONESIA AREA OF THE WORLD. SHE SAID THE BUGS WERE REALLY BAD THERE AS WELL AND WESTERN STANDARDS OF SANITARY CONDITIONS WERE PRACTICALLY NON-EXISTENT EXCEPT IN PLACES LIKE HONG KONG AND TAIWAN.

THE YOUNGEST DRIVERS IN THE CONVOY WERE JUST BEAT. WE DECIDED TO PULL OVER AND EAT, ASSUMING WE COULD KEEP THE BUGS OUT OF THINGS, AND DO A LITTLE EXPLORING TO STRETCH OUR LEGS.

THE ROADSIDE BUSINESSES WERE INTERESTNG IN A MACABRE KIND OF WAY. SOME WERE LOOTED AND PRACTICALLY DESTROYED. SOME HAD BEEN PICKED OVER LIKE SOMEONE HAD A SPECIFIC PURPOSE OR ITEM IN MIND THAT THEY WERE LOOKING FOR. HARDLY ANYTHING HELD ANY INTEREST FOR THOSE OF US FROM SANCTUARY BUT EVERYONE ELSE WAS FASCINATED. THIS WAS THE FIRST “BIG CITY” THEY HAD SEEN LIKE THIS OUTSIDE OF NEWS BROADCASTS WHEN THE TV WAS STILL WORKING.

WE DIDN’T STAY THERE LONG. I FOUND IT DEPRESSING. SO DID MR. MORRIS AND HIS ADULT SON KEVIN. I LIKED THE MORRIS FAMILIES MORE AND MORE AS I GOT TO KNOW THEM. IN THE BUSINESS I WAS IN YOU HAD TO LEARN TO MAKE QUICK JUDGEMENTS OF PEOPLE’S CHARACTER. SOMETIMES I WAS WRONG BUT MOST OF THE TIME I WAS RIGHT AND MY SPIDEY SENSES WERE TELLING ME THAT THE MORRIS FAMILIES WERE GOOD PEOPLE. THEY WERE LEVEL-HEADED, DIDN’T PANIC, TOOK THEIR RESPONSIBILITIES SERIOUSLY, AND WERE VERY READY TO DO THEIR SHARE AND THEN SOME. WHAT MORE CAN YOU ASK OF A NEIGHBOR?

I TOLD DIXON THAT NIGHT THAT I WAS POSITIVE ABOUT THE MORRIS FAMILIES, WOULD ACCEPT THE BRADY FAMILY, BUT THAT I STILL HAD A PROBLEM WITH SOME OF THE WAYS THE NICHOLSONS OPERATED. ALL FOUR OF US MEN HAD THE SAME OPINION. THE SNAG WAS THAT IF WE DIDN’T TAKE THE NICHOLSONS WE COULD LOSE ALL FOUR FAMILIES. THE MORRIS FAMILY HAD THE FARMING AND ANIMAL CARE EXPERIENCE AS WELL AS SOME STONE MASONRY SKILLS. THE NICHOLSON AND BRADY FAMILIES HAD SOME ELECTRONICS AND METALWORKING SKILLS.

THE QUANDRY WAS DID WE TAKE IN A FAMILY THAT WE HAD A FEW PROBLEMS WITH, HOPING THAT IN TIME THEY WOULD ACCLIMATE TO OUR WAY OF DOING THINGS? DID IT MAKE IT EASIER TO MAKE THAT DECISION SINCE THEY HAD SKILLS WE NEEDED AT SANCTUARY? OF COURSE IN THE END ALL OF OUR CONCERN WAS MOOT SINCE THEY DIDN’T COME HOME WITH US BUT WE COULD VERY WELL RUN INTO THAT VERY SAME SCENARIO. IT WOULD BE BETTER TO IRON OUT OUR DECISION MAKING PROCESS AHEAD OF TIME.

ONCE WE MADE IT THROUGH THAT INTERSECTION WE ALMOST GOT LOCKED UP AT THE INTERSECTION OF US19 AND SR50. IT WAS SO BAD AROUND THERE WE DECIDED TO SIMPLY PARK FOR THE NIGHT. WE PULLED INTO WEEKI WACHEE SPRINGS PARK AND THAT’S WHERE WE STAYED FOR THE NIGHT. THE BIG DEBATE WAS WHETHER WE WOULD KEEP GOING ON US19 AS PLANNED, REGARDLESS OF THE TRAFFIC, OR WOULD WE TURN EAST ON SR50 AND GO TO BROOKSVILLE AND PICK UP US41 AND TAKE IT HOME. I WAS SO TEMPTED TO JUST SAY SCREW IT AND HEAD STRAIGHT FOR HOME. WE DECIDED TO SLEEP ON IT AND SEE HOW WE FELT IN THE MORNING AFTER HOPEFULLY A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 137 (Friday, December 15th)

Today has been one of those perfect Florida winter days; low humidity, in the low 70s with not a cloud in the cerulean blue sky. I opened every window in our house and aired it out. I also thought it was as good a time as any to air all the bedding including the mattresses. Scott wanted to know where I had gotten all the energy from and I put it down to him being home and things going well for a change. I wasn’t the only one feeling good and frisky either.

You will never guess what I saw. I was beginning to wonder if he was even into girls though I should probably slap my mouth for even thinking it was any of my business. I was minding my own business, blundering along through the orange grove easy as you please and then BAM! I hear, “Oh Henry, oh Henry!” and bizarrely all I can think about is the candy bar. But when I turned the corner that thought was knocked right out of my head. McElroy and Rhonda were all over each other like a fly and sticky paper.

Poor McElroy. He had been caught with his pants down … literally. Well, have you ever been so embarrassed all you could do was laugh? I think all three of us laughed more than we had in weeks. Those two are obviously happy with what they’ve found; and I mean the relationship though the other stuff seems to be working for them too. The only thing they asked was that I not make a big deal out of it. They were taking it “slow” and didn’t want to make things harder on Dixon and Rachel by being all happy and obvious.

I told them if that was their idea of slow that I’d hate to see their definition of fast. We all had another laugh at that but I really did understand. I told Scott and after he was done laughing he said that the two of them had hit it off right from the start. McElroy’s own mom was a single mother and he knew not all single moms deserved the rep that society sometimes gave them. Rhonda had been engaged before she got pregnant but they had put their wedding on hold until after he finished his education. She told me, “I’ll be honest. I was beginning to wonder if he went to New York to get away. He wasn’t real happy that I wouldn’t get an abortion and said some pretty nasty things before he left. He wanted a paternity test and all this other stuff. Well, he’s gone now and I want to be happy. I want this baby to have a male role model he or she can look up to. Who’d a thought the zombies would take away everything I had and give me the one thing I didn’t.”

There isn’t much you can say to something like that. They were right however, they needed time to work it out between them. I had a feeling Rachel might get a little testy once she found out. That can’t take long, after all she is our OB/gyn. Common courtesy and a real desire not to see Rachel and Dixon hurt is a noble thought. However, I am beginning to get faintly annoyed that we put reasonable expression of joy in life on hold just to avoid hurting them. How long are we going to pussy foot around? People covered for them rather than see a resolution of their love triangle with Patricia. Now that it is resolved – and only because Patricia herself decided to take the initiative – who are we supposed to be protecting them from? Each other? That’s warped.

Dixon seems more at ease than he did before the north Florida run. I’m wondering if seeing the scope of the NRS disaster has helped him come to terms with the changes in his life. Maybe Rachel should go on more runs. She’s been insulated inside Sanctuary for a while. I would hate for anything to happen to her, we need her, but at the same time she isn’t going to do anyone any good – especially not herself – if she can’t get a grip on the personal and societal changes we all are having to learn to live with.

In addition to all my cleaning I canned 21 quarts of orange juice and 14 quarts of tangerine juice. I’m hoping that the ponderosa lemon tree I found in the backyard of a house about two blocks on the other side of the canal will yield enough lemon juice for at least 30 pints of juice. As big as those lemons are I should get nearly a pint from one lemon alone. The juice will be really great for lemonade this summer, assuming we can find a way to pump cool well water to the surface.

In addition to more canning tomorrow … the oven is going to be hot anyway from it being Baking Day … I want to pull all the dried bean bushes and string them up so that they can finish curing. I want to get them harvested and packaged before the animals find them. We’ve had an increased problem with animals in the area. They seem to be coming out of the east just like the zombies did. Mr. Morris thinks it may be a result of displacement. The animals from where ever the burned area was pushed into a new habitat. The animals from that habitat were forced out and into a new area. And so on and so forth heading west until they reached us. What I don’t like is that they all look scrawny and stressed out like their previous habitat was failing and they’ve been on the run looking for a new one. If they did indeed come out of the east, what about all the strawberry fields and orange groves in east Hillsborough County, Polk County, etc.? Have they been wiped out? Surely there was something they could have stopped to eat.

James mentioned that a lot of the animals must not be making it because he sees a pretty constant flight of vultures off to the east. Matlock wants to keep an eye on that. Vultures can also be a sign of zombies. We don’t think so in this case however because the birds are staying way off to the east and then heading a little south. Zombies normally travel a straight line so long as there isn’t anything distracting them.

Jim and Angus made it back to Sanctuary just in time to share our dinner of Chicken Sausage Tandoori; it turned out great by the way. They have not one, but three, of the parts Tarpon Springs wanted. Tomorrow Jim will arrange a meeting with the Tarpon Springs enclave leaders after trade terms have been agreed upon. Angus says he’s interested in seeing the deal through to the end so will be Jim’s transportation and back up.

Johnnie and Bubby were my partners again when I went outside the Wall today. Maybe Scott was right and that giving them as much work as they can handle for a while is what they needed to re-instill discipline for them. Their mischievousness isn’t gone – that’s not what we wanted – but they are learning when it is appropriate behavior and when it is not. We don’t want to crush their spirit, we just need to channel it into more constructive outlets. The threat of extra chores is enough to bring them back in line these days. Their “play time” is a valuable commodity that they don’t want to lose as they have to work so hard to earn it.

Boy will I be glad when the days get longer. Not because I’ll be able to do more work although that is a consideration. No, I’ll just be thankful for more actual light. The artificial light from solar or candles is OK but is still limiting. I can’t get much reading done any more. I need to re-read books like An Encyclopedia of Country Living by Carla Emry, the Foxfire book series, the Reader’s Digest book Back to Basics. I also have a huge stack of books to read the first time around like Urban Homesteading, several recipe books and a couple of Florida pioneer journals Brandon brought back from the downtown library.

The pole wall added a bunch more sections today. Now that they have their assembly process down, so long as they have a supply of telephone poles cut and ready Scott thinks they’ll be able to manufacture and install up to ten sections a day; maybe more. That’s assuming they don’t hit any glitches. They had to cut through some roots today and that slowed them down a bit until they found a sharp limb trimmer.

I’d like to finish her and crawl in bed but I need to get ready to take a watch on the Wall. Tonight I’ll be at the guard tower near the rear gate. As tired as I am I’ll need to drink a gallon of tea to keep me wide awake.

 

[Kathy in FL]

SCOTT’S VERSION OF THE NORTH FLORIDA RUN (PART 5 - FINAL)

THE NEXT MORNING AFTER WE GOT UP I BASICALLY RECUSED MYSELF FROM THE DECISION OF WHETHER TO CONTINUE ON US19 OR TO MOVE ONTO CR50. I COULDN’T MAKE AN OBJECTIVE DECISION FOR THE GROUP; I WANTED MY WIFE AND KIDS SO BAD I HARD A HARD TIME STANDING IT.

DURING NORMAL TIMES I HAD NO PROBLEM BEING AWAY FORM HOME A WEEK OR THREE AT A TIME. SURE I MISSED THEM BUT IT WAS A NORMAL THING YOU FEEL WHEN YOU LIKE SOMEONE AND AREN’T WITH THEM FOR A WHILE. JAMES AND I WENT ON SEVERAL HIGH ADVENTURE VACATIONS AS HE WAS GROWING UP AND I HAD PLANNED ON DOING THE SAME THINGS WITH JOHNNIE. I’VE EVEN TAKEN THE GIRLS ON ADVENTURESOME OUTINGS WITH NO HYSTERICS FROM ANYONE. NOW EVERY DAY EXISTENCE CAN BE HIGH ADVENTURE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO LEAVE TO GET YOUR ADRENALINE RUSH, IT COMES TO YOU WHETHER YOU WANT IT OR NOT. AND YOU NEVER KNOW IF THE LAST TIME YOU SEE SOMEONE WILL BE THE LAST TIME YOU EVER GET TO SEE THEM.

I WENT OVER TO THE WEEKI WACHEE GIFT SHOP AND SNACK BAR AREA WHILE THEY DISCUSSED THINGS SO I COULDN'T BE ACCUSED OF UNDULY INFLUENCING ANYONE. BOTH SHOPS WERE PRETTY WELL WORKED OVER BUT I DID PICK UP SOME BOOKS FOR THE KIDS. THE LOOTERS ALSO MISSED A STORAGE CLOSET THAT HELD SEVERAL CASES OF INDIVIDUALLY PACKAGED BAGS OF POTATO CHIPS AND THREE CASES OF COFFEE, CREAMER AND THE LIKE. I WAS PUSHING EVERYTHING BACK TO THE SEMI IN A WHEEL BARROW WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT OUR ROUTE WOULD BE. THE DECISION WAS MADE TO CONTINUE ON US19.

WE GOT ON THE ROAD QUICKLY AFTER THAT. DIXON CAME OVER BEFORE WE PULLED OUT TO MAKE SURE I REALLY WAS OK WITH THE DECISION. I SAID SURE BUT ADMITTED I REALLY DIDN’T WANT ANY MORE DELAYS IF WE COULD HELP IT.

MY REASONS WEREN’T JUST BECAUSE I MISSED MY FAMILY. FUEL WAS GOING TO BE A PROBLEM SHORTLY. WE TRIED SIPHONING FUEL FROM SEVERAL OF THE STALLED CARS BUT THE TANKS WERE BONE DRY. EITHER THEY HAD RUN OUT OF GAS AND HAD BEEN ABANDONED WHERE WE FOUND THEM OR SOMEONE ELSE HAD GOTTEN TO THEM FIRST; PROBABLY A MIXTURE OF BOTH.

THE NEXT PROBLEM WAS REALLY TWO-FOLD; FOOD AND WATER. NEAR THE COAST THERE IS PLENTY OF WATER BUT ITS SALTY. OUR WATER FILTERS AREN’T DESIGNED FOR DESALINATION. THERE WERE SOME FRESH WATER SOURCES BUT THEY WERE FULL OF ALGAE AND CLOGGED THE INTAKES OF THE FILTERS. I WAS GLAD WE HAD FILLED ALL THE CONTAINERS WE COULD BACK IN CRYSTAL RIVER BECAUSE WE HADN’T FOUND A GOOD SOURCE OF WATER SINCE THAT STOP. WE HAD BEGUN TO RATION WATER FOR BOTH HUMANS AND ANIMALS. THE COWS WERE STILL MAKING MILK SO THAT HELPED SOME.

WHILE EVERYONE ELSE LOADED UP ON COFFEE, I DRANK MILK TO KEEP THE HUNGER UNDER CONTROL. WE WEREN’T STARVING BUT WE WERE RATIONING FOOD AS WELL AND BEING CAREFUL TO MAXIMIZE EVERYTHING THAT WE DID USE. THERE WAS MORE FOOD PACKED SOMEPLACE IN THE SEMI BUT I HATED THE IDEA OF STOPPING TO DIG FOR IT. THAT COULD HAVE ADDED A HALF-DAY OR MORE TO OUR TRAVEL TIME. NOMRALLY WE COULD HAVE FOUND SOMETHING IN THE HOMES AND BUSINESSES OFF THE ROADS WE TRAVELLED, BUT NOT THIS TIME. I CONTINUED TO BE ASTONISHED AT HOW PICKED OVER EVERYTHING WAS ALONG THE COAST, YET WE HADN’T SEEN A SINGLE LIVE PERSON SINCE CHIEFLAND. THE VEHICLES ALONG THE ROAD WERE EMPTY OF USABLE ITEMS AS WELL.

WE DROVE THROUGH HUDSON AND THEN INTO BAYONET POINT WHICH WAS RIGHT ON THE COAST AT US19 AND SR52. THAT WAS ANOTHER INTERSECTION FROM HELL. NOT ONLY THAT BUT WE COULD HAVE TAKEN SR52 TO GET TO US41. I TRIED TO STAY FOCUSED ON OUR PLAN. TONY DUNGY ALWAYS SAID, “DEVIATING FROM YOUR GAME PLAN IS A SIGN OF PANIC.” PANIC IS NEVER GOOD SO I AVOID EVEN THE APPEARANCE OF IT WHEN I CAN. I MAY HAVE GRITTED MY TEETH WHILE I PASSED THE TURN OFF BUT I DID ACCEPT IT.

IN BAYONET POINT IT LOOKED LIKE SOMETHING BESIDES ZOMBIES AND LOOTING HAD OCCURRED. THERE WAS A LOT OF DESTRUCTION, BUT NOT THE KIND YOU WOULD SEE FROM A RAGING WILDFIRE. THIS DAMAGE REMINDED ME OF OLD WW2 PHOTOS. SEVERAL HOMES WOULD BE NEARLY DESTROYED WITH COLLAPSED WALLS AND ROOF AND THEN THERE WOULD BE A COUPLE OF HOUSES WITH HARDLY ANY DAMAGE AT ALL.

WE HAD STOPPED FOR A MOMENT TO GIVE ANGUS A CHANCE TO BREAK THROUGH A TRAFFIC SNARL. DIXON RAN BACK TO ME AND THAT’S WHEN I FOUND OUT THE LIKELY REASON THINGS LOOKED THE WAY THEY DID; HEAVY WEAPONS FIRE OF SOME TYPE. WE WERE SO CLOSE TO THE WATER, NOT EVEN 100 YARDS AWAY, THAT THE ORIGIN OF THE VOLLEYS HAD TO HAVE BEEN SOME TYPE OF WATER CRAFT. WHEN I ASKED HIM COULD IT HAVE BEEN PIRATES HE JUST SHRUGGED; TOO LITTLE DATA FOR HIM TO BE SURE.

FROM THERE WE HEADED INTO PORT RICHEY AND THEN INTO NEW PORT RICHEY. THERE WE RAN INTO A GROUP OF SURVIVORS THAT HAD GOTTEN SURROUNDED BY ZOMBIES. WE DID WHAT WE ALWAYS DO AND USED JUICER TO GET THE PACK OF ZOMBIES DOWN TO A MANAGEABLE NUMBER THAT COULD BE HANDLED BY THE SHOOTERS. ONE OF THESE DAYS WE MAY WIND UP HELPING THE WRONG PEOPLE BUT WITHOUT SOME WAY TO KNOW FOR SURE WE’LL CONTINUE TO TRY AND TAKE THE HIGH ROAD AND MANAGE THE RISK AS BEST WE CAN.

TURNED OUT THE PEOPLE WERE FROM TARPON SPRINGS, A MEDIUM SIZED MUNICIPALITY A LITTLE FURTHER SOUTH. DIXON’S MAIN GOAL FOR THE NORTH FLORIDA RUN HAD BEEN TO DEVELOP RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHER COMMUNITIES; PRIMARILY TRADE AND COMMUNICATION LINES. AFTER THE DEMISE OF HALE HOLLOW ITS BRANCHES AND THE DRISCOLL’S THIS WAS ONLY THE THIRD COMMUNITY GROUP OF SURVIVORS WE HAD DIRECT CONTACT WITH AND SO FAR IT REMAINS THE GEOGRAPHICALLY CLOSEST. AT LEAST THAT WE ARE AWARE OF. WE DIDN'T COUNT MACDILL AS WE ONLY HAD INDIRECT CONTACT WITH THEM.

WITH COMMONSENSE PRECAUTIONS WE ALLOWED THEM TO LEAD US TO THEIR COMPOUND. I CAN’T SAY I’M REAL IMPRESSED. I MEAN THE PLACE LOOKS NICE ON THE SURFACE; QUAINT LITTLE FISHING TOWN SORT OF LOOK. ITS NOT EVEN THAT THERE IS ANYTHING PARTICULARLY WRONG WITH THEIR SET UP, ITS JUST NOT HOW I WOULD DO IT AND ON MINIMAL ACQUAINTANCE I FOUND SEVERAL SHORTCOMINGS THAT COULD BECOME MAJOR ISSUES. RATHER THAN CHOOSING A RESIDENTIAL SETTING FOR THEIR COMPOUND THAT WOULD ALLOW FOR INDIVIDUAL FAMILY UNITS, THEY HAD MOVED INTO THE TOURIST AND COMMERICAL DISTRICT RIGHT ON THE EDGE OF THE SPONGE DOCKS AND LIVED IN CONVERTED OFFICE SPACE FOR THE MOST PART. I SUPPOSE THAT IS JUST HOW THINGS DEVELOPED BUT IT WOULD SEEM TO ME THAT IT LEAVES THEM VULNERABLE TO STORMS AND PIRATES IN ADDITION TO ZOMBIES. NOT TO MENTION THE POTENTIAL FOR SOCIAL UNREST FROM HAVING TOO MANY PEOPLE LIVING TO CRAMMED TOGETHER.

I’M ALSO NOT REAL IMPRESSED WITH THEIR HYGIENE. AT FIRST IT LOOKS LIKE THEY HAVE A GOOD SEPTIC SYSTEM UNTIL YOU REALIZE THAT IT’S FEEDING INTO AN OPEN CESSPOOL NOT TOO FAR FROM THEIR DEFENSIVE PERIMETER. THAT CESSPOOL HAS STARTED RUNNING OFF INTO A STORM DRAIN SYSTEM THAT IN THE OLD DAYS WOULD HAVE OPERATED USING ELECTRIC LIFT STATIONS TO KEEP THINGS FROM BACKING UP. IF THEY EVER DO EXPERIENCE A BACK UP ALONG THIS SYSTEM, THEY COULD HAVE SEWAGE IN THEIR COMPOUND AND THEY WILL ALSO LIKELY RELEASE A BUNCH OF SEWAGE INTO THE GULF ITSELF POISONING A MAJOR SOURCE OF FOOD AND WATER FOR THEIR PEOPLE. INSIDE THEIR COMPOUND THEY HAVE A LARGE COMMUNAL BATHROOM THAT USED TO BE PUBLIC ACCESS BATHROOMS FOR THE TOURISTS. THEY ARE NONE TOO CLEAN EITHER. THEY USE WATER THEY FILL FROM THE DOCK TO FLUSH THE TOILETS AND FOR GENERAL WASHING. AS SOON AS I SAW THIS I COULD HEAR SISSY’S PREDICTIONS OF DOOM. I REMINDED EVERYONE IN OUR GROUP TO USE THE HAND SANITIZER JUGS THAT WALESKI INSISTED ON INSTALLING IN JUICER AND THE AVALANCHE. I DIDN’T WANT TO BRING ANY GERMS BACK TO SANCTUARY THAT COULD MAKE MY KIDS SICK. I GUESS SISSY'S CONSTANT RANTS ON THINGS LIKE CHOLERA, GIARDIA, E. COLI AND HEPATITIS HAD SUNK IN MORE THAN SHE THOUGHT.

THEIR COMMUNITY HAS HAD A FEW BATTLES WITH PIRATES. SO FAR THEY HAVE WON EVERY BATTLE EXCEPT FOR THE VERY FIRST ONE WHICH NEARLY HALVED THE NUMBER OF SURVIVORS IN THEIR GROUP. THEY DO CONTINUE TO DIRECTLY COMPETE WITH THE PIRATES FOR RESOURCES IN THE AREA BUT AGAIN, SO FAR SO GOOD AND THEY'VE WON MORE SKIRMISHES THAN THEY'VE LOST. THEY PROTECT THEIR HARBOR WITH WEAPONS THEY SCAVENGED FROM A COUPLE OF COAST GUARD VESSELS.

I DON’T KNOW IF I WAS ANXIOUS TO GET HOME OR WHAT BUT I JUST COULDN’T RELAX THE WHOLE TIME WE WERE THERE. NO ONE ELSE SEEMED TO SHARE MY FEELINGS. IN FACT WE THOUGHT WE HAD LOST ALL FOUR OF THE NEW FAMILIES TO THE SMOOTH TALKING CHARM OF THE “GOVERNOR” OF THE TARPON SPRINGS ENCLAVE. IN THE END HOWEVER MR. MORRIS SR. WANTED TO CONTINUE ON TO SANCTUARY. I THINK THE BRADY FAMILY MIGHT HAVE CONTINUED ON IF NOT FOR THEIR SON AND THE PRESSURE EXERTED BY THE NICHOLSON FAMILY. THAT’S FINE, SANCTUARY NEEDS PEOPLE WHO ARE COMPLETELY COMMITTED TO ITS SUCCESS, NOT JUST PEOPLE THAT PICK US AS THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS.

KEVIN MORRIS TOLD ME LATER HE DECIDED AGAINST STAYING PRIMARILY BECAUSE HE NOTICED THE YOUNG PEOPLE WERE BEING ALLOWED TO BEHAVE ANY WAY THEY LIKED, NO MATTER HOW DESTRUCTIVE SO LONG AS THEY DID IT OUTSIDE THE COMPOUND. SOME WERE VANDALIZING EVERY BUILDING AROUND, DRINKING, AND WASTING AMMO RATHER THAN DOING ANYTHING CONSTRUCTIVE. A COUPLE OF THE ADULTS WERE PRETTY IRRESPONSIBLE AS WELL AND WERE HANGING OUT WITH AND ENCOURAGING THE KIDS IN THEIR BEHAVIOR. ON THE SURFACE TARPON SPRINGS SEEMS LIKE A NICE PLACE, BUT THEY’VE GOT SOME PROBLEMS THAT COULD ESCALATE AND GET OUT OF HAND QUICKLY, LIKE AN ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN.

DINNER AND BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING WAS HEAVILY INFLUENCED BY THEIR LIFE ON THE COAST. IT WAS GOOD, BUT RICHER THAN I HAD BEEN USED TO. IT UPSET MY STOMACH ALMOST TO THE POINT THAT I GAVE FOOD POISONING A THOUGHT. I HAD THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO BE STUCK THERE ANOTHER DAY BUT DIXON SURPRISED ME BY ADMITTING HE TOO WAS BEGINNING TO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE. THEY ASKED TOO MANY POINTED QUESTIONS ABOUT SANCTUARY’S DEFENSES AND ABOUT THE PEOPLE LIVING THERE AND WHAT SKILLS THEY HAD.

AFTER A QUICK CONSULTAITON THAT INCLUDED THE MORRIS FAMILIES WE DECIDED TO HIT THE ROAD AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. QUICK WAS RELATIVE, BUT WITHOUT THE NICHOLSONS HOLDING US UP IT WAS QUICKER THAN WE HAD MANAGED SINCE THE CONVOY EXPANDED BACK IN TRENTON.

WHEN DIXON BROUGHT UP THE FACT THAT WE WERE LEAVING WE GOT MIXED REACTIONS FROM THE TARPON SPRINGS GROUP. SOME PEOPLE SEEMED GLAD WE WERE GOING, SOME SEEMED LIKE THEY WERE TRYING TO COME UP WITH A WAY TO FORCE US TO STAY, BUT MOST WERE TOO SELF-ABSORBED TO CARE ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. WE TURNED DOWN THEIR OFFER OF AN ESCORT. I CONTINUED TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE UNTIL WE WERE WELL AWAY FROM THE AREA. I FELT AN ITCH ON THE BACK OF MY NECK LIKE SOMEONE WAS WATCHING ME.

NONE OF US WERE ANXIOUS TO BACKTRACK TO SR54 SO I SUGGESTED WE TAKE TARPON SPRINGS ROAD BACK HOME. WE STOPPED FOR A BRIEF REST AT BROOKER CREEK PRESERVE WHERE I RAIDED THE SMALL GIFT SHOP THERE FOR MORE BOOKS AND A FEW SMALL TRINKETS THAT I THOUGHT SISSY MIGHT LIKE FOR THE KIDS.

AFTER BROOKER CREEK THE NARROW TWO-LANE ROAD BECAME VERY CONGESTED. I WAS REALLY GETTING FRUSTRATED. AT THE RATE WE WERE TRAVELLING THERE WAS A REAL POSSIBILITY THAT WE WOULDN’T MAKE IT HOME THAT NIGHT.

FINALLY WE REACHED GUNN HWY AND THEN FROM GUNN WE WENT TO VAN DYKE ROAD. WE WERE PRACTICALLY HOME FREE AT THAT POINT. THEN JUST WHEN I THOUGHT OUR LUCK HAD CHANGED WE RAN INTO A PROBLEM. THERE HAD BEEN SOME KIND OF ALTERCATION AT THE INTERSECTION OF VAN DYKE AND DALE MABRY HWY THAT HADN’T BEEN THERE LAST TIME WE WERE THROUGH. TWO BIG RIGS WERE NOW BLOCKING THE ROADS. ONE WAS JACK KNIFED AND THE OTHER WAS ON ITS SIDE. OUR FUEL WAS GETTING VERY LOW AND IT WASN'T WORTH THE HASSLE OF TRYING TO MOVE THINGS OUT OF OUR WAY.

I COULD HAVE PULLED MY HAIR OUT AND DID CURSE A BLUE STREAK UNTIL I REIGNED IT IN. WE WERE FORCED TO DETOUR A LITTLE NORTH TO PICK UP LAKE FERN ROAD WHICH CUT ACROSS TO US41. WE WERE WITHIN SIGHT OF SANCTUARY WHEN WE FINALLY PULLED ONTO US41 BUT IT WAS GETTING DARK ENOUGH THAT WE HIT OUR HEADLIGHTS.

WE HAD LOST RADIO CONTACT SOME TIME WHEN WE WERE IN TARPON SPRINGS. WE’VE WONDERED SINCE IF IT WASN’T SABOTAGE. DIXON SAID SOMEHOW THE CONNECTION HAD COME LOOSE INSIDE THE RADIO ITSELF. WE HAD POWER BUT NO SIGNAL IN OR OUT. WE DIDN’T NEED THE RADIO THOUGH TO SEE ALL THE EXCITED FACES ON THE WALL AND AT OUR GATE AFTER THEY RECOGNIZED US.

WHAT A WELCOME HOME! I COULD HAVE HELD ONTO MY FAMILY FOR DAYS. WHEN WE EVENTUALLY MADE IT TO BED I HAD THE FIRST GOOD NIGHT SLEEP SINCE WE LEFT.

WOULD I DO IT AGAIN? YEAH, I WOULD. I JUST DON’T WANT TO DO IT AGAIN TOO SOON. I ENJOY THE ADVENTURE OF GETTING OUT AND AWAY AND SEEING SOMETHING BESIDES THE INSIDE OF THE WALLS OF SANCTUARY; BUT TOO MANY THINGS CAN GO WRONG THESE DAYS AND MY RESPONSIBILITIES ARE TOO GREAT. THE RUN WAS IMPORTANT BUT I HAVE TO WEIGH THAT AGAINST THE IMPORTANT JOBS AT HOME.

I KNOW THAT JAMES AND DAVID WOULD STEP INTO MY SHOES BUT IF I CAN GIVE THEM TIME TO GROW MORE AND DO MY BEST NOT TO LEAVE SISSY TO RAISE THE LITTLE ONES BY HERSELF, I OWE IT TO THEM AND TO MYSELF TO DO WHATEVER THAT TAKES. EVEN IF THAT MEANS STICKING CLOSER TO HOME THAN MAYBE I WOULD IF I WAS SINGLE AND FOOTLOOSE AND FANCY FREE. I’M NOT A KID ANYMORE AND SOMETIMES BEING A GROWN UP SUCKS. BUT I WOULDN’T TRADE WHAT I DO HAVE FOR ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 138 (Baking Day)

Today wasn’t quite as nice as yesterday. It was a little cool but that wasn’t a bad thing while I was taking my turn cooking, canning, and baking. Got a lot of that accomplished so I’m feeling pretty good. I love it when I tick off more things on my “to do” list than I expect. Makes me feel all efficient and stuff.

Rachel, who has never been on any of the foodie rotations as far as I can remember, stopped by to lend a hand after she finished morning watch. It was kind of weird to see her there. She is one of “the women” here in Sanctuary but at the same time she isn’t. She doesn’t do stereotypical “women’s work” unless it applies directly to the hospital and Waleski does a bunch of that as well. That sort of sets her apart from the rest of us. If she isn’t needed medically she works guard duty or with Dante’ on the inventory stuff. She used to go on some of the gathering trips but she hasn’t done that in a while.

I didn’t know what to make of her being there but I tried to act normally. Patricia certainly seemed to welcome her into things with no problem. She set the tone and the rest of us tried to follow. Mostly Rachel just kind of wandered around, squeezing a few oranges here, stirring a pot there. I’m not sure she knew what she was doing there either. Part of me has lost patience with the drama of it all and part of me is sympathetic. I’m not sure which part of me will win out in the end.

Reading over some of my notes for a research project I did pre-NRS I remembered another way we could extend our flour. Now granted it’s not real different from the bean bread I made but it’s even higher in nutritional value. It’s kind of a take-off on the traditional Ezekiel bread that was very popular in the early conservative survivalist movements and in some early churches. My problem is that I only have a limited amount of the most traditional ingredients. Long term I’ll have to substitute here and there and hope for the best.

What I did was combine the following whole grains and ground them in my pedal-power flour mill that David built: 2-1/2 cups hard red wheat, 1-1/2 cups spelt or rye, 1/2 cup barley, 1/4 cup millet, 1/4 cup lentils (green preferred), 2 Tbs. great northern beans, 2 Tbs. red kidney beans, and 2 Tbs. pinto beans. I stirred the resulting flour well to distribute all the ingredients evenly. Then I measured 4 cups lukewarm water, 1 cup honey, and 1/2 cup oil into a large bowl and mixed it together well. To the freshly milled flour I added 2 tsp. salt and 2 Tbs. yeast and then added all of that into the liquids. That whole mess gets stirred for about 10 minutes. This is a batter-type bread and will not form a smooth ball. You may have to knead it just a little to get the last of the dry ingredients into the wet, but it will be messy.

I poured each batch of the dough into greased pans; 2 large loaf pans (10x5x3) or 3 med. loaf pans or 2-9x13 brownie pans. Then I let it rise in a warm place for one hour or until the dough was almost to the top of the pan. You can’t let this stuff rise too much or it will over flow the pan while baking. Then we baked the various batches 350 degrees F for 45-50 minutes for loaf pans and 35-40 minutes for brownie pans.

This recipe makes a very sweet, moist, cake-like bread. You can also add fruits and nuts for even more oomph. Combining grains and beans makes a complete protein which is what makes it so nutritious and that is something we are going to really have to keep in mind as time passes and we get away from foods that have been artificially enhanced during their commercial processing. The bread is also very filling and travels pretty well which is a plus.

Jim made contact with the Tarpon Springs group. He and Angus leave tomorrow to meet them at this little town called Elfers on SR54. This will keep them far enough away from Sanctuary’s territory that it won’t be easy to find us by chance alone.

My garden is hitting a lull. We are beginning to finish up all the salad greens. The dried bush beans have been hung to finish drying on the vines. The only thing that is really still making are collards and some of the winter squash.

Oooooo, I was so mad. I got up this morning and caught bunnies eating one of my patches of squash. Six of those cotton tailed nemesis made it to Betty who dressed them and showed us how to make rabbit sausage. It’s another fresh type sausage that will have to be used in the next day or so. And you won’t hear me crying over those little fluffy butts either. Argh! I know they serve a purpose in the food chain so I don’t want to completely eradicate them but by Jehosephat they better stay out of my gardens or else. Clark, one of Reba’s sons said, “Y’all done ever really want to make that woman mad. I know she says she ain’t much with a gun but you shoulda seen her pull that pistol Mr. Scott gave her. She looked like one of them girls in the comic books. One shot, one rabbit. ‘Course I think two of ‘em just gave up and died of heart attacks, but still. I ain’t even seen Momma do something like that.”

Scott told him, “Hang around son, I’ve seen her do quite a few amazing things over the years.”

Golly, I didn’t know whether to kiss the man or hit him. He can be such a tease. Don’t ever let anyone say that a man is in his prime in his 20s and 30s. The 40s aren’t too bad either dontcha know. And I plan on keeping him fed and happy so his 50s and 60s and beyond should be pretty good too. Wink, wink.

Yeah, I’m feeling fine and frisky myself. The holidays are here. We are all back together. Barring the occasional hiccup things are going pretty smooth. I know things will never be perfect – heck, they weren’t perfect before NRS – but compared to how we all started out we’ve pulled a really nice community practically out of thin air.

I told Scott how much I enjoyed reading the stuff he wrote on the North Florida Run. He admitted that writing was kind of cathartic and gave him a chance to review things and think about what he would change if or when he goes on another run. He knew that my journaling was a major source of “therapy” for me but I don’t think he really understood it before. But, I’m not sure this would be something he would use as regularly as I do. He’s a list-maker more so than a story-teller.

Tomorrow most of the men are planning on working a half day on the Wall. After that they’ll work on pet projects or take the rest of the day off barring any watcher on the Wall assignments. Scott said he’ll play with the kids tomorrow afternoon and basically give me a break to do what I want, sans kidlets in tow. Hurray! I love being a mom but every so often I just need some time to myself to recharge. In the morning I plan on taking Johnnie and Bubby and picking some fruit for a big fruit salad to go with dinner. I’m still undecided about whether to go after more lemons tomorrow or wait until next week. I’m not always comfortable going across the canals without back up but I guess we won’t be that far away from Sanctuary and I’m taking the cart.

I’ll probably take my journal and do a little sketch of the location of the new fruit trees that I found. They are kinda hidden and you have to take a convoluted path around all the overgrowth to hunt them out.

When I told the boys they needed to get to bed a little early I didn’t have a speck of trouble with them. What a change from just a month ago. They aren’t totally different kids, they can still be stinkers of the highest order, but they are more disciplined which takes away a lot of the worry that I was experiencing over them. And with those two behaving I have less trouble with the little girls who have been watching them closely and imitating all that they do.

Speaking of getting to bed early, that’s what I intend on doing for once. My late nights of planning and watch duty has taken the entire toll that I intend to let it for a while. Even with Jim and Angus off the roster we have several extra warm bodies to fill the lists out with. That Clark is a trip but is pretty stable for a young teen. The other Morris kids and their parents also help lighten the load. I like them. They are good solid people. I know they miss their home but I think Kevin said it best when he said, “home isn’t always a place; its family and good friends too.” That’s what Sanctuary is to Scott and I. We’ve lived in this same house for 13 years but its never felt as much like home as it does now.

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy!
Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 139 (The Day from Hell and then some)

God I am so scared. This day …

Sorry for all the bloody smudges on these pages. I banged my head really badly trying to get us set up in this attic. Stupid nail. It bled like a sonofagun and scared the boys. My poor little boys. They have either passed out from fear or exhaustion. We are surrounded for as far as my eyes can see. I think we are OK for now but I don’t know for how long. I’ve never seen a horde this big or one that has this many ragers in it … and … and other kinds that I’ve never seen. I don’t know what to call them. I can’t stop shaking.

To get my head together and to try and come up with a plan I’m going to write down how this horror show started. It will also keep me from wondering if everyone else made it back inside the Wall. I just can’t go there right now. Please God, oh please God, I’m begging you let everyone else be OK.

The day started out so promising. It was sunny but a little cool. I’m glad I made the boys wear both their jackets and hoodies now. They didn’t want to on top of having to wear their emergency packs but I pulled the Mom rule of either do what I say or stay behind. I kissed Scott goodbye as I had Johnnie and Bubby pile into the cart. We didn’t attach the trailer as we didn’t plan on doing all that much gathering. I told him we’d only be gone two hours at most, that we were going over to the lemon trees to get some fruit to juice and can.

It was just the boys and I so he made me take the .22 rifle in addition to the Mark III and my ammo bag. I don’t know if having all the extra ammo will do any good at this point, but at least we have it if we need it. I also strapped on the machete so we could hack through any overgrowth if we needed to. The winter has killed a lot of it back but it’s still there lying like hay in the way of walking. We weren’t the only group out. There was the group out bringing down telephone poles, the men putting up the poles, and another group out dismantling a couple of the closest houses so that we can build a gate house onto the rear gate area once the wooden skin reaches around to that point. Those are the only groups I know of for sure. I’m not counting Angus and Jim; I hope they are well out of this and safe where they are at.

We went out of the back gate and made our way over around the canal and to the house where the ponderosa lemon trees are. We stopped here and there to pick a few tangerines and oranges first before pulling down behind the house I had aimed for. As many fruit as I have taken those two trees are still loaded; at least they were, a lot of the fruit has probably been knocked down now.

My two little monkeys were up in the tree pulling fruit for me when the emergency signal started blaring over my little handheld radio. Before I could even pick it up, Dixon is practically screaming for everyone to get inside the gates NOW!!! Drop what we were doing, don’t worry about tools, just move it now!!!! I’ve never heard that tone in his voice. Never.

I never got a chance to answer, I think we dropped the radio at some point because it is no longer on my belt.

The boys jumped from the tree and we jumped back in the cart and hauled butt. I wasn’t panicking yet. I thought there had been an accident and they needed immediate help. It’s been one of my worries that a chain or pulley would snap and the telephone poles would come down and hurt someone.

I was up the driveway and out the gate of the house when I saw the first one lurching through bushes. I didn’t give it too much thought; there are always zombies wandering around. Any kind of sound attracts them so you have to be on guard all the time. But then there was another, and another, and some of them were doing things they shouldn’t have been able to do … like run. Oh crap. My eyes didn’t want to believe what they were seeing. I wanted to say that they were survivors running from zombies but survivors aren’t disfigured, snarling monsters.

I pulled around the main road leading to the back gate and we would have made it except we were suddenly cut off by three Ragers got between us and the gate. I swerved thinking I would take the long way around to the front gate but I found we were boxed in. I headed for the nearest house when a runner … a freaking RUNNER … came off to my left and tried to grab Bubby. I’m not the worst shot in Sanctuary but I’m far from being one of the best. At that proximity though I couldn’t have missed. Driving with one hand, I pulled the Mark III and put a bullet in the Runner’s head. Unfortunately the sound drew unwanted attention from several shamblers that were too close for comfort.

Now the panic started to set in. There was no place to go and every turn I made, whether on a street or through a yard, just led to another wall of zombies. When I saw the Ragers is when I started having trouble breathing. I got far enough away from the largest group I could and pulled into the driveway of a house we had cleaned out except for a bit of furniture. The house had an old manual garage door and I lifted it. The blasted thing made so much noise, screeching like a banshee as it went up. Johnnie floored the accelerator and nearly took me out as he ran the cart into the garage and into the hot water tank at the back of the space. I slammed the door down just as a smaller group of zombies figured out our location.

I heard a crash within the house itself and knew that there was nowhere to go but up. I grabbed our packs and thought I’d use the ladder hanging on the garage to climb up onto the roof but at that moment a big bastard zombie broke the glass on the garage’s back door. I looked up to pray for help and was blessed to see this place had an attic access out in the garage; that was unusual as they are usually only inside the house proper for security reasons.

Instead of the roof I propped the ladder so that we could get into the attic. I sent the boys up the ladder with all three packs and then I grabbed the rifle, the ammo bag, and a bag of some of the fruit we had picked and went up the ladder as well. I had my head in the opening when the zombies got the backdoor open and tried to catch me. I had my butt securely in the attic when the first one grabbed the ladder itself and started to CLIMB for ever loving sakes!!!! Zombies don’t run. Zombies don’t climb. It’s against the laws of nature or something.

I had planned to pull the ladder up with us but I had to kick it loose and to the floor of the garage to keep the zombies from following us. Staying back from the opening I grabbed the rifle thinking if they were coordinated enough to climb maybe they would be smart enough to pick it back up and use it.

But no, from what I’ve seen for the last couple of hours the “smart” ones aren't really smart … their brains may remember how to step and climb but they aren’t tool builders. I think it’s just an illusion that's encouraged by our fear.

Just to be on the safe side I put the cover back over the opening and pushed a couple of plastic storage tubs on top of it. The only sound in the attic was my wheezing. That startled me as I had expected to hear the boys. I jerked my head around looking for them in the gloom. They were on the very edge of a wooden storage floor that had been nailed down to the beams. Their eyes were huge and I’m afraid they may have been just on the ragged edge of going into shock.

I slowly crawled over to them and wrapped them in my arms. They were both soaking wet; they had urinated on themselves they were so scared. That gave me something I could focus on besides the zombies for a second.

I made them look at me and I told them by whispering close to their ears that they couldn’t go off of the wood or they might fall through the ceiling and down into the zombies. Then I had them get out of their wet things. Looking through the plastic storage tubs in the attic I found some old sheets and curtains. I tore the sheets into loin cloths and then had them wrap up in the curtains as best they could so that they could stay warm. Crawling across the beams I hung their wet pants and underwear as far from us as I could. They already smelled really strong and I didn’t have enough water to clean them up with.

Water. And thoughts of water led to food. And thoughts of food made me wonder about how long we might be stuck up in this attic. A big thump down below made me jump and I rammed my head into the plywood. A roofing nail caught me and it wasn’t a second before I felt blood running down my face. I thought the boys were going to scream but I managed to stop them just in time.

I could have probably used stitches but Rachel and Waleski weren’t exactly accessible so I made a pad out of the left over sheet and tied it to the spot on my head that was bleeding. It’s OK now but my hair is disgusting.

The lack of light was disturbing. I could barely see what I was doing. There was a fake dormer window on the far side of the attic but it was boarded over. It took me an hour to pry the panel off enough to see out. Then I wished I hadn’t.

There were zombies of every imaginable shape, size, and amount of decomposition everywhere. It was a virtual sea from the house’s front which faced Sanctuary’s direction onward. I could just see the rear gate and could see people on the Wall but I couldn’t tell who they were.

The attic was getting stuffy despite it being cool. It didn’t help to have the zombies in the house. The smell of rotting corpses overpowered even the smell of mold and mildew, the rotting furniture and carpet that wafted up from below. We were lucky that the insulation wasn’t too thick and that it wasn’t blown insulation as well. All I needed was for the boys to be breathing that crap in on top of all the potential germs from the zombies.

I used the machete to pry off the part of the ridge vent so that the stuffiness could escape a little faster. Then I had an idea. If I could find a pole, something to stick on the end of the pole, and some way to get that something to stay stuck on the end of the pole I might at least be able to let those on the Wall know where we were at.

I looked around. No poles but I did see some copper tubing that probably ran water to the kitchen once upon a time. It took me a bit of strength, but less than I had supposed, to rip up a good length of this. The “flag” was easy. I used one of the pillow cases that went with the sheets in the storage tubs I had already raided. The boys came out of their catatonic state a little bit as a result of the curiosity about what I was doing. Johnnie asked if I could put something on the sign to let them know we were here. I told him it was a good idea but I didn’t have anything that would write big enough for them to read it. Bubby pulled a big marker out of his pocket and gave it to me.

At the time I didn’t think to ask what he had planned using it for; I was just happy he had it. The “flag” wasn’t that big and I needed to write big enough they could read it. I put “Alive in Attic” and then the numeral three below that. Hopefully they could figure the rest out. I tried to shove the flag and pole out of the ridge vent opening but it wasn’t big enough, the copper kept bending and I was afraid it would break. I didn’t want to break the glass of the dormer window because I knew it was going to get cold and that window was one of our few protections from the elements. That left me to try and take off the round roof louver vent. I got lucky and there was a little bit of wood rot around the flashing that held down the vent in place. It only took me 45 minutes to get it disconnected enough that I could put our flag up through the resulting hole. I stuffed some insulation up into the vent to hold the pole in place and then went over to the dormer window to see when, or if, they noticed.

Fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes later there was a commotion on the Wall that faces our position. I’m nearly certain that they’ve seen it, but it is getting dark and there is nothing they can do for now. The boys finally crashed and burned after I had them eat an orange and a Clif bar from our emergency supplies. They are side-by-side as close as they can get to each other. Shortly I'll go over and add my body warmth to theirs but I want to keep watch a little longer.

Water won’t be a problem so long as our fruit holds out. We also have three canteens mostly full of water. I have a few ideas if we get desperate but it’s getting too dark to write them down. I wish they would have hung a sign over the Wall to let me know something. I just want to know that everyone else is OK. I can only imagine the state Scott must be in. I’m borderline crazy myself. Every bump against the house, inside or out, stretches my nerves just a little more. It’s not just the cold that is making my handwriting so shaky.

I made a little chamber pot that we can use. I dump it out through a bit of broken soffit on the opposite end of the house from where we are. The smell is overwhelming enough without adding our own to it.

It’s gotten so cold. All three of us are shivering. I’ve made a little tent out of what little bit I could find and the boys also have their reflector blankets from their emergency packs. We aren’t used to this exposure and with no way of knowing how cold it might get I can’t do much more than I have except continue to pray.

The last of the light is fading so I’m going to have to stop writing. Besides my head is killing me. It still feels like there is a nail in my scalp even though I can’t feel anything.

God, please don’t let anything happen to my little boys.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 140 - Trapped Day 2 (Dec 18)

Today is Monday. Excuse the sour tone of this entry, I’m not feeling all that great. We are still stuck in this attic. My boys have tried really, really hard to be good but they are barely five years old. It’s hard for little fellas to stay quiet all the time, not squirm, not be kids.

It doesn’t help that I didn’t really sleep all that much last night. I catnapped but I kept waking up cold or because some zombie would start banging into stuff down below. I finally fell asleep good and hard when something … I guess a Rager … got in the house. It must have turned over the refrigerator and it sounded like it tore off the stove door as well. I know it must have torn up a few walls and thrown furniture around before slamming out a window. After we heard the breaking glass things went back to “normal.” Or at least as normal as it gets when you have several dozen zombies wandering aimlessly in a house.

Of course that woke up the boys and I had to figure out what to do for them. Breakfast consisted of a piece of fruit and a granola bar. That didn't hold them for long. I just had a piece of fruit. For lunch/dinner I found a hot place where the dormer window sent down a stream of intense sunlight. It only made the water lukewarm but it’s all I figure out to do. I dumped a packet of instant broth in there and mixed it up as best I could. It took a long time to dissolve but I got most of the gritty flavor out of it. The boys drank it without complaint so I know they were hungry. To keep their hunger and thirst at bay I let the boys eat fruit whenever they wanted. They took a long nap in the middle of the day in a pool of sunshine and looked like two angels, one blonde and one dark-headed.

Early this morning Sanctuary figured out a way to give us information. They had a big piece of painted siding and they must have been using chalk to write on it. We would respond by wiggling the flag back and forth. First off, no deaths and everyone is accounted for; however, we aren’t the only ones that are stuck. J. Paul and McElroy are stuck on a roof just outside of the Wall. As soon as they rescue them they will come for us. Whatever they are planning it didn’t happen today. The last note of the day was obviously from Scott.

STAY SAFE
KEEP HOPE
BE THERE QUICKEST
WE LUV U!

Only a couple of times I had to remind the boys to stay quiet as mice. I watched over the boys and tried to play a few quiet games with them but mostly I stood watch. I feel like there is a jackhammer going off in my skull. The wound around the nail puncture is all swollen; I really did it this time. I can’t even stand to have my hair up. The boys thought it was weird to see me with my hair down in braids. I never wear it down outside of our bedroom. I have a hard enough time washing it without dragging it through who knows what. When the boys started wanting to count the number of gray hairs I have I gave them the boot and told them to go play quietly in their “tent” with the little plastic cowboys and soldiers they seem to carry perpetually around in their pockets.

Thinking of pockets reminds me that it is Wash Day. I’d give a whole lot for some of that wash water right now. I stink. The boys stink. There is no way I can put them back in those dirty jeans and underwear. They seem to be doing OK in the togas and loincloths that I made for them so I’m not going to say anything. The stink of the zombies crawls over everything. If this goes on much longer I’m going to make masks for the boys and myself. All this eau de decomp that we are breathing can’t be healthy.

These zombies are bizarre and I’ve had little to do but think about them all day. The majority of them are your garden variety zombies. They just wander aimlessly in a pack with no apparent leadership yet they still seem to move in roughly the same direction; kind of like a school of fish. Scott said when they were in Tarpon Springs there was some guy rambling on about how zombies were at least in part responding to lunar cycles. The closer you get to a large body of water that has tides you notice this even more. Scott said he saw this one group of zombies that with every change in the tides the zombies would move in and out almost like waves on the shoreline. Freaky.

Then there are the Ragers. We’ve seen some of these but never this many at once. Of course this horde is the largest one we’ve seen. If I had to guess they were proportionally the same as with other hordes but since they do a disproportional amount of damage there just seems to be more of them than there should be.

Next come the Flambé zombies. These injuries these zombies suffer come primarily from some type of fire or burning. There are a lot of them wandering about but not in any particular order. Some of them are so badly burnt they barely qualify as walking skeletons and I haven’t a clue how they are still supporting themselves. May aren’t, they – or what remains of their body – gets dragged along on skeletal arms. I try and not look too close at these types but for scientific sake I can tell you many have bits of skull showing, compound fractures, missing soft tissue, etc. I try and keep the boys away from the dormer as much as possible because I don’t want their little psyches mucked up any more than they already are.

The Shamblers are the extreme end of zombie life, or maybe that should be death. I don’t know. Many are in extreme stages of decomposition and/or have extreme physical damage to the body. Many begin to fall out of the “school” of zombies. I mean that they don’t follow the group as well. Partly because they’ve slowed down but I also think because the NRS infected brain itself has reached advanced stages of decomposition and can no longer get signals through its messenger pathways to the rest of the body. These are the zombies you most often see in singles and pairs wandering aimlessly from some unknown point A to some equally unknown point B.

A new variety of zombie is the Runner. Talk about having to rethink all of our protocols for zombie defense. The zombies that we’ve had experience with up to this point are only quick when they are older than an hour but less than two hours reanimated. Or, the other “quick” zombie would be a Rager. The Runner isn’t a Rager. They don’t exhibit the same severe, animalistic response that the Ragers do. They are simply able to run … and quickly, at least for a zombie. Most of the Runners that I’ve seen have few injuries and little decomposition. Once a Runner begins to have the more noticeable signs of decomp they appear to start slowing down. An injury quickly reduces a Runner to a Shambler. They don’t seem to have much of an existence, if you want to call it that, except to run. When something trips a Runner up they wallow in seeming confusion until they get back to their feet and get coordinated enough to speed up.

I’m not sure what to call this next zombie. I started to call it a Climber, but that isn’t strictly accurate. These zombies, unlike all but the Runners and the Ragers, seem to still have more than a modest amount of coordination. I’m not sure if all zombies are capable of being this way or if something makes these zombies different. Advanced decomposition or injury, especially from the shoulders up, causes this ability to disappear. I have a theory but no real way to see if it is true or not. Whatever the zombies were in life, it involved a repeated physical behavior that became so ingrained in the brain function that death couldn’t erase it from the neural pathways. Maybe someone worked out aerobically several times a week or someone took the stairs to their office rather than the elevator. Or I saw a young male zombie throwing rocks … maybe they played baseball when they were alive. I saw another elderly male zombie swinging whatever he had in his hands … maybe he golfed on a more than regular basis. I don’t know but it mimics real life enough to freak me the heck out.

There are only a very, very few of the last distinct type of zombie and for that I am eternally grateful. You’d think Ragers would be the worst. Not to me. I’m calling these zombies “Mutants.” The NRS appears to have gone cancerous from what little I’ve been able to observe. The Mutant zombies have growths over part or all of their body. They are also extremely cannibalistic. They seem to thrive on ripping their own kind to shreds and then eating them. I’ve watched them. They actually hunt their own kind. I’ve also seen two Mutants “work” together. Now that’s scary as all get out. On the other hand, if they are ONLY cannibalistic maybe we don’t have anything to worry about. I don’t want to take that chance but it is something to think about over time. I have a couple of theories about the Mutants. First, a regular zombie may accidentally bite or eat another zombie. We’ve witnessed that behavior ourselves. Over a given period of time, the infected flesh of a zombie diet causes the NRS to mutate or be poisoned in some way and the cannibalism and growths are the result of that continued behavior. Theory two is that the NRS virus that the corpse had been infected with was already mutated and the cannibalism is a direct result rather than a byproduct.

Oh for pity sake, what do I know? I’m a freaking house frau whose last day in a college classroom was over 20 years ago.

Why didn’t they come today?! Did they just not tell us that the rescue of J. Paul and McElroy was unsuccessful? Was disastrous?

Its cold and I’m freezing. But I’m sweating at the same time. I should be hungry but I’m not. I’ve eaten a little fruit but my stomach wants to reject everything. I’d rather save the stuff for the boys than have to worry about wasting food and cleaning up my own puke on top of that.

I’m done for the night. Please God, get me through this and keep my little boys safe.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 141 – Tuesday (Dec 19) – Trapped Day 3 – All Fall Down

I’d like to bless this day out with every curse known by the foulest sailor that ever sailed!

[Picture me taking a deep breath and dropping the hysterical drama queen act.] The truth is that no matter how I feel I can’t just let it all hang out. I have two impressionable little boys looking to me to be their sole example of how to behave in this dangerous situation. I need to be calm. I need to be cool. I need to be collected. I need to maintain a balance between what is going on and how I’m reacting to it.

Balance, and the lack of it, has been a running theme today. I woke up feeling all grungy and crappy. The boys were out of sorts as well. We were cold, filthy … attics are not exactly the cleanest places on the planet … and hungry. The boys were ravenous and would have eaten the last bit of everything we had if I hadn’t been there to stop them. I ate because I needed to keep my energy up, not because I really had any appetite. I have been saving a packet of broth and two granola bars back for the boys and may have to just go ahead and use them up tomorrow. The fruit will last one or two more days at most. Not only that, I caught a rat sniffing around the bag. I’m going to have to catnap during the day so that I can stand guard over the bag tonight. We can’t afford to lose any food. I also can’t afford for the boys to become rat-bitten. They are going to have to sleep with their shoes and gloves on tonight. I just can’t get the picture of some rat nibbling on their little fingers and toes while I'm sleeping out of my head. I’m going to make them sleep with the hoodies up for the same reason.

Without the fruit we were going to be in a major amount of trouble concerning water. Then a little after lunch time it started raining; not heavily but enough that I shoved a quickly-emptied tub under where I had torn off the ridge vent so that I could catch some water. I’m not sure how safe it is to drink without processing it, but finding a balance between dying of thirst or drinking the rainwater and I err on the side of life. We’ll just use that water as a last resort.

I can tell the boys’ sugar levels are going up and down based on when they eat. They get really wired up and then they tank for a while. It was making me crazy but no worse than usual. Boys will be boys after all. I’ve played every quiet game I can think of. My brain is completely mush. They’ve decorated the “floor” that we’ve been sitting and sleeping on with the marker that Bubby had in his pocket and a couple of crayons that Johnnie had shoved in his pockets. It has roads, mountains, fences for the cowboys to put their “cattle and horses” in, seas with fish and whales, and some really fantastic creatures as well. The one thing neither of them was interested in drawing or including in their art are zombies. I think this was their way of escaping to a place safe from the undead.

The thing that worries me though is that they’ve taken to sleeping for long periods today. The first day was just a long, exhausted nap in the middle of the day; understandable and expected. Yesterday they catnapped off and on but I didn't think much of that either. Today it’s been much more exaggerated. I don’t know if it’s the lack of real food, effects from constant fear, boredom … I’m not sure, but it scares me. Especially considering how high-energy these two are normally.

I kept wondering when Scott was going to come. They had put the piece of siding up with a message on it but the rain made reading it impossible. It’s not that it was raining all that hard, it pretty much stopped after that one big downpour. The stupid dormer fogged up on the outside and had all these water droplets all over it too. It’s a false window so I can't exactly open it up and wipe it off.

I was getting so frustrated. I should have known that trying to do anything while I was feeling this way required greater care but I don’t guess I’m thinking as clearly as I thought I was. During one of the boys’ naps I decided to empty the chamber pot. The temperature started dropping after the rain finally passed through which is making my glasses fog up. And I was just in a pissy mood to be honest. Maybe I should have taken a nap. I was crawling through the rafters with the chamber pot in one hand and using the other hand to help me balance on the ceiling joists. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what happened.

I was half way to the other end of the house when my foot slipped off of a joist. I tried to grab a rafter to keep my balance but couldn’t hold on and keep my full weight from going through the ceiling. I fell forward trying to grab the next set of rafters but couldn’t keep myself from cracking the drywall under me. I went through with both feet. Luckily I caught myself one-armed around the ceiling joist but Lord it hurt. My armpit feels like someone shoved a hot poker up in it. My side is also scratched up though I don’t think I have any more splinters than the few I picked out.

You have no idea how vulnerable a person feels dangling into a room full of NRS infected zombies only to realize that the only thing on their decomposing brains is having you as their next meal. The boys woke up as I crashed through the ceiling so their screaming was added to the cacophony of noise. I was screaming at them to be quiet and stay where they were which only drew more attention to me. One of the slimy bastards grabbed one of my feet and started pulling. Have mercy, but that hurt. I don’t know if one tried to bite me or not; it just burned like a sonofagun. I was doggone lucky there were no Ragers in the house or I would have been toast in seconds.

I kicked the zombie’s wrist with my steel-toed work boots that I always wear when I’m outside of the Wall and could hear bones crunch and … things … tear. As soon as it loosened its grip I pulled myself up and out of their reach and lay across the rafters breathing fast and hard. As soon as my heart stopped thumping so hard that it hurt, I crawled back over to the boys as quickly as my bruised and body would let me. I gathered their sobbing little souls into my arms and we all held on to each other for dear life for quite a while. They won’t let me more than a few feet from them now without watching me like a hawk. Any sudden movement and they jump and make a grab for me which then makes me jump and feel like I'm falling again.

I took my boot off and didn’t see any kind of visible damage to the skin. I didn’t think I had been bitten but the visual evidence certainly gave me comfort. But I’m sore. I am really very sore. I’ve definitely pulled a few things that should not have been pulled. All the unnecessary acrobatics made my headache come back and I must have banged the nail wound at some point because the scab got knocked off and I started bleeding again. Everything is complaining … my body, my mind, and my spirit.

As the sun began to set I noticed an odd thing. It looked like the sunlight was flickering on and off, then on and off, then on and off again. I was pretty groggy but finally woke with a start. I crawled over to the dormer despite the boys’ complaints. Someone in Sanctuary was aiming a spotlight right at the dormer. The light nearly blinded me but I finally noticed the board and it said “wave the flag to let us know you are OK.” I had the boys wiggle the flag back and forth. I swear I could hear cheering. I know it must have been my imagination but the people on the Wall were jumping up and down.

A moment later they put another sign up that read:

JP HOME MCE STUCK
TRY AGAIN TOMORROW
BE SAFE MISS U
WE LUV U!!

Maybe we’ll be rescued tomorrow. I don’t see how. There are too many zombies. The Ragers are congregating around the Wall and gate areas. I hear someone shooting at them when they get too close but there isn’t enough ammo to control this entire horde. I know it might be wishing troubles on other folks, but I wish the horde would just move on and leave us alone. I want to go home. I’m reaching my limit, physically and mentally.

I’m going to try and get one last little nap in before night sets all the way. I’ve got rat watch for the rest of the night.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 142 – Wednesday (Dec 20) – Trapped Day 4

Just another rotten day in paradise. On top of everything else I think I’ve got a lousy cold coming on. Couldn’t ask for better timing.

It’s freezing. This is Florida for pity sake. I held the boys in my arms most of the night to keep them up off of the floor … ceiling … whatever. I wrapped us all up together as much as possible. I really did feel like a mother hen trying to keep her chicks warm under her fluffy feathers. But every time they moved I felt like something was raking my body over the coals. Note to self: if we get back to Sanctuary we must include pain relievers in our emergency packs, at least the adult ones.

The boys slept most of the morning away; not a good sign, but at least they weren’t awake and crying for something to eat. When they finally did wake up they were pretty groggy and cold. I had thought of something about the middle of the night and pulled one of the canteens under the covers with us. The water wasn’t that warm but it was warm enough to dissolve the instant broth and that’s what the boys had for breakfast. Within an hour they were slowly coming back to themselves and started eating fruit again. I welcomed the slow transformation as much as I’ve despised my slow deterioration through the day.

Every time I cough it hurts. I’m having a hard time focusing as well. I keep losing time. I leaned on the dormer most of the day trying to catch a glimpse of what might be happening in Sanctuary. By late afternoon the boys were ready to sleep for the night. I think something went wrong. No new signs on the Wall. Nothing that I can see. I’m going to bed with the boys. Maybe tomorrow. Please … please tomorrow.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 143

Im sick. bad sick. Gav mi boys the gronola bars for fod. Showd them watr. Frut all gown. zumbis evrywere. no plase to run. no plase to hyde.

Im scerd that Ill hurt thim whn I die. I tyed me to raftr wit mi belt. Best I can du. Kep boys safe frum me. Showd gun in case bad mom cum bak. Cry an cry. Cant stop but haf to do gud four them. Them cum first.

Scott, wen u reed this I lov u and boys and kiddos. Just two sik and tyrd. Don be mad. Don be sad. Its jus life sometimes. will cee u abuv sum day.

Tak care of all. Luv you
sisy

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 144 – Friday – (Dec 22) - 1

SISSY FINDS SO MUCH COMFORT WRITING IN THIS BOOK OF HERS. MAYBE I WILL TOO. NOT THAT I DESERVE ANY. I SIT HERE IN THIS CHAIR STARING AT HER FACE. SHE’S PALE AS WAX. IF IT WASN’T FOR THE SLIGHT RISE AND FALL OF HER CHEST I WOULDN’T KNOW FOR SURE THAT SHE WAS ALIVE. AND THAT’S MY FAULT. I DIDN’T GET THERE FAST ENOUGH. I WANT SISSY TO READ THIS, TO KNOW WHAT I FELT, TO KNOW THAT I'LL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO MAKE THIS UP TO HER AND THE BOYS.

I’VE READ WHAT THEY WENT THROUGH UP IN THAT ATTIC AND I FEEL LIKE SUCH A USELESS ASSHOLE. HER LAST CONSCIOUS ACTION WAS TO TRY AND PROTECT US ALL BY TYING HERSELF TO A RAFTER BY RUNNING HER BELT AROUND IT BEFORE REBUCKLING IT. SHE HAD DONE IT SO TIGHT I WOUND UP HAVING TO CUT IT TO GET HER LOOSE. IN HER NOTE SHE TOLD ME NOT TO BE MAD OR SAD. SHE TOLD ME TO GO ON, BUT I CAN’T. I CAN’T STOP FEELING LIKE I LET HER DOWN, HER AND THE BOYS. GOD THIS HURTS SO BAD.

DAMN, DAMN, AND DAMN ALL THESE ROTTEN MOTHER ****ERS TO HELL AND BACK TEN TIMES OVER!!!!!!!!! IF I LOSE HER I DON’T KNOW HOW I’LL STAND IT. I KNOW I’M ALREADY HALF CRAZY. WALESKI, DAVID, AND JAMES ARE THE ONLY ONES WITH THE BALLS TO GET NEAR ME FOR ANY LENGTH OF TIME RIGHT NOW. ANGUS AND JIM WERE IN HERE EARLIER BUT THEY ARE BUSTED UP PRETTY BADLY THEMSELVES AND HAVE HAD TO GO LAY DOWN. THE GIRLS ARE TOO SCARED TO DO MUCH MORE THAN EDGE INTO THE ROOM AND SIT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BEDS WHERE SISSY AND THE BOYS LIE SLEEPING. MATLOCK AND DIXON TRIED TO TALK TO ME BUT I JUST CAN’T RIGHT NOW. I’M TOO PISSED OFF. DOESN’T MATTER IF I UNDERSTAND THAT THEY’VE JUST BEEN DOING THE BEST THEY CAN FOR THE GROUP. THAT’S MY WIFE LYING IN THAT BED, NOT THEIRS. EVERYONE ELSE SKITTERS IN AND OUT LIKE THEY ARE AFRAID OF ME NOTICING THEM.

IT WAS A NIGHTMARE ON SUNDAY. IT STARTED OUT SAME AS ALWAYS. WE WERE GETTING THE PALLISADE WALL UP AND MAKING GOOD PROGRESS. THE GUYS BRINGING IN THE TELEPHONE POLES HAD JUST SHOWN UP AND WERE OFF-LOADING THE NEW POLES. MCELROY AND J. PAUL HAD GONE TO GET THE TOW TRUCK TO HELP MOVE A COUPLE OF REALLY LONG POLES AROUND. ALL OF A SUDDEN SAMUEL COMES SCREAMING ACROSS THE COMPOUND HOLLERING FOR HIS DAD. JAMES, STATIONED AT THE REAR GATE, BEGINS SHOOTING FAIRLY QUICKLY USING THE REMINGTON 700P THAT MATLOCK HAD FOUND FOR HIM.

DIXON HAD RUN UP THE TOWER AND THEN STARTED YELLING FOR ALL OF US TO GET IN, TO GET IN RIGHT NOW. HE WAS CALLING EVERYONE ON THE RADIO. IT WAS ALMOST TOO LATE FOR US. WE CLIMBED UP THE WALL BECAUSE ZOMBIES HAD ALREADY REACHED AROUND ON BOTH SIDES OF SANCTUARY AND WERE BEGINNING TO COME OUT OF THE BUSHES AND TREES TO CUT OFF OUR ABILITY TO GET INTO THE FRONT GATE. IT WAS LIKE A TSUNAMI. DAMN BUT I’VE NEVER SEEN A HORDE MOVE SO FAST AND I HOPE NEVER TO SEE IT AGAIN. THEY WERE FAST AS A GROUP AND SOME OF THEM WERE FAST AS INDIVIDUALS TOO. THE FIRST TIME I SAW ONE OF THOSE FREAKY RUNNING ZOMBIES I COULDN’T BELIEVE MY EYES.

WE CLIMBED WITH WHAT TOOLS WE HAD ON US. I USED A COUPLE OF SCREWDRIVERS AND WOULD STAB THEM INTO THE WOOD TO GAIN SOME PURHASE. MATLOCK AND I WERE PUSHING MR. MORRIS AHEAD OF US WHILE HIS SON KEVIN PULLED HIM FROM ABOVE. HANDS REACHED DOWN TO PULL US IN AS SOON AS WE WERE WITHIN ARMS LENGTH OF THEM. WE WERE ALL ON TOP OF THE WALL LOOKING AT ZOMBIES FOR AS FAR AS THE EYE COULD SEE WHEN KEVIN GOES, “MY GOD, BETTY!!!” HE TEARS OFF DOWN THE TOWER STEPS AND HALF WAY ACROSS THE COMPOUND BEFORE BEING MET BY REBA TELLING HIM THEY WERE OK, BUT THAT BETTY HAD SPRAINED HER ANKLE IN A FALL.

THAT’S WHEN I LOOKED AROUND AND STARTED CALLING FOR SISSY. I NEARLY LOST IT RIGHT THERE; SHE AND THE BOYS WERE NOT IN. I DIDN’T WANT TO BELIEVE IT BUT SHE WOULD HAVE ANSWERED ME IF SHE HAD BEEN WITHIN HEARING. DIXON REALIZED THE PROBLEM AND STARTED CALLING ON THE RADIO. MATLOCK MADE A HEAD COUNT TO ACCOUNT FOR EVERYONE.

THE ZOMBIES WERE STRAINING AT THE GATES AND JERRY AND JACK DROVE TRUCKS IN FRONT OF THE GATES TO ADD SOME WEIGHT TO KEEP THE GATES FROM BEING PUSHED OFF OF THEIR TRACKS. I SCREAMED “NO! THEY’RE STILL OUT THERE!! STOP!!!” BUT NO ONE WAS LISTENING TO ME. DAVID WAS READY TO GO OUTSIDE WITH ME BUT JAMES SCREAMED DOWN FROM THE GATE TOWER, “DAD! DAVID! STOP! YOU’VE GOTTA STOP!!! MOM WOULD DIE BEFORE SHE’D WANT YOU TO JUST RUN OUT THERE! PLEASE DAD, LOOK WHAT’S OUT THERE FIRST!!!”

I RAN UP TO THE GATE TOWER AND NEARLY STOPPED BREATHING. THERE WERE ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE! THEY WERE IN, ON, AROUND, UNDER … THINK OF A PREPOSITION AND THAT’S WHERE THE ZOMBIES WERE. WE CALLED AND CALLED ON THE RADIO. I WAS SO PISSED AT THE WORLD BY THEN I COULDN’T STAND TO EVEN LOOK AT ANYONE. I KNOW I WAS SHIT TO PEOPLE BUT I STILL CAN’T CARE VERY MUCH ABOUT IT. I’LL DEAL WITH IT LATER. AFTER SISSY WAKES UP AND TELLS ME SHE FORGIVES ME AND STILL LOVES ME.

DAVID, ROSE AND JAMES MUST HAVE TAKEN CARE OF THE YOUNGER GIRLS. I KNOW PATRICIA WAS THERE TOO. I’M SURE THE OTHER WOMEN WERE LOOKING AFTER THINGS AS WELL; I JUST DON’T REALLY REMEMBER MUCH TO BE HONEST. ALL I SEEMED TO BE ABLE TO FOCUS ON WAS THE FACT THAT THEY WERE OUT THERE AND I WASN’T WITH THEM TO PROTECT THEM.

BEKAH WAS THE ONE WHO CALLED ANGUS AND JIM ON THE BIG RADIO TO LET THEM KNOW ABOUT THE ZOMBIES. I HEARD DANTE’ TALKING TO PATRICIA AND HE SAID SHE HAD BEEN CRYING PRETTY HARD AND ANGUS RESPONDED FOR THE ENTIRE WORLD TO HEAR, “DON’T YOU WORRY LITTLE GIRL, UNCLE ANGUS AND UNCLE JIM WILL BE BACK JUST AS QUICK AS WE CAN.” GOD BLESS AND KEEP THOSE TOO LUNATICS FOR THE REST OF THEIR DAYS.

SISSY AND THE BOYS WEREN’T THE ONLY ONES STUCK OUT IN HELL AND OUR FAMILY WASN’T THE ONLY ONE SUFFERING. MCELROY AND J. PAUL WERE ALSO MISSING. THINGS FINALLY CALMED DOWN ENOUGH THAT WE COULD GET A RADIO SIGNAL FROM THE MEN. THEY WERE HIDDEN IN A VALLEY OF A ROOF AND AFTER THEY DESCRIBED THE HOUSE WE COULD JUST SEE THEM; THEY WERE MAYBE 75 YARDS FROM THE WALL ON THE OTHER SIDE OF ONE OF THE HOUSES WE WERE DISMANTLING. MCELROY’S KNEE WAS BUSTED UP PRETTY GOOD BUT THEY HAD IT WRAPPED AND HAD STOPPED THE BLEEDING. MR. MORRIS HAD CHEST PAINS BUT MOSTLY HAD JUST BEEN SCARED BAD. NO ONE WAS BITTEN, BUT WE HAD SOME PRETTY GOOD SCARES AND CLOSE CALLS. I KNOW THAT SHOULD HAVE MEANT SOMETHING TO ME AT THE TIME BUT I WAS NUMB.

NO SISSY. NO JOHNNIE OR BUBBY. ALL I COULD HEAR WAS THE ROARING IN MY EARS MOST OF THE TIME. ABOUT MID-AFTERNOON I THINK, I’M SCANNING BACK AND FORTH LOOKING FOR SOME SIGN OF THEM OVER NEAR THE HOUSE WHERE THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE PICKING FRUIT. I KNOW SHE TOLD ME THAT IS WHERE THEY WERE GOING TO BE SO THAT IS WHERE I LOOKED. THEN DAVID AND JAMES WERE SHAKING ME AND POINTING IN A DIFFERENT DIRECTION.

I DIDN’T WANT TO BE BOTHERED UNTIL DAVID FINALLY GOT THROUGH TO ME BY SAYING “LOOK DAMMIT! IT’S A FLAG!!” AND PHYSICALLY FORCED ME TO TURN IN THAT DIRECTION. WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS JUMPING UP AND DOWN AND CHEERING I THINK I MIGHT HAVE NEARLY PASSED OUT. DAVID AND JAMES BOTH SAT ME DOWN IN THE TOWER AND I WOUND UP WITH MY HEAD BETWEEN MY KNEES. I WILL ADMIT I HAD BEGUN TO LOSE HOPE AND TO HAVE IT SLAMMED BACK INTO MY CHEST WAS ALMOST MORE THAN I COULD BEAR. I CAN GIVE A SHIT IF THE OTHER MEN THINK I’M WEAK OR NOT. SISSY IS MY LIFE. SHE WAS THERE FOR ME WHEN EVERYONE ELSE LEFT … MY BEST FRIEND AFTER ONE TOO MANY BEERS DRIVING DRUNK AND HITTING THAT POLE; MY DAD WITH THE HEART ATTACK; MY MOM FROM CANCER; MY ELDERLY AUNT AND UNCLE WHO WERE LIKE SECOND PARENTS; MY OWN SISTER WHO JUST LEFT WITHOUT REASON OR NOTICE FOR PARTS UNKNOWN AFTER OUR PARENTS DIED. AND I COULDN’T SAVE MY WIFE AFTER ALL THE CRAP WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER. WHAT A SHITTY WAY TO REPAY HER.

I WAS FEELING RELIEF THAT THEY WERE ALIVE BUT I WAS ALSO EXPERIENCING SHEER TERROR. THERE ARE HUNDREDS, MAYBE THOUSANDS OF ZOMBIES BETWEEN ME AND THEM. WE HAD NO WAY TO GET TO THEM. NONE THAT WEREN'T GUARANTEED SUICIDE. THE ONLY HOPE WE HAD AT THAT POINT WAS THAT AT THE RATE THE ZOMBIES WERE MOVING THROUGH WE THOUGHT THEY WOULD HAVE ALL MOVED ON BY MORNING AND WE’D BE ABLE TO GET THEM OUT OF THE ATTIC THE NEXT DAY. WE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO MAKE A SIGN TO LET THEM KNOW THAT WE HAD SEEN THEM, DARK HAD SET IN.

SISSY’S JOURNAL SAYS THAT SHE WAS PRETTY SURE WE HAD SEEN THEIR FLAG BUT I WISH WE HAD PUT A SIGN UP, SOMETHING, TO GIVE HER COMFORT. WE HAD ONE UP BY THE NEXT DAY THOUGH. IT WAS AN OLD PIECE OF SIDING AND ROSE BROUGHT ME THIS BIG CHUNK OF CHALK TO USE TO WRITE ON IT. WE LET THEM KNOW THAT THINGS WERE GOING OK. I COULDN’T TELL THEM I WAS SCARED SPITLESS OR JUST HOW HOPELESS I HAD FELT UPON WAKING TO REALIZE JUST HOW BIG THE HORDE WAS. NO MATTER WHERE WE LOOKED WITH OUR BINOCULARS THERE WAS ZOMBIES FOR AS FAR AS WE COULD SEE. THEY WERE MOVING THROUGH BUT THERE SEEMED TO BE NO END TO THEM, LIKE SOME MASSIVE FLOOD THAT JUST WASN’T RECEEDING. WE’VE SINCE LEARNED THAT THE ZOMBIES WERE MOVING FORWARD BUT ALSO IN A CIRCULAR FASHION, JUST LIKE A HURRICANE, AND WE MUST HAVE BEEN CLOSE TO THE CENTER OF THE HORDE WHICH DISGUISED THE MOTION.

SISSY AND THE BOYS WERE FURTHER AWAY THAN MCELROY AND J. PAUL. THEY ALSO SEEMED, AT THE TIME, TO BE IN A MORE SECURE POSITION THAN THE MEN WERE; J. PAUL AND MCELORY WERE EXPOSED TO THE ELEMENTS AND ONLY HAD THOSE LITTLE SILVER EMERGENCY BLANKETS TO COVER UP WITH. THEY COULDN'T GO IN THE HOUSE BECAUSE IT WAS INFESTED WITH THE ZOMBIES THAT HAD CHASED THEM ONTO THE ROOF ORIGINALLY. THE DECISION WAS MADE TO TRY AND PUT ALL OUR EFFORTS INTO RESCUING THE MEN FIRST. EVEN I THOUGHT SISSY AND THE BOYS WOULD BE OK.

WE RAN THROUGH SEVERAL OPTIONS THAT DAY BUT FINALLY SETTLED ON SECURING A LINE BETWEEN THE TOP OF THE WALL TO THE TOP OF THE HOUSE IN FRONT OF THE GUYS. THEN ONCE WE GOT OVER THERE WE WOULD SECURE A LINE FROM THAT HOUSE, A SINGLE STORY, TO THE HOUSE THAT MCELROY AND J. PAUL WERE ON WHICH WAS A TWO STORY. THEY’D BE ABLE TO USE THE ROPE “DOWNHILL” FROM THE TWO-STORY THEY WERE ON BUT WOULD HAVE TO CLIMB THE ROPE “UPHILL” FROM THE SINGLE STORY TO THE WALL.

IT TOOK US A WHOLE DAY TO SECURE THE ROPE TO THE FIRST HOUSE AND THEN THE DAMN RAIN RUINED OUR TIMELINE. I THINK EVERYONE IN SANCTUARY WAS ON THE RAGGED EDGE BY THEN. ALL WE COULD FOCUS ON WAS GETTING OUR PEOPLE BACK. I WAS SO INVESTED IN BELIEVING THAT IF WE COULD GET MCELROY AND J. PAUL IN THEN WE’D BE ABLE TO GET TO SISSY AND THE BOYS THAT EVERY TIME WE HAD A SETBACK IN THE PLANS TO GET TO THE GUYS IN IT WAS A SETBACK IN MY MIND OF GETTING TO SISSY AND THE BOYS.

CEASE WAS THE ONE THAT VOLUNTEERED TO GO ACROSS THE ROPE FIRST AND MAKE IT SECURE. I THOUGHT MELODY WAS GOING TO PASS OUT SHE WAS SO PALE. ROSE WAS RIGHT THERE With HER. MATLOCK AND DIX HAD WANTED TO GO BUT THEY ARE BOTH BIG MEN. DAVID HAD ALSO VOLUNTEERED BUT MATLOCK AND DIX SAID NO TO THAT. I OVERHEARD JAMES AND DAVID SAYING AFTERWARDS THAT DIX HAD TOLD THEM THAT I WAS IN NO STATE TO LOSE ANYONE ELSE. CEASE WAS NEARLY AS LIGHTWEIGHT AS DAVID PLUS HE HAD SOME EXPERIENCE; HIS LAST TRAINING ASSIGNMENT BEFORE NRS HAD BEEN ON A ROPES COURSE FOR SEARCH AND RESCUE MISSIONS.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 144 - 2

CEASE GOT OVER TO THE SINGLE STORY’S ROOF BUT NOT WITHOUT NEARLY GIVING US ALL A HEART ATTACK WHEN HIS SAFETY LINE GOT TANGLED UP AND HE RELEASED IT. HE SECURED THE ROPE FROM THE WALL TO THAT HOUSE WITH SPIKES AND USED EYE-RINGS SCREWED INTO THE DECKING TO SET UP FOR THE NEXT ROPE. WITH THE MEN ON THE ROOF SETTING UP THE ROPE FROM THE SINGLE STORY TO THE TWO STORY HOUSE WAS EASIER; NOT EASY, BUT EASIER. CEASE HAS A HELL OF A THROWING ARM AND IT ONLY TOOK TWO TRYS TO GET THE ROPE FIRMLY INTO J. PAUL’S HANDS. THEY TIED THE ROPE OFF TO THE LARGE CHIMNEY AND J. PAUL AND MCELROY BASICALLY JUST SLID DOWN IT.

J. PAUL’S SLIDE WAS SMOOTH AND HE LANDED GOOD. MCELROY ON THE OTHER HAND COULDN’T CATCH HIMSELF IN TIME AND HIT THE ROOF HARD WITH HIS BAD KNEE. WE COULD HEAR HIM YELL EVEN OVER THE MILLING ABOUT OF THE ZOMBIES. MCELROY SENT CEASE AND J. PAUL BACK TO SANCTUARY. HE WAS IN TOO MUCH PAIN TO TRY FOR THE WALL THAT NIGHT AND DIDN’TWANT THE YOUNGER MEN STAYING JUST TO BABYSIT HIM. I WAS IN TOO MUCH PAIN TO DO ANYTHING EXCEPT DO MY JOB LIKE AN AUTOMATON AND TO THINK ABOUT SISSY AND THE BOYS.

ROSE GOT IN MY FACE A LITTLE BIT AND MADE ME EAT AND SIT AND CUDDLE WITH THE LITTLE GIRLS. THAT’S WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT PATRICIA HAD BEEN STAYING AT OUR HOUSE AND LOOKING AFTER THE KIDS. WHEN I TRIED TO SAY SOMETHING - GOD KNOWS WHAT - SHE SAID TO LET IT GO. SHE SAID THAT SISSY AND I HAD LOOKED AFTER SAMUEL MORE THAN SHE HAD THERE FOR A WHILE AND SHE WAS GRATEFUL FOR THE CHANCE TO DO SOMETHING USEFUL TO KEEP HER MIND OFF OF THINGS. I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE SAID MORE TO HER BUT I COULDN’T. I KNOW I NEED TO. MAYBE TOMORROW.

THE NEXT DAY WAS DAMN COLD; THE COLDEST DAY WE’VE EXPERIENCED THUS FAR. IN THE BACK OF MY MIND THE WHOLE TIME WAS THAT THIS WAS THE FOURTH DAY THEY HAD BEEN TRAPPED IN THE ATTIC. I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THEIR WATER SITUATION WAS BUT I PRAYED THEY WERE ABLE TO GET SOME OF THE RAINWATER. I KNEW FOOD HAD TO BE A PROBLEM BY THAT POINT TOO. I JUST WANTED THEM TO STAY ALIVE. I WAS SURE WE WERE GOING TO GO AFTER THEM THAT DAY JUST AS SOON AS WE GOT WALESKI IN.

THAT WAS A FEAT; NO IT WAS A FREAKING MIRACLE. THERE WAS NO WAY THAT MCELROY WAS GOING TO BE ABLE TO CROSS THE ROPE BY HIMSELF. IT WASN’T JUST HIS KNEE THAT WAS MESSED UP, HIS HAND WAS CUT UP AND HIS SHOULDER WAS BRUISED TOO. WE RIGGED UP A CHAIR ON A PULLEY SYSTEM AND WERE ABLE TO GET HIM IN ABOUT TWO IN THE AFTERNOON. RIGHT WHEN WE HAD HIM, THE ROPE PULLED LOOSE FROM THE ROOF AND THE CHAIR PLUMMETED INTO THE ZOMBIE HORDE BELOW NEARLY TAKING HIM WITH IT. HE WAS SUFFERING FROM EXPOSURE EVEN MORE THAN THE KNEE INJURY AND RHONDA IS LOOKING AFTER HIM IN ONE OF THE OTHER ROOMS.

I KEPT TRYING TO SEE HOW WE COULD GET TO SISSY. I WANTED A MIRACLE FOR SISSY AND THE BOYS. NOTHING HAD REALLY CHANGED THOUGH. WE HAD TAKEN OUT A LOT OF THE RAGERS AND JAMES GOT DAMN GOOD AT CRIPPLING THE RUNNERS WHEN HE COULD GET A CLEAR SHOT AT THEM. THAT STILL LEFT THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF THE FREAKS BETWEEN ME AND MY WIFE AND BOYS.

WHEN IT STARTED GETTING LATE IN THE AFTERNOON AND WE STILL HADN’T MADE A MOVE TO REACH THEM I GUESS I STARTED LOSING IT. I DON’T REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT I WAS SAYING. IT’S PRETTY HAZY. I WASN’T IN A PANIC; ALL I CAN REMEMBER IS BEING RAGING PISSED OFF FURIOUS. DIX GOT IN MY FACE AND I DECKED HIM. I DON’T THINK HE THOUGHT I HAD IT IN ME BUT NO ONE AND I MEAN NO ONE GETS BETWEEN ME AND MINE, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHO OR WHAT THEY ARE. I THINK PEOPLE FORGET THAT JUST BECAUSE I WORKED IN AN OFFICE FOR A NUMBER OF YEARS DIDN’T MEAN THAT I SAT ON MY ASS THE WHOLE TIME. AND THE LAST COUPLE OF YEARS DOING ALL THE LABOR MYSELF AT THE RENTAL PROPERTIES MADE ME STRONGER THAN I LOOK TOO. NONE OF THEM HAD EVER SEEN ME REALLY LOSE MY TEMPER EITHER. IT’S A PROBLEM I’VE WORKED YEARS ON CONTROLLING BUT RIGHT THEN GOD HELP ME I COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE AND NOT GIVEN A DAMN.

JUST THAT SECOND, BEFORE I HAD A REAL CHANCE TO BLOW UP WE ALL HEARD THAT DAMN CONFEDERATE BUGLE HORN THAT ANGUS INSTALLED ON JUICER. THINK OF A VIKING SIZED YANKEE CRAZY MAN DRIVING AROUND IN A GARBAGE TRUCK THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE DUKES OF HAZARD WITH AN EQUALLY CRAZY AUSSIE RIDING SHOTGUN. IT HAS TO BE UNPRECEDENTED IN THE ANNALS OF HISTORY. WE’D LOST RADIO CONTACT WITH THEM SHORTLY AFTER WARNING THEM ABOUT THE ZOMBIES. HE AND JIM HAVE A HELL OF A STORY ALL THEIR OWN TO TELL.

NOW THAT I’VE SEEN THE SHAPE THEY ARE IN I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY DID IT. THEY HAD BEEN DRIVING IN AND OUT OF ZOMBIES FOR OVER 24 HOURS BY THE TIME THEY MADE IT TO THE GATES OF SANCTUARY. THEIR RADIO WAS STILL DOWN - GUNFIGHTS AND ZOMBIES ARE DAMN HARD ON RADIOS - BUT WE DIDN’T NEED TO HEAR THEM. WE COULD SEE THE DEADLY LIGHT OF PURPOSE IN THEIR EYES FROM THE WALL. THEY DROVE ALL THROUGH THAT NIGHT AND INTO THE NEXT DAY USING JUICER TO SQUEEZE EVERY LAST DROP. IT DIDN’T TAKE ANY TIME FOR THEM TO FILL UP THE GARBAGE BIN. THEY’D DRIVE OFF A WAYS DOWN US41 AND DUMP THE LOAD OF BODY PARTS AND THEN THEY’D GET BACK TO IT. WHEN THEY RAN LOW ON FUEL THEY PULLED AS CLOSE TO THE FRONT GATE AS THEY DARED AND WE LOWERED FUEL CANS DOWN TO THEM. APPARENTLY THE HORDE’S MAXIMUM WIDTH WAS ABOUT FIVE MILES; IT ONLY LOOKED LIKE THEY WENT ON FOREVER. THEY DROVE OUT OF THE HORDE, RE-FUELED, AND THEN CONTINUED THROUGH THE NIGHT.

AT FIRST LIGHT THE NEXT MORNING IT DID LOOK LIKE THE POPULATION IMMEDIATELY SURROUNDING SANCTUARY HAD THINNED OUT. JUICER NEEDED ANOTHER REFILL AND THIS TIME FUEL CANS WASN’T THE ONLY THING THAT WENT OVER THE WALL.

I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. I WENT OVER WITH THE CANS AND RODE ON TOP OF THE TRUCK CAB UNTIL WE REACHED A REFUELING POINT. MAN THEY WERE MESSED UP. THE DOGS WEREN’T IN THE BEST OF CONDITION EITHER. SEEMS TARPON SPRINGS … WELL … I’LL TELL THAT LATER. DIX HAD STUCK A RADIO IN MY HAND RIGHT BEFORE I WAS GOING OVER AND THAT’S HOW WE KEPT IN CONTACT WITH SANCTUARY FROM THERE ON OUT.

I EXPLAINED WHAT HAD HAPPENED AND ANGUS AND JIM WERE BOTH ON BOARD AND THINKING FAST ON HOW WE COULD GET TO SISSY AND THE BOYS. ANGUS DROVE AROUND TO THE HOUSE WHERE THEY WERE AT. WE CIRCLED THE BLOCK UNTIL WE CAME UP WITH A PLAN AND CLEARED OUT SOME MORE ZOMBIES. IT WAS OBVIOUS WE COULDN’T JUST HOP OUT AND RUN INTO THE HOUSE. THERE WERE ZOMBIES COMING IN AND OUT OF IT ALMOST CONSTANTLY. THERE WAS NO ONE AT THE DORMER WINDOW AND WE WERE WORRIED THAT USING THE HORN WOULD DRAW MORE UNWANTED ATTENTION FROM THE ZOMBIES.

I COULDN’T UNDERSTAND AT THE TIME HOW THEY COULDN’T HEAR THE SOUND OF JUICER AS IT PASSED. I WAS FEELING THE PANIC I HAD FELT WHEN IT TOOK A SPOTLIGHT TO GET THEIR ATTENTION TO GET THEM TO WIGGLE THE FLAG.

FINALLY WE DECIDED TO BACK UP TO THE HOUSE AND I WOULD CLIMB UP TO THE DORMER. ANGUS WAS DRIVING AND TOO BUSTED UP TO CLIMB BUT JIM DIDN’T WANT ME TO GO FIRST … IN CASE SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED … BUT I WAS ADAMANT.

ONCE I GOT UP THERE I COULDN’T SEE MUCH INTO THE GLOOM. I MUST HAVE BEEN BANGING THIRTY SECONDS BEFORE THE BOYS REALIZED I WASN’T A ZOMBIE OR “GHOSTIE” AND STARTED SCREAMING FOR ME. WHEN I ASKED THEM WHERE MOMMY WAS ALL THEY COULD DO WAS CRY AND POINT. I GOT THEM BACK FROM THE WINDOW AND TRIED TO BREAK IT ONLY TO DISCOVER THE ****ING THING WAS COVERED IN THAT HURRICANE FILM. IT TOOK ME THIRTY MINUTES TO RIP THE FRAME AND SILL OFF ENOUGH TO JUST PULL THE WHOLE DAMN WINDOW OUT AND THROW IT TO THE GROUND. THE SMELL THAT CAME OUT OF THE ATTIC WAS ENOUGH TO MAKE MY EYES WATER. I COULDN’T BELIEVE THEY HAD BEEN SURVIVING IN THESE CONDITIONS.

THE BOYS WERE ALL OVER ME AND TALKING AT ONCE BEFORE THE WINDOW EVEN LANDED ON THE GROUND; JABBERING MORE THAN TALKING. WHEN I SAW SISSY I JUST ABOUT DIED. I MADE THE BOYS STAY PUT AND MOVED VERY SLOWLY OVER TO HER SOFTLY CALLING HER NAME. WHEN SHE DIDN’T RESPOND, TIME NEARLY STOPPED FOR ME UNTIL I NOTICED SHE WAS STILL BREATHING. IT WASN’T GOOD. SHE WAS ALREADY PALE BUT THE COLD WIND THAT WAS NOW WHIPPING THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW FRAME WAS TURNING HER BLUE. I WRAPPED HER IN MY JACKET AND THEN WENT BACK AND CALLED DOWN TO JIM THAT I WAS GOING TO NEED SOME HELP. MOVING SLOWER THAN HE WANTED TO, JIM CLIMBED UP AND INTO THE WINDOW, GIVING ME A CHANCE TO READ SISSY’S LAST ENTRY. I’LL NEVER GET OVER THAT MOMENT NO MATTER HOW MANY MORE YEARS SISSY AND I HAVE TOGETHER.

WE GOT THE BOYS DOWN INTO THE CAB AND THEN IT TOOK BOTH JIM AND I TO GET SISSY DOWN WITHOUT DROPPING HER. ANGUS CALLED AHEAD TO SANCTUARY THAT WE WOULD BE COMING IN AND TO GET THE GATES CLEARED.

EVERYTHING WAS A BLUR. THE CAB WAS CROWDED WITH FOUR ADULTS, TWO KIDS AND TWO DOGS BUT IT WAS WARM BUT THAT’S WHAT THEY NEEDED. WE HAD TO CLEAR A FEW MORE PASSES OF ZOMBIES AND THEN WE WAITED FOR JAMES AND THE OTHER MEN TO PREPARE TO TAKE OUT ANY ZOMBIES THAT TRIED TO FOLLOW US IN. NO ZOMBIES BREACHED THE WALL BUT DAVID, CLARK, AND J.PAUL SHOT A FEW THAT TRIED TO TAG ALONG ON JUICER AFTER WE MADE IT IN AND THE GATES WERE CLOSED. WE ALSO CAUGHT A SHAMBLER ON THE UNDERCARRIAGE THAT HAD TO BE SANITIZED.

RACHEL AND WALESKI WERE RIGHT THERE AS SOON AS I OPENED THE CAB DOOR. RACHEL TOOK THE BOYS AND WALESKI, WHO HAS TREATED SISSY BEFORE FOR EXHAUSTION DIRECTED ME TO TAKE HER INTO ONE OF THE EXAM ROOMS IN THE HOSPITAL WHEN I REFUSED TO LET HER GO. THE BOYS NEARLY HAD HYSTERICS WHEN THEY WERE BEING SEPARATED FROM SISSY BUT ROSE TOOK THEM IN HAND AND SAID, “MOMMY NEEDS SOME PRIVACY. LET’S GET YOU CLEANED UP SO THAT YOU CAN LOOK AND SMELL ALL NICE FOR HER WHEN SHE WAKES UP.” I DON’T KNOW IF THAT WORKED OR IF THEY WERE JUST TOO EXHAUSTED TO DO ANY MORE FIGHTING; I WAS TOO FOCUSED ON SISSY.

THE EXAM SEEMED TO TAKE HOURS. SHE’S DEHYDRATED, SUFFERING FROM EXPOSURE, HAS AN INFECTED HEAD WOUND, IS BADLY BRUISED IN SEVERAL PLACES, MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE A CRACKED RIB OR TWO, PROBABLY HAS SOME SOFT TISSUE INJURIES, AND HER LUNGS ARE CONJESTED. HER FEVER FINALLY SUBSIDED AFTER WE GOT HER REHYDRATED. AFTER WE GOT THE TIMELINE OF EVENTS OUT OF HER JOURNAL WALESKI SAID IT WAS PROBABLY THE FALL THROUGH THE CEILING THAT TIPPED THE BALANCE OUT OF HER FAVOR. SHE MAY HAVE A MINOR CONCUSSION AS WELL THAT MADE HER FEEL NAUSEOUS AND SHE DIDN’T EAT ENOUGH. GIVING HER PORTION OF THE FOOD TO THE BOYS WAS NOBLE, BUT DIDN’T HELP HER CONDITION.

ROSE AND MELODY SPENT OVER AN HOUR WASHING SISSY’S HAIR AND CLEANING OUT THE PUNCTURE WOUND. IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE IT DID ANYTHING TO THE SKULL BUT IT HAD SOME PUSS AND DEBRIS IN IT. THEY’VE CLEANED IT OUT, CUT AWAY SOME OF THE DEAD SKIN, AND STITCHED HER UP. SHE HAS A SMALL BALD SPOT WHERE THEY HAD TO SHAVE HER HEAD. ITS NOT BIG, MAYB 50 CENT PIECE SIZE BUT SHE’S GOING TO HATE IT. I KNOW SISSY, SHE’LL MAKE MORE FUSS OVER THE BALD SPOT THAN SHE WILL ABOUT BEING STUCK IN THE ATTIC ONCE SHE HAS TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT.

THE BOYS ARE ALREADY ON THE MEND AND CALMING DOWN; THOUGH SUDDEN MOVEMENTS, LOUD NOISES, AND TRYING TO SEPARATE THEM FROM SISSY SEND THEM INTO A TEMPORARY PANIC. THOSE EPISODES ARE FEWER AND FARTHER APART AS THE DAY HAS PROGRESSED.

THE ZOMBIES STILL SURROUND SANCTUARY BUT THEY ALSO CONTINUE TO MOVE EAST. JIM EXPLAINED, WHILE ANGUS WAS PITCHING A FIT OVER HAVING RACHEL TRY AND EXAM AND PATCH HIM UP, THAT THE ZOMBIES WERE THE DIVERSION THEY NEEDED TO ESCAPE FROM THEIR OWN ENCOUNTER WITH TROUBLE. THAT MEANS THAT THIS HORDE STRETCHES AT LEAST 20 MILES EAST OF US.

THE HORDE HAS DEFINITELY THINNED OUT BUT WE’LL BE DAYS, POSSIBLY WEEKS, CLEARING OUT THE REMNANTS. WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO GO HOUSE-BY-HOUSE AGAIN AND CHECK ALL THE SHEDS AND GULLYS FOR ANY THAT ARE STUCK. WE HAVE A WHILE BEFORE WE CAN DO THAT. THERE ARE STILL TOO MANY OUT THERE FOR US TO WASTE AMMO TRYING TO SANITIZE THEM ALL.

GOD PLEASE HELP. THANK YOU FOR GIVING MY FAMILY BACK BUT NOW HELP ME TO HELP SISSY GET BETTER. SHE JUST HAS TO WAKE UP SOON. WALESKI IS GIVING HER WHAT ANTIBIOTICS WE HAVE BUT SHE NEEDS TO BE ABLE TO SIT UP AND MOVE A LITTLE TO LOOSEN THE CRAP IN HER CHEST TO KEEP IT FROM TURNING INTO PNEUMONIA. TAKE FROM ME WHATEVER IT COSTS, JUST PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY WIFE OR CHILDREN FROM ME.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 146 – Sunday (Dec 24)

Merry Christmas Eve from the land of the living. 'Scuse the handwriting, I've been informed that if I'm outside I'm in gloves. Grrr. I hate being told what to do. I would have worn them anyway but telling me I have to makes me want to take them off. I feel contrary and hard headed today.

For you future readers, whoever you might be, you’ve likely read what has happened the last week. We are OK. It was scary, hard, traumatizing, and just about every other adjective that you can come up with but I refuse to let it control me. We all lived. That was the plan and we succeeded. Johnnie and Bubby won’t go near the gates. They’ll walk around in our yard, or walk around in Sanctuary as long as they have Scott’s or Rose’s hands to hold but mostly all they really want to do is play at the foot of where ever I am at. It’s definitely going to take some time for the boys to find their feet and their independence again. Maybe a long time, but I hope not.

Right now Scott has me tucked up in a lounge chair just outside our carport. The sun feels so good. I feel like I’ve been locked up inside a prison for too long. I’ve got strict orders that I’m not to put a toe on the ground and the boys get to tell on me if I “misbehave.” Its driving me slightly nuts to look at all the work that needs to be done and not be able to do anything about it but only in a distant, I’ll-think-about-it-more-after-a-nap kind of way.

I’m embarrassed by my last entry but I won’t tear it out. That’s how it really was. I don’t want to forget or gloss over it. Scott was pretty emotional too and it will be a long time, if ever, that he feels comfortable thinking about anyone but me reading his entry. But my journal helps me to remember. One of these days, with God’s grace many years from now, one or the other of us really will be alone. That will be when we can go back and read this journal and remember the good times and bad and how full a life we had together. Memories are important. Often it’s all we have left.

As for how Scott is dealing with his feelings, I’m pretty much guaranteed to be under his thumb for a while. I can live with it if that is what makes him feel comfortable enough to get over his own trauma. Being the “man of the house” has a lot of perks, but it also takes a heavy toll on a man that takes the position seriously. The way he is right now reminds me of when I had that miscarriage right before I got pregnant with Sarah. I was so sick and we didn’t know if we would be able to have any more kids. Then I got pregnant again and right afterwards his mom was diagnosed with cancer. For a protective male I can’t imagine anything worse than feeling powerless and no way to stop the bad stuff from happening. If he needs to exert a little more control than normal that’s OK. I know he’s only doing it because he got such a bad scare and I hope eventually he’ll ease up on his own. If he doesn’t … well, I’m strong-willed enough to tell him when enough is enough and we’ll work it out from there. We always have.

He’ll be OK, but it’s going to take some time. Matlock and Dixon look like they’ve been through the ringer too. The three men are dancing around each other a little bit. Patricia told me what happened. I can’t believe that Scott actually decked Dix. Well, I mean I can believe he could do it, I just have a hard time visualizing it actually coming to that. Only Dix would be so dense as to get in Scott’s face when he was in the middle of a meltdown. Most people would have given him some space.

On the other hand I guess none of them has really seen Scott when he is really, truly in high dudgeon. It normally happens a couple of times a year when he gets really stressed out from work or if there was problems with the business. I guess I hadn’t thought much about it until now. I guess he was kinda due. I’ve had a few meltdowns of my own over the last couple of months. I guess the real surprise is that he didn’t blow up before. Sounds like I'm guessing more than knowing way too much these days.

Waleski gave me a bit of a lecture and a good sized warning. He’s an OK guy if you can get past the grumpy exterior but I hate lectures, they always make me feel about two years old. I’m off the heavy-duty chore roster for a month! I asked him who he thought was going to do all our laundry and he just shrugged. I swear, typical male of the species. I’m off the roster for going outside of the Wall for at least two weeks and counting as well depending on when the zombies depart. No lifting anything heavier than Kitty for two weeks due to a possible cracked rib or two. If it’s below 70 degrees and he catches me without at least a windbreaker on he threatened he'd have Scott put me on house arrest. I have to drink a serving of some form of juice – orange, apple, whatever – at every meal. He ranted on and on but bottom line is that I’m sure I'm going to be chewing horseshoes and spitting nails before I’m “allowed” to do the work I know I’m going to need to do.

Waleski says that with all the physical stress my body has been under lately (and yes that turkey did mention my age which just made me want to kick him that much more) I'm a sitting duck if any kind of virus goes around. I'd like to know who I'm supposed to catch it from? It’s not like I'm meeting anyone from other survivor groups. And I sure as heck don't plan on getting within sneezing or kissing distance of any of our zombified visitors; always assuming they are carrying anything other than NRS. OK, so my chest is a little congested. I'll admit that I need to watch that, but at a certain point there is a law of diminishing returns; the more I'm protected, the less good it does me.

I appreciate their concern but I’m not going to sit around on my butt any more than necessary. I’ve got way too much to do. The gardens are just sitting there. People are harvesting stuff, thank goodness, but no new beds are being prepared for planting. I’ve got all the drawings done and all I need to do is lay them out and then plant. I want the golf cart back but its stuck in the garage of the house we holed up in.

I need to get some manure tea made and fertilize what is still in the ground. The fallen fruit in the orchard needs to be picked up and tossed into the compost. The compost piles themselves need to be turned and aerated. I need to get some more fruit picked and canned before it too falls off the trees; who knows what the fruit trees outside of Sanctuary are going to look like after this horde finally finishes passing through. No wonder all those animals looked like they were starving to death. The zombies walk on and beat up everything with no regard to the damage they are causing. All the yards right outside our Wall are churned up, sandy messes. They tear bushes and small trees walking through them rather than around them. We've got glass and wood shards all over that are going to have to be dealt with as well where doors and windows, siding and other house materials have been destroyed.

On a good note I used my time this morning to draw plans for a couple of herb gardens. I know it might save some work to just have one huge herb garden but I’m trying not to put all our eggs in one basket. What happens if a garden area fails for some reason? If one fails and there is no back-up we could be in serious trouble. With multiple gardens we have a bit of insurance that if one fails there will still be others. The multiple garden approach also makes it easier to rotate crops to keep from using up all of the nutrients in the sandy soil we have.

There is one thing I just can’t seem to get over though. I’m not allowed to help do any of the cooking tonight or tomorrow. I’ve been cooking Christmas Eve and Christmas Day meals for my family for nearly a quarter of a century. Twenty-five years! Dix and Matlock were even thinking about cancelling Christmas all together. I could have hit both of them myself. I wound up crying and I hate doing that, especially in public. No one died. We are all together. Even Angus and Jim are back and recovering though I’m not sure that we shouldn’t sedate them or something. They are as wound up as Johnnie and Bubby ever were. Rachel is going to have a fit if they pull out any more of their stitches doing crazy stuff like working on their still. You should have heard her laying into them this morning, “If I have to sew you two up one more time I swear I will shoot you both in the ass with a butt load of elephant tranquilizer!!”

Thankfully, probably because most of us women threatened a revolt if we weren’t allowed to go through with our holiday plans, the men backed off and changed their minds. By God there should be some things that are sacred from the effects of the zombies. The kids need some hope for the future. We need some hope. I've spent most of the afternoon watching everyone decorate a Sanctuary Tree ... at least that's what the kids are calling it.

I'm sure some of us are thinking about family and friends that are no longer with us but if those people truly loved us they would want us to survive and get on with the act of living. Traditions, old and new, are part of that. Besides, the zombies are still too numerous outside so it’s not like we are going anywhere. I refuse to let NRS win. I've may have to be reconciled to losing some battles here and there, but I refuse to give up the war.

Speaking of not going anywhere, I guess I’m more tired than I thought. I’m ready to go back inside and lay down for a bit. I don’t want Scott re-thinking me going to our Sanctuary shindig tonight. I just about ran out of breath trying to talk him into it in the first place.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 147 – Monday (Dec 25)- Merry Christmas!!

And I do mean Merry!!!! Oh, I’m exhausted but this has been one of the best days since this whole NRS pandemic started.

I might as well say up front that a lot of us would have to go off for a moment or two and deal with grief issues … missing people we loved, wondering where people were, wondering how people were if they were still alive … but we were also celebrating life.

The kids were at first disappointed that there wasn’t anything under the Christmas tree in the house when they woke up. But after they found out that everyone’s presents were under the community Christmas tree over at the Dining Hall they were even more excited. Everyone in Sanctuary also had their own stocking with a few trinkets and small gifts in them. The children's stockings ran towards toys, the adults got things that had something to do with a hobby or interest. Most of the grown men got a flask full of something a little stronger than the drinks we kept the punchbowl filled with.

The women and I have been working since our Thanksgiving Celebration to provide fun treats for everyone. We made cookies and fruit cakes and stored them in decorative tins we have been collecting. At first everyone looked cross-eyed and made jokes about the fruit cakes … but then they tasted them. I’m glad we’ve held a few back. Homemade fruitcake is a totally different animal from the junk you used to buy in the store. Same with the cookies. The peanut butter cookies and the chocolate chip cookies nearly didn’t last the day out.

Breakfast was sweet buns and fruit. That held everyone until lunchtime when we had BBQ mutton. One of the goats was just too ornery and was getting dangerous so Mr. Morris decided to cull it from the herd. That is not a trait we want to encourage in future generations, not even the adults could handle it anymore and letting the kids tend the vicious beast was out of the question. It had been years since I’d had BBQ Mutton fresh from the farm. Oh man, it was just like Granddaddy used to fix. After lunch everyone pretty much just grazed the rest of the day.

I had wanted to make the kids some candy last week but obviously life intervened. Since I didn’t get to cook I spent a couple of hours today showing the kids how to pull taffy and make their own peppermint candy. I had plenty of adults come by to do it as well. Those recipes really use up our granulated sugar supply. I’ll have to figure out substitutes before we do that sort of thing again. I’d love to have our own honey supply and I’m pretty sure I have recipes that use molasses and/or cane syrup for making candy as well. Now all we need to do is find a patch of sugarcane and some beehives.

Christmas presents were utilitarian for the most part. Scott and I gave each one of the girls from Rose down to Kitty (and Melody and Josephine as well) a “hope chest.” Scott built them using scrap furniture that we’ve gathered from around the neighborhood. Each chest is lined with cedar veneer and has a pretty hinged top that we carved and stained. With these chests the girls will be able to begin saving linens and other little things for when they have a home of their own. I started each girl off with a set of pillows that I had embroidered a lace edging onto and a lavender sachet made from dried lavender that I had grown myself last year. I know its old fashioned but Scott and I pretty much lived out of my hope chest the first year we were married.

For David and James I made vests, and I surprised Scott by making one for him as well, I sewed a modified hunting vest. It has lots of pockets for ammo and other gizmos that they might need. It also has a big pocket that they can put snacks or bait in. The little boys got their own vests but I expect them to be filled with rocks, small toys, and who knows what else until they get a little older.

Everyone in Sanctuary had a gift under the tree; no one was left out. There were also private gifts given between friends and lovers in privacy. Scott gave me a picture frame with a picture of all the kids together. I mean all the kids, not just ours but all the kids in Sanctuary. It was a copy of one that Brandon had made during the Thanksgiving Celebration. Each kid had signed their name or drawn a picture on a piece of paper and he put that behind the picture. It took me a bit to control the waterworks. I set it on our dresser.

There were games and activities for all age groups throughout the day. Angus and Jim have settled down a bit and everyone that hadn’t heard their whole story yet finally got to hear it while we were sitting around during a lull in the day. I’ve written it out the best I can. I didn’t always get the jokes and laughter, I suspect it’s because I’m missing a Y chromosome, but I think I’ve done a passable job of putting their story down on paper.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Angus' and Jim’s Story (part one)

Angus and Jim are both gruff and gregarious at the same time. They can also be very dangerous men. I guess these days all survivors can be dangerous but those two have an additional edge about them that sets them apart. A lot depends who they are dealing with.

Neither man has had a problem finding their place amongst the men of Sanctuary; they are liked and well regarded. They are unique position compared to the other men in Sanctuary. They came in singly as opposed to being either part of a biological family group or as part of a combat team. I use to wonder if they might feel like odd-man-out or lonely. They don’t appear to feel that way so I try not to worry. Surely both men understand that we’ve adopted them into our family.

Jim’s kinda funny. He has an almost painfully dry sense of humor and his Australian accent melts everyone's hearts. He’s certainly a soft touch for the women but in a way that doesn’t make any of the other men jealous. It may be a bit romantic of me but I think that’s mostly because he still holds out hope for his fiancé wherever she might be; that she is in with a group that will take care of her and keep her safe.

Angus is a pushover with the kids. The teens all look to him to get them into shenanigans that they won’t get in trouble too badly for. The little kids though, they really turn Angus to mush. Have you ever seen a Viking at a tea party? That’s Angus; huge wooden shelaleigh in one hand, tiny china tea cup in the other. The little kids can talk him into just about anything. I suspect there is a story there as well; but, we all have places that are private when it comes to our past. One of these days Angus may feel comfortable enough sharing that part but until that time I’m more than happy to just let Angus be Angus with all his funny quirks.

I’d heard bits and pieces of “the great battle” every since I woke up in the hospital. Who couldn’t help but hear of it with all the kids talking about how Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim fought off a crew of bloodthirsty pirates? Aaaaarrrrrrgggg! I wasn’t sure how exaggerated the tale was until Scott told me that the two men had actually been censoring quite a bit of it for the kids' sakes.

They left Sunday morning, the same day that the horde came through but they were hours away by the time the first zombie stumbled out of the bushes. Hindsight is 20/20 and we’ve begun to wonder about all the lane clearing we’ve done to make it easier on ourselves; its like a huge sign that says “settlement this way.” The clearing did allow the men to reach the little town of Elfers much earlier than planned. In fact they arrived early enough that they got there before the contingent from Tarpon Springs did.

Once the Tarpon Springs group did show up Angus and Jim became uneasy almost immediately. There were several too many vehicles on the Tarpon Springs side. And that group seemed angrily surprised that Angus and Jim had arrived at the rendezvous point ahead of them. There were also a couple of rough types riding in a couple of trucks that seemed out of place. None of the promised trade goods were in evident either.

In retrospect their early arrival probably saved their lives or they could very well have driven into an ambush. The other thing that probably saved their lives was that the Tarpon Springs crowd were more familiar with coastal areas where they could use the Gulf as one of their tools to contain the people they were trying to attack and steal from. The landlocked position they held, and the loss of the element of surprise, considerably deflated their original attack plan.

Another immediate point of irritation was that the man Jim had been negotiating with wasn’t there. The excuse was that he had injured himself the previous day and couldn’t make the trip. Then the scalawags proceeded to try and renegotiate the trade which truly irritated Jim. The talks were breaking down when the radio squawked to life in Juicer causing everyone to jump. Angus said he knew that there was trouble right off because Bekah would never have been allowed to make such a call if there had been an adult able to. He grabbed the mike and was just able to get Bekah to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

A young girl’s voice called out plaintively over the radio waves, “Uncle Angus, Uncle Jim … I mean Juicer One … come in pllleeeeasee!”

“We’re right here little girl. Calm down and tell Uncle Angus what’s wrong.”

“Uncle Angus there are zombies everywhere and Momma and the boys didn’t make it in and Daddy is crazy and things are really really really really bad. Dix said they are headed your way and fast. He said to tell you that it’s the biggest horde we’ve ever seen and to not be heroes and get some place safe!”

Angus used the calmest voice he could and asked, “OK, little bit. Did you say your Mom didn’t make it in? Was it the little boys she had with her?”

“Yes sir. And a couple of the grown up men aren’t inside either but I didn’t hear which ones. Uncle Angus, things are really bad.” You could hear the insipient tears in the catch of her voice.

“You sit tight little girl, Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim will be there as quick as we can.”

"But Uncle Angus, Dix said ... "

"Don't you worry. You let Uncle Angus worry about ol' Dix. You just know that we'll be there."

When Angus turned to Jim to relay the situation he saw one of the rough types pulling out a Mossberg 500. He made sure his Mauser was in plain sight and he made a point of looking at the one that had pulled the shotgun and could clearly see him take the safety off the Mauser.

Disgusted with the unnecessary show of force Angus said, “Jim, whatever they’re trading ain’t worth it. Let’s roll.”

Jim, who had gotten the feeling by that time he was being jerked around said, “Right mate.” To the men immediately in front of him he said, “Sorry gentlemen, we don’t have time for this. We’ll have to get together another day for Anzacs and tea. Right now we have some ankle biters that need us.”

As Jim backed away the people from Tarpon Springs made the first move. Thankfully Angus saw the guy in motion and shot him right as he was aiming at Jim. Jim still caught the burn off of the bullet as it went by but the pain only motivated him to move faster and to get into a position where he could retaliate in kind.

After that all hell broke loose. Using Juicer’s heavy metal frame as cover they tried to take as many of them out as they could as quickly as they could. I won’t include the cussing that Angus and Jim did at this point in their narrative. Suffice it to say that it was colorful, long and included several creative guesses as to the pirates’ ancestry and species.

Two men against fourteen; very bad odds. Strike that, the one Angus had got with a solid head shot left them with thirteen. Then they noticed that five of the thirteen pulled away from the other eight and hunkered down, weaponless, behind one of the buildings on eithe side of the highway. They decided not to waste ammo on weaponless men so long as those men left them alone.

That left them with eight heavily armed and ruthless men to combat. There was a temporary stand-off while the battle lines were being re-drawn and the pirate/raiders realized their numbers were slimmer and their opponents more able than they had anticipated. This was street fighting at its most dangerous.

The pirates split their forces and tried to catch Angus and Jim in a crossfire situation. Angus and Jim, realizing what was going on quickly moved away from Juicer and used a variety of other cover. From that point on they kept repositioning themselves so that the pirates could never catch them both with the same maneuver. They weren’t going to give them a “two birds with one stone” option.

The pirates were good, but not real flexible. They were sloppy and untrained and used to their opponents choking on fear. Their plan had always worked for them in the past and they had not seen the necessity for designing contingencies. This time the plan didn’t work and they couldn’t adjust quickly enough to regain the upper hand against Angus and Jim. The tide slowly shifted away from the men being on the defensive to being on the offensive. Being on the defensive was a completely alien situation for the pirates and that made them even less effective and they began to make stupid errors. They stopped operating as a group and it was every man for himself.

Mischief and Mayhem had not been silent partners in this battle. They had taken down two of the unarmed Tarpon Springs men that had tried to throw their lot in with the pirates. Those men paid for that choice with their lives. No man in his right mind would want to go up against a mastiff that is 100 pounds of pure muscle much less two of them. The dogs, young as they were, were well trained and nearly decapitated one of the men with a snap of their powerful jaws.

Angus took out two more, disabling one and killing the other, dropping the enemies’ numbers from eight to six. Then Jim took out another two in quick succession dropping their opponents’ numbers to four. Those four were smarter than their other brother pirates and quickly regrouped into a team. Jim and Angus had a tough time staying out of their kill zone when they broke into a box they had in one of the trucks and pulled out a container of an odd assortment of grenades.

Angus and Jim had just about everything but the kitchen sink thrown at them. Each type of grenade presented them with new problems. There were a couple of the riot dispersing grenades called “flash bangs” that were more annoying than anything else, but the flash still momentarily blinded the men if they were looking anywhere near where they went off. The incendiary grenades were filled with about 700 grams of thermate and burned so hot that it melted the road where it was set off. One rolled into a dilapidated quickie-mart and started a fairly large blaze that began to spread to the other storefronts in the strip center on that side of the road. Small fires quickly spread in several different directions, sometimes cutting off their best escape routes. The smoke grenades added to the smoke that the fires were generating, only this smoke was thicker and often colored with some type of dye. The worst grenadse they had to deal with were the concussion grenades. A lucky blind lob by one of the pirates landed one of the concussion grenades a little too close to Angus and he was blown through a wooden fence, embedding a large splinter of wood in his calf and momentarily knocking him out.

A grizzled pirate, trying to take advantage of Angus’ temporary paralysis and stunned hearing, ran over and took careful aim. But in his glee over seeing Angus down he had forgotten the dogs. He had also forgotten to keep track of Jim. Mayhem came out of the smoke and took the man’s throat out with a single jumping lunge. Jim stepped in and put a bullet in the head of the corpse to prevent it from rising. Four had become three.

Angus came to himself much quicker than he had any right to and a good thing too. Jim was searching the smoke for his next target, giving Angus time to gather himself, when he was attacked from behind by a man wielding a baseball bat that had sharp pieces of metal studded all over it. A glancing blow ripped through Jim’s jacket, hunting vest, and shirt shredding the skin underneath. Luckily however skin was all he had gotten. A solid blow could have easily torn muscle, broken his collar bone or severed an artery.

Mischief and Mayhem attempted to get close enough to help Jim but the pirate caught both dogs with blows from his club, injuring them. By this time Angus was back on his feet and in full pissed-off Viking mode. It only took the roar of one word, “Move!” and the dogs backed off. The loud exclamation caused the pirate to turn towards Angus just in time to have his face disintegrate in a spray of blood, bone, and tissue by a point blank shot from the Mauser.

Now three had become two; the odds were now even. Angus worried that the dogs would become crippled if they continued to fight so ordered them to stay put. Jim said it was obvious they were still ready and willing to kill for their master and after a brief whine begging not to be taken out of the fight they obeyed and sat close together against the building licking their wounds. But they continued to watch everything within their range.

Jim and Angus went back on the offensive and fanned out using the smoke as cover, hunting the two remaining pirates. Every few minutes a shot would ring out but none of them found their target. Suddenly Angus and Jim heard a commotion to the west of their location. The primary component of the sound was fists hitting flesh. They homeed in the on the sound and came upon the three previously unarmed men taking on one of the remaining pirates. One of the men grab a large piece of broken pavement and put an end to the pirate’s existence and used the large rock two more times to make sure that the pirate couldn’t rise again.

Everyone was breathing heavy, both from the fighting and from the smoke that still hung thick in the air. Into this came the unexpected sound of a truck squealing out and escaping west along SR54. A quick reconnoiter, and a mercy kill shot to prevent the one remaining mortally wounded pirate from rising, revealed no other immediate threats.

Immediate threats. They still had the fires that were spreading, the zombie horde coming in from the east, and they needed to deal with the three remaining Tarpon Springs men.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Angus and Jim’s story (part 2)

There wasn’t anything they could do about the fires for the moment. The blazes, large and small, seemed to be dying back due to lack of fuel. If the fire broke past the barrier of the concrete jungle however the wind would likely drive the flames in a southwesterly direction.

No zombies could be seen even when standing on top of Juicer’s cab using good field binoculars. That left dealing with the three Tarpon Springs men who stood hunched over like they were waiting for their turn at the guillotine. While Jim and Angus gathered up all the weapons and such that had been left behind they listend to the men from Tarpon Springs tell their side of the story.

Actually make that two men from Tarpon Springs and one man captured who belonged to a community that had been scavenging along the west coast of Pinellas County but that was based at the Ft. DeSoto State Park. Their group had blocked off the bridges into the park as a way to keep the zombies at bay. But, in order to maintain a viable community they needed to resupply from the mainland. South Pinellas was pretty much destroyed by rioting so they took their boats further north. During one of these runs they encountered the pirates, lost two boats and nearly everyone aboard each, but the bulk of their group managed to escape back to their fortified position. The pirates had yet to be able to take them which was a sore point for the pirates and the man, who said his name was Jude, was frequently beaten in retaliation.

The story of Tarpon Springs however was a little different. The two men explained that some refugees that had been taken in about a month and a half earlier turned out to be spies for the pirate crew. They insinuated themselves into the security and leadership positions within the community, slowly influencing key members of the population and in at least two cases getting them hooked on drugs. Then, only two days after our convoy left Tarpon Springs, a relatively bloodless coup took place. Since the immediate leadership within the community didn’t appear to change - and the fuel, food and booze kept flowing - there hadn’t been much outrage. However when some residents found that the “privateers” were nothing more than bandits that would be using their contacts with other survivor groups to further their goals of domination by intimidation and exacting services and resources in exchange for “protection” from other pirate groups, small acts of disobedience began to occur. Soon the previously bloodless conflict became very bloody when all those that disagreed with the pirates were rounded up, shot in the leg, and tossed into the Gulf for the sharks and other predators to clean up.

Certainly this horrifically brutal act served to subdue an already traumatized community. The three men wanted to take the word back to their groups before the pirates had a chance to regroup. They wanted to empower their fellow citizens to further action.

Angus and Jim rolled their eyes when they heard this. Jim said, “I don’t hold out much hope for them. Their description of how Tarpon Springs is being run means alone and weaponless they have little chance of doing what they want to do. But, we let them go and wished them luck. Hell of it was, under other circumstances I might have joined the fight but Sanctuary’s situation was our primary concern.”

Angus added, “I couldn’t get little Bekah’s voice out of my head. Hell of it was we hopped in Juicer and was down the road about a half mile before we I realized the radio was capput, the antenna musta got fried during the street battle. And one of the damn tires was warped, probably from a concussion grenade. Got lucky and was able to stop at a county maintenance yard right off of SR54 to fix the tire. But by the time we fixed it dark had nearly set in and a few zombies were already shambling through. We didn’t know how bad it was or we probably would have taken our chances and just kept going. As it was we decided to stop for the night and wait until first light to head out. We stayed the night in a mechanic’s garage.”

The first order of business when they got there, after securing the building itself, was to clean and bandage their various wounds. Even though it’s been over a week since their big battle Angus and Jim both still look pretty rough. It hasn’t helped that they’ve been less that accommodating of Rachel’s demands that they take it easy. In that respect they behave about as well as any two year old might.

They conceded that they wouldn’t be able to get any further that night and decided to rest and prepare for the next day's battle. The problem was that next morning at first light the men awoke to find their position surrounded by more zombies than they had ever thought possible. All Monday they waited, and not patiently from the sound of it, for some break in the horde. Their only outlet was being as creative as they could using the leftovers in the shed to create “weapons of mass destruction.”

The zombies never let up. Evening fell again and the two men began to realize that they were either going to have to wait it out where they were for however long it took or risk certain death to reach Sanctuary. Most sane, unattached men probably would have opted to wait at least one more day. That’s not saying that Angus and Jim aren’t sane, but their view of life after the apocalypse had changed. They were “other driven” and marched to the beat of a different drummer. They simply no longer thought as the average person would have, if they ever had in the first place.

They created pipe bombs, some incendiary and some fragmentary, using all the leftover flotsam the last service team left lying around. Another thing Angus did was sharpen the edge of the front end loader; this way if he couldn’t scoop the zombie up at least he could cut them down and partially immobilize them. In addition to the homemade weaponry they reinforced the cab of Juicer so that even if the windshield or side windows caved in, there would still be metal between the occupants and the zombies.

They ate the meal I had packed for them that night and said it was just the picker upper they needed. After that they and the dogs got a good night’s sleep; they knew they were going to need it. And they tried not to worry too much about what was happening in Sanctuary.

The dogs had them up before first light. Everyone took care of their business and grabbed a quick bite for breakfast, but nothing too heavy. They weren’t exactly going to be able to stop on the side of the road to deal with issues that come from too much bran and too much coffee. Both men also tended to their wounds one more time using nearly a half a tube of triple antibiotic cream each and all of the gauze that was in the first aid kit they found in the supervisor’s office.

Both men and both dogs piled into Juicer’s cab. Rather than opening the garage door Angus chose to drive straight through it and men and dogs were finally off and running towards Sanctuary.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Angus and Jim’s story (part 3)

Getting through the garage door actually proved to be much easier than navigating through the zombie horde. As soon as they cleared the building they were surrounded by a very thick crowd of zombies; so thick in fact the mass of bodies was so thick that Juicer nearly stalled out several times until the men figured out the best way to create their own path of destruction through the walking corpses.

While sharpening the front loader was an integral part of their ability to move through the throng of zombies it also created a rather disgusting problem. Usually Juicer catches the zombies and then dumps them into the compactor portion of the garbage truck; no fuss, no muss. Instead, the sharpened edge now literally cut a swath through the horde. They had to drive in low gear to avoid any more slipping and sliding than necessary, and this allowed them to slowly making their way east on SR54.

Angus and Jim are hardened but not heartless. You can sense that all of the carnage, despite the necessity of it, weighs on them and probably will for some time yet. They said they had to remind themselves that the bodies surrounding them were nothing more than biological shells; that the consciousnesses of the people that had once inhabited those bodies were long gone and never coming back. The fresher the corpse, the more it seemed to imitate life. The child zombies were especially difficult to ignore. They were pathetic looking but were even more dangerous because of the reaction they drew from the living.

Angus fought for every foot of progress they made. Every time the horde shifted he could feel Juicer shift and slide on the road. The trick was to keep their forward momentum, despite their reduced speed, constant and steady. This allowed the front loader to do its job most effectively and meant that they didn’t have to worry about losing traction against the blacktop. The gore mounted quickly and it was a challenge to keep the frontloader from becoming clogged. It was a waste of time to try and gather the gore into the compactor section. They just tilted the loader and allowed all of the … body parts and fluids … to slide to the ground and drove Juicer through it.

Even under the best conditions driving would have been tortuous for the two men. But with all the bumping and banging around they felt in the cab, their wounds began to bleed or seep all over again draining them even further. Even the dogs would let out the occasional pitiful whine.

Angus growled, “After a couple of hours of that I had had enough. I told Jim to crack the window enough to use some of the goodies we had gathered.”

“Yeah. I had a bit of trouble at first though. I was throwing with my weak arm. The one that I normally throw with was just too damn sore to use,” Jim added.

Their new strategy worked, for a while. They added another 10 mph to their speed as zombies in the immediate area would lose the focus on Juicer and go after the louder explosion. Then the first Rager refused to be diverted. The Rager launched itself out of the horde and straight at Jim’s side of the cab with a solid thwack.

It hit the door so hard that the inside panel bowed inward. While Angus drove and tried to hold the dogs back – they kept banging into Jim’s bad arm – Jim lit up their makeshift blow torch they made cobbled together from a small can of butane. When the zombie’s head came up to the window area, Jim directed the flame into the holes of the fencing they had tacked to the frame of the truck and set the inside of the corpse’s skull on fire.

“As if the smell of decomp and dog crap wasn’t strong enough, now we had to deal with over cooked brains. Talk about bad!” Jim complained after hawking up phlegm at the mere memory of the odor.

That Rager wasn't the last. They also had to deal with the occasional Runner and some of the freakier zombies like the climbers and the mutants.

It’s about 20 miles between Elfers and the intersection of SR54 and US41. After making it to the intersection both men were forced to concede that for the moment they had taken all they could. It was late in the afternoon and they needed to bed down for the night and recoop for the big push to Sanctuary. They found the outside edge of the horde by travelling less than a mile north on US41 and were pulling behind the Pasco County Traffic Building when they were unceremoniously hailed from a man on the ceiling warning them of a small band of shamblers on the bottom floor. The man said the next building over had been cleared and to come on for a pot of coffee if they were interested.

It was a strange invitation except the man wasn’t a total stranger. Greg had recognized them as belonging to Sanctuary and reintroduced himself in case they didn’t know him. He was the leader of the now defunct New Geraci group and was now the current leader of what they called the Brooksville enclave, a small town further north on US 41. Some of them had come south to check on the remnants of the Hale Hollow group that they originated from.

“Wasn’t nobody home. They’re either all dead or moved on. We scavenged some goods from our old houses and then we was going to go straight back home but ran into that horde y’all come out of. By the way y’all are crazy as hell, you know that? Anywho, the bulk of ‘em moved south a bit earlier today and we was making plans to get back home first thing in the morning. Y’all are welcome to come along if you want.”

“Nope. We’re heading to Sanctuary to see if we can help out,” Angus answered.

“Damn. Y’all really are crazy! How you gonna get through?”

“Same way we did it today mate,” added Jim.

“Well, ain’t gonna try and stop ya that’s for sure. Ain’t nothing but wasted energy trying to stand in the way of crazy. But if you change your mind just head north on US41 ‘till you run into Brooksville. We keep us a little lookout crew at the main intersection. You tell ‘em Greg sent you and they’ll send for me. We'll work it out from there.”

These days the issue of safety in numbers was commonsense but the men weren’t foolish and kept the dogs, light sleepers both of them, close in case someone got up to tomfoolery.

Next morning after a surprisingly restful sleep each group made a quick goodbye as they rushed to take advantage in the lull of zombie activity. Once they headed back south, Wednesday was a repeat of the day before. Except they now had a better system of distraction allowing them to traverse the distance from the SR54/US41 intersection to Sanctuary’s front gates much more quickly.

Angus and Jime arrived mid-morning only to realize that there was no way that they were going to be able to pull into the compound until some of the zombies were cleared away. For the rest of the day communication between Sanctuary and Juicer was sporadic using signs and hand signals.

People on the Wall helped the men's flagging spirits. Juicer gave the people on the Wall hope. Round and round the big truck went scooping up load after load of the dead, compacting them, and then hauling them down the road to dump the biological mess in the pits they had dug so many weeks ago. Angus wondered if the predators and scavengers would be back to feast on this pile like they had the last or if they had all moved on to habitats more closely resembling to their natural one.

The operation continued for hours. Angus and Jim began taking turns; one would drive while the other slept. When evening set it only slowed them down a little but it was a heck of a lot creepier. Still they worked on.

At first light they noticed two things. First was that the number of zombies was noticeably thinner. Second was that they were dangerously low on fuel. They signaled to Sanctuary what their needs were and it was at that point that Scott joined Angus and Jim.

I knew the rest of the story and have already written it in my journal. All I can add is that I will be forever grateful to those two men. Not just for my life or the boys’ lives but because they came back for all of us. They could have easily, and with a clear conscience, abandoned Sanctuary and started over someplace else but they didn’t.

To me that is a big part of what makes Sanctuary different from any other enclave or compound that we’ve encountered thus far. Our people don’t give up. Our people don’t abandon. We don’t sit around waiting for someone else to give us something. Everyone gets a chance to prove their worth and busts their butt for the benefit of all their fellow compound mates. We use our own creativity to improve our position. And then … when the inevitable problem comes along … we kick its ass.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 150 – Thursday (Dec 28)

Christmas was wonderful and the zombies are slowly passing through. I cannot believe how many of them there have been. A few more days and Matlock and Dix think we can start house-to-house searches for any stragglers. I suppose they are right, Lord knows there is no sense in wasting ammo at this stage of the game.

I have no idea what makes the zombies congregate together like this. Eventually all the little hordes are going to combine together to create some huge, writhing mass of zombies. It gives me a chill to even try and imagine such a monstrosity. What we experienced was bad enough. If I wasn’t scared to death that it would cause some huge ecological catastrophe, I’d wish the zombies would just keep heading east and then walk into the Gulf to be eaten by the predators of the deep. As it is we are wondering if we are going to have to deal with this horde again. Will they reach the coast only to swing around and come back the way they were going? That would just suck beyond words. And if they do indeed behave that way, how long do we have to prepare?

Preparing isn't something I've been doing a lot of lately. I am so tired of coughing and wheezing. It seems I just can’t get rid of this stuff whatever it is. I’m not running any fever so I don’t think it’s an infection. Waleski checks my lungs twice a day and he says they rattle but my lungs and throat don’t feel wet. I’m not coughing anything up, I just have this dry irritating and constant hack. The constant coughing is keeping me from sleeping and I have a raging headache from my brain banging around in my head every time I have a coughing fit.

It’s just really wearing me down. Every time I try and do anything I only get so far before I have to sit back down. I finally admitted defeat about an hour ago and it’s not even lunch time yet. If I had the energy I'd be really angry right now. I am so far behind on everything I need to get done. First there was that week in the attic, then Christmas, and now trying to ….


Momma's going to be sad that she made a mess in her journal. Rose and I tried to clean it up for her but there is still ink all over the page where she started coughing and broke the tip off of her pen. Rose said that I had to find another pen to write with but the only one I could find was a green gel pen. I think it’s pretty and Momma likes green so that's what I'll write with when I write in Momma's journal.

The following is being written by me, Sarah Delaine Chapman. That’s my whole proper name but people only call me Sarah Delaine if I get in trouble. They only call me Sarah Delaine Chapman all in one breath like that if I get in a lot of trouble.

Daddy says that I’m to keep Momma company while she is napping. And when she wakes up I’m supposed to send someone to get him. Momma didn’t want to take a nap but Daddy said she had to. They were gonna do the grumpy fighting thing ‘cause Momma wanted to get up and finish writing in this journal and Daddy said she wasn’t supposed to stay awake scribbling, she was supposed to sleep like he said. Then I said I would take detection for her and then she could take a nap. That made them both better. I don’t like it when Momma and Daddy get cranky with each other. It makes me sad.

Oh, Rose just read this and said it isn’t detection, its dictation. Oops. I wish Momma didn’t write in pen. If she wrote in pencil then I could erase things when I make a mistake. Rose also said it wasn’t any of my business to say things like that about Momma and Daddy and that I was just a kid and didn’t understand. I didn’t mean to be bad and if Momma wants me to mark through it when she wakes up I will.

I was going to take dictation but Momma fell asleep anyway which made Daddy get the I-told-you-so look on his face and it’s going to make Momma cranky when she wakes up. It’s also going to make her cranky when Daddy comes because I know he is going to have Waleski listen to her chest and take her temperature again. Normally a kid wouldn’t be allowed to call a grown up by his proper name but Waleski says it makes him irritable for us kids to call him Mr. all the time. Waleski is cranky enough so us kids don’t call him Mr. except for Marty who only does it to be sassy even though his Mom only thinks he is being mannerly. Us kids know the truth. Marty is sassy a lot when his Momma isn't around.

Waleski says that the rattle is moving deeper into Momma’s chest and that he’s going to give her a different medicine called something that I can’t spell. I’ll ask Rose what it is later and she can spell it for me. Rose knows a lot about medicine and stuff now. She’s going to be a doctor someday if the college teachers ever come back. Rose says that Waleski thinks Momma has walking pneumonia. I spelled that right because I just looked it up in the dictionary. It means her lungs are sick and have junk in them.

Waleski and Rose take care of Momma instead of Ms. Rachel. Daddy said Ms. Rachel would let Momma do whatever she wants to do and Daddy says that isn’t good. Ms. Rachel isn’t like that with anyone else. She can holler just like a grown up man. Not as loud as Daddy, but still really loud. She only shrugs at Momma when Momma doesn't want to do something that is good for her.

I think Momma and Ms. Rachel had an argument and that’s the real reason Daddy doesn’t want Ms. Rachel doctoring Momma. Besides, Waleski has been here a long time and he knows Momma better than Ms. Rachel does. Momma treats Waleski like she used to treat Uncle. I think that’s another reason why Daddy wants Waleski to be the one to look after Momma. She’ll get cranky with him a little bit and then she’ll do whatever he wants her to. That’s the way she was with Uncle.

My hand is getting tired so I’ll stop writing until Momma wakes up.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 151 – Friday (Dec 29)

Momma is still sick so I’m taking dictation for her. Rose told me how to spell the medicine Momma is taking. Azithromycin. I can almost say it. Rose says that it sounds close enough and that spelling it right is more important for now. Waleski called it a Zpak. Momma calls them nasty tasting horse pills, but she is taking them anyway without being too fussy because it makes Daddy happy. I heard her talking to Waleski and asking whether there would be enough left in case someone else needed them and he made a grumpy face at her. He said she wasn’t supposed to worry about stuff like that when she was the one that needed it.

Momma crossed her arms and gave Waleski the Mom-Eye. Waleski rolled his eyes; he knows when Momma looks like that she isn’t going to let it go until she gets some answers from someone. Waleski says that there is still different kinds of medicine left and it’s not going to do anyone any good letting them sit there in the cabinets and go past their shelf life. I think that means that it’s not going to do any good to let them spoil. He said most everything has at least a year of shelf life left because they’ve been using up the stuff that has a short shelf life first. I’m glad there is still good medicine or I could have got sick and died from the tiger and Momma might not be getting well either. I’m glad we have Waleski, and Ms. Rachel too, that know how to use the medicines to help us get well. I don't know what we would do without them.

Momma is trying really hard not to be cranky. I can tell she is trying hard because her teeth squeak like she’s trying not to let words out. She knows people are just worried about her.

James said that Momma’s problem is that she worries too much about other people and not enough about herself. James is worried too though. Even though he works a lot of hours on guard duty every day he is working in the gardens and he picks oranges for Momma. He and Bekah make Momma a special grapefruit-tangerine-orange juice just for Momma to drink up a lot of Vitamin C.

Daddy says Momma has a bad habit of confusing her worth with her works. Rose and James rolled their eyes when I asked them what that meant but David told me it means Momma gets her feelings mixed up. She thinks she’s only part of Sanctuary because of all the stuff she can do. And now that she’s been sick and not able to work it makes her worry she might not be part of us or she might be letting people down.

I love Momma because she’s Momma, not because of all the stuff she can do. The stuff she can do is cool, but I love her cause she loved me first when I was a baby and didn't know what real love was. I think I understand though how she feels. It made me really sad when I couldn’t work with the animals. I felt lonely and worried that my friends would forget me or get mad at me because I wasn’t helping with chores. I got really, really sad one day and then I cried. Samuel wanted to know why. I told him and he said that was stupid and not to think like that. He said real friends are friends no matter what and then he figured out a way that I could help even though I couldn’t work like I use to for a while. Samuel doesn’t like writing very much but we are supposed to keep track of all the feedings and how big the animals get and stuff like that. Well, he would scribble everything down and I would re-write it so everyone else could read it in the animal book we keep. That made me feel like I was helping and it made me happy. I think Momma needs something like that.

Except she’s been napping off and on today again. Daddy said to let her sleep because it’s what Momma needs to get better. When Momma is awake she is mostly asking what everyone is doing. Daddy closed the shutters on the house because Momma kept waking up when she heard the noises outside.

There is a lot of noise out there because we are cleaning up from the zombies. Most of them have finally gone away. Matlock is helping to finish put up the wooden telephone poles with Daddy, Mr. Morris, Mr. Kevin and some of the other handy men. Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim and Sgt. Dix and some of the other men are doing a house-to-house search and cleaning up the zombies that are too stupid to find their way out. But all the booming and banging and kablamming kept waking Momma up and she wanted to know what was going on. James asked Daddy if he closed the big shutters would it keep the noise out so that’s what he did.

Now I have to write by lantern light but I don’t mind; it makes the room warmer which is good. It got cold again last night. I also have to watch Johnnie and Bubby because they are still scared from when they were stuck in the attic. It’s so weird to see them acting like babies again. Daddy says they’ll get better soon. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I miss how Johnnie and Bubby used to be. They were a pain but they were like my little brothers were supposed to be. Now they are just quiet and don’t do much but play with the stuff they carry around in their pockets. It’s sad and no one seems to know what to say about it.

The only person besides Momma and Daddy and Rose that they’ll go with is Uncle Angus. They’ll go into the front yard with Uncle Angus and play with the dogs. I heard Uncle Angus talking to Daddy about maybe letting Mischief have babies so that us kids could have dogs of our own to take care of and train. Daddy likes the idea but he’ll have to talk Momma around. She says pets are a lot of work and are like having kids that never grow up. They are always going to count on their humans to take care of them and no one should take a pet on that isn’t willing to make a lifetime promise to take care of their pet. That’s what I think too. It’s a lot of work to take care of Pup. That’s what I call the little Spaniel dog that Waleski saved.

Samuel and I think Pup got taken away from her Momma too young and got traumatized or something. She doesn’t seem to know all the doggie do’s and don’ts. It’s really hard to train her. Marty says she’s just a dumb dog; but she isn’t dumb she just takes longer to learn stuff. And Pup just doesn’t like him and that makes him angry. I wouldn’t like anybody that pulled my ears and tail either. I wish I could bite Marty too when he pulls my pony tail, it hurts. Maddie is Marty’s twin sister and she is OK. Maddie used to be mean like Marty but she isn’t any more. She does a lot of work just like the rest of the big girls do. Rose says it’s because Maddie is getting mature and Marty isn’t yet. Rose says that girls mature before boys do and that I should give Marty a chance to grow up. I think it’s just because Marty is a brat and Maddie decided she didn’t want to be a brat any more so now she is one of the big girls.

Out of all the kids here in Sanctuary I like Samuel best. He is my best friend. Laura used to be my best friend but she is always hanging out with Marty and is getting a smart mouth. Mr. Dante’ and Mrs. Tina have restricted her and she hardly has any free time anymore because she got in trouble so much. And she was mean and said that Samuel was my boyfriend. Samuel stopped coming to see me when he found out and it made me really, really mad and I went and told Ms. Patricia so she could tell Samuel that he was just my friend and that Laura was being stupid and for him not to let it hurt his feelings. Mrs. Patricia laughed and said she'd do her best.

I like Ms. Patricia. She and Momma used to not get along because Ms. Patricia had a lot of troubles and was sick. But now they like each other. Ms. Patricia must have explained things to Samuel because he started coming back around and it was like Laura hadn’t said those stupid things. Samuel likes animals just like I do and it’s fun to have someone to talk to. All Laura ever wanted to talk about was boys. Maybe she was the one that liked Samuel and was mad because he was my friend first. Talk about stupid.

Momma is awake again and she wants me to write some stuff down so she can remember to put it on her chore chart later.

There will be lots of gardening stuff to do in January. One day we’ll have to go around to all the lemon and lime trees and mound soil around the base of the trees that have started to walk up by their roots. I didn’t know what that meant until Momma explained that sometimes when trees grow they can lift themselves out of the ground a little bit and people need to make sure the roots stay covered up or the tree can die or get diseases.

We need to pick up all the fruit that has fallen on the group and put it in the compost pile. James took Johnnie and Bubby and did some of that yesterday to get them out of the house. They pitched a fit and would only go if Rose went too so she and David went and helped pick up fruit too. Rose and David will probably get married one of these days but David says they are too young and things are too crazy right now. David is kind of a grown up so I think he means that Rose is too young to get married and just says it is both of them so she won’t get upset. David does things like that, he likes Rose to be happy. It’s weird to think about Rose getting married but she is the oldest and Momma said we'll all probably get married some day. That's stupid. All I want to do is take care of animals.

We have a lot of tree pruning to do. That means we’ve got to whack off a lot of the limbs on the trees so that they can grow right this year and make as much fruit as they can. We used to do that every year for the trees in our yard. We would take the Christmas lights down and then prune all of the trees and bushes. We didn’t have any Christmas lights this year but we’ve got a bunch more trees to take care of. That’s going to be a lot of work.

Momma says that I can help her plant the roses in the middle of the herb garden if I want to. She never let me help do that before but she says that I’m being very responsible and that proves that I’m mature enough to help plant the new bushes and trees Momma has been growing in pots all year. Momma says that is a really big deal and that I’m growing into a fine young lady.

Momma was supposed to list out all the vegetables that we need to plant in January but she fell back to sleep again. Mrs. Patricia has come by and she told me to go eat dinner and that she’d sit with Momma until I came back. So that’s what I’m going to do. I hope Samuel saved me a spot.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 152 – Saturday (Dec 30)

I feel like I’ve been sleeping for a flaming year. But I also feel better so what does that say about how bad I must have felt before?

Wow, the things kids say … or in this case write. Sarah was assigned the task of being my official babysitter over the last couple of days. She is sitting here now watching me like a hawk. She's got this miniature hourglass that she dug out of a game and it measures about five minutes of time. Every five minutes she wants me to take a drink of juice. It’s both cute and exasperating at the same time. This is definitely a child I need to spend more time with. There are things going on in her life I have no clue about.

I had no idea that Laura was getting into so much trouble. I knew that something has been eating at Tina but frankly I thought it was just the same concerns the rest of us have. Laura is a little young to be messing around with boys, she’s only a couple of months older than Sarah for heaven’s sake, but I suppose if she was being encouraged by Marty … gack … what an awful situation. And Dante’ and Hank work together and are good friends. But that would explain why Tina and Trish have been avoiding one another; Tina trying to avoid trouble and Trish trying to avoid the truth.

Is it my place to say something about this? Maybe Matlock and Dix already know what’s going on. I was the last person to figure out the whole Dix – Rachel – Patricia thing. I don’t know whether I should even attempt to say anything about this. Argh! I'm not going to put up with Marty's little pecker routine if he is going to start encouraging girls that are too young to see through his crap. I might just wind up jacking his jaw myself and worry about Trish's sensibilities later. That’s just one mess we have. There are others.

The zombies have left a God-forsaken wreck all around us. Greenery has been trampled, trees have been stripped of any fruit and leaves that were lower than a tall man can reach, the houses are an awful mess. All the months of cleaning and careful planning for demolition are all gone. There is glass and debris everywhere. Some of the houses are structurally unsound; those Ragers can really tear things up when they get going. Gore and fluids are on nearly everything contaminating what is left that might have been usable. Thank God they didn’t get inside the Wall or we may very well have had to move to a new location. I wonder if this is why the animals that fled before the horde were like they were. It doesn't give me much hope for those enclaves that were out in the east of the county. We haven't heard from them in a long time.

Angus and Jim are not back to one hundred percent yet either. They do what they can but most of the men realize that it is still just mostly to try and be supportive. Men that don’t have anything to do will get into trouble real quick, even injured men. Jim, Angus, and Mr. Morris have been playing around with that still of theirs for a while now. Apparently last night they got the first draw or two off of it and all three of them were higher than a Georgia pine. Scott couldn’t stop laughing when he told me about it. He said they had to pull Angus off the Wall three times before he finally passed out. He was three quarters naked, holding a garbage can lid like a shield and a bamboo pole like a lance and swearing that there were dragons flying around that he had to slay. Jim and Mr. Morris weren’t quite as much trouble but they weren’t much better than Angus. Every time they tried to walk they would complain that the Captain was terrible and there was no need for the deck to pitch like it did if he would hold the rudder steady. I’m thinking I’m glad that I missed the show.

James came in snickering this morning and said that all three men looked like they could crawl in a hole and pull it in after them. Looks like maybe they should have let the ‘shine age a little before taking a toot full. From what I heard growing up the fresh stuff is pretty rough and will make you crazier than Cooter Brown. I never knew exactly what that meant … but the general idea was that crazy only began to describe the person you were talking about. I hope the paybacks don’t last all day but from the sound of things we’ll have three less for meal time until their stomachs stop trying to travel without them.

I told James to lay off because sure as you laugh at someone else’s misery you’ll soon be experiencing some of your own. I also told him if I ever caught him getting drunk I’d skin him like an old cat. He knows I’m serious too. Angus, Jim, and Mr. Morris are grown men and I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and say they didn’t exactly mean to get as bad off as they did. But I won’t have the kids thinking that it’s going to be OK to do that sort of thing on a regular basis. Although if they can get that ‘shine pure enough then I’ll be able to make some tinctures and tisanes with the herbs. I'm using the commercial stuff for the liqueurs and stuff like that. If I can use 'shine for the herbals and save the fancy stuff that will be even better.

Waleski is finally getting interested in my herbal remedy books. I’m wondering if the medicine supply is as strong as he claimed it to be or if he is trying to get a jump on Rachel. She is adamantly against herbals and home remedies. She still sees all of this NRS stuff as a relative blip on the radar and that we’ll go back to modern medicine and techniques in the near future, even if that is a year or two down the road. Personally I think she is in denial and I’m wondering if that is the real problem between her and Dix. Rachel’s outlook may not be uncommon among survivor groups but it’s not logical given our current situation. Even if every zombie in the world was to cease to exist tomorrow there is no way we could return to the way things once were. The production capacity is gone and so is most of our ability to trade internationally for basic materials to manufacture stuff with. Most of the infrastructure has been badly damaged too, not to mention that untold numbers of scientists and specialists joined the ranks of the zombies. I don’t know how she can mentally maintain her fantasy much longer. I really don't.

I am determined to get out of this bed tomorrow. I need to look in on the gardens and see what is going on. I’ll be mindful of not causing a relapse but being afraid of being sick isn’t going to do me any good either. Besides, if I know Scott he’ll probably have someone following me around if he can’t do it himself.

I’m not going to do anything to upset him if I can help it. I woke up in the middle of last night to find him sitting by the bed watching me while he drank a glass of the apple wine I made two summers ago. If I had to guess, I don’t think it was his first glass either. I finally convinced him to crawl in bed and he held me so tight I could hardly get back to sleep. This attic thing rattled him worse than I understood. I knew he was upset but not the full extent of it. I was scared spitless but maybe women deal with that emotional baggage different from men. I know he probably needs to talk it out but I don’t know if he’s ready to or if maybe he needs to talk to a guy instead of me. I wish I knew what to do. I’ll give it a little bit of time before I push the issue.

Speaking of the man, I hear him and James coming in so everyone must be shutting down for the night. He was going to bring Sarah and I our dinner over here since it was so cloudy it got dark an hour early. I guess I hadn't realized how long it has taken me to write all of this out.

I’ll send Sarah off to bed after she eats and hopefully Scott and I can at least cuddle a bit and relax before we go to sleep. Cuddling is about all I’m up for but sometimes that’s the best medicine there is.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 153 – Sunday (Dec 31) – New Year’s Eve

There have been times over the last couple of months when I secretly wondered if we would ever see this day. New Year’s Eve. Last year at this time we had no idea of the chaos our lives would descend into in the new year.

Tomorrow will start another new year. I don’t think it’s going to bring fresh hopes that things will go back to “normal.” Frankly I don’t think our lives will ever be what they were pre-NRS. I don’t even think our children’s lives will get back to that point. Our children’s children? Who knows? Maybe, but a lot will depend on how long the zombies remain animate and how damaged the remaining infrastructure becomes. Population size will also play a key point. It’s a certain fact that economically things will be different for many years to come. Deflation will rule the day … assuming we aren’t living some barter economy from now on. It will be a long time before precious metals and gems even have any value beyond the intrinsic beauty that polishing gives them. Simply trying to determine how to equitably deal with ownership and estate issues will be years in the structuring and even more years implementing. It may be years before they can start to consider how to structure and implement; unless of course they just do a mass nationalization of everything. That won’t fly too well with the people I know. We work hard for our survival. What we’ve built is ours in the truest sense of the word. We've poured our sweat and life's blood into it; literally.

I wish we had some way to find out what was going on with the rest of the country, find out what directions things are going in. If our area is any indicator, there are still lots of depravations occurring by zombies or by raiders of some flavor. It must be the same in many other areas. How bad it is in other areas though is the question in my mind. I wonder sometimes how the evacuees from MacDill made out. Did they get where they were going? And how many met them when they got there? If they did are their plans working? Sometimes I even think about Junie and whether she has regretted her decision to leave, whether she is even still alive.

The other thing that being sick has really made me think about is how other areas are handling health issues. All of these decomposing bodies cannot be a good thing. I was a fool for dumping the NRS infected bodies in those septic tanks the way I did. I’m not sure what else I could have done at the time, but I wish I had done something different. Those trenches that our group dug north of here so that Juicer could dump its load work well enough for now I suppose, but Scott says that the area is very noxious, even more so since they’ve been freshened with the bio-debris from this latest round of zombie clean up. I don’t even want to think about the funky hepatitis types that could be brewing in that mess.

Then I start thinking about “normal” illnesses like the waterborne bacteria of cholera, salmonella, e. coli, and shigella. Or how about mosquito-borne illnesses like Yellow Fever and West Nile Virus. Let’s not forget to add in there all the childhood diseases that we can no longer vaccinate against (or get boosters for) like chicken pox, measles, whooping cough, etc. One of these days everyone’s tetanus shot is going to lose its effectiveness and then we’ll see a return of preventable deaths from scratches and simple injuries. Don’t even get me started on how worried I am about rabies and things like that. It makes my teeth hurt (and I don’t even want to think about the dental implications until I have to) trying to think of ways to protect and avoid exposure to the worst of this stuff and I wonder what life is going to be like for the next couple of generations.

I have little enough time for that speculation however. There are too many other things that need my time and mental energy. The kids for one.

The kids were all playing around by making a resolution list. Of course the big one was more hope than resolution; everyone wants to see the last zombie infestation. I told them resolutions are things that they physically strive to do themselves, not simply something they hope will happen. Then the lists got really creative. I’ll try and facilitate what I can but there are some things that I don’t know if we can provide. A lot of the kids said they want to improve their aim or loading time – now tell me that isn’t strange for a kid to have as a resolution. Sarah and Samuel’s resolutions had to do with animal husbandry – I think I’ll turn that over to Mr. Morris and Reba. Bekah says she wants to qualify for a Ham radio license – I’ll let Scott see if he can get with Dix on that. Marty and Maddie say they want to start their own radio program – that’s a little over the top but it does have possibilities assuming we monitor what they are saying. Josephine wants to go to the Ringling Museum and try and salvage some of the great works of art there – that’s in Sarasota and I have no clue how we’d accomplish that. Rose wants to go to college – that just about broke my heart. I think she knows that it isn’t realistic but I’m beginning to worry about what kind of nonsense that Rachel might be filling her head with.

Speaking of Rachel she said something nasty to me today that if I had had the energy probably would have resulted in a real-knock-down-drag-out between the two of us. As it is James overheard and the only thing that held him back is that we raised him never to hit a female. I’m sure he is going to say something to Scott, Dix, and Matlock about it and that’s just going to cause more trouble. The longer this clearing of the air takes, the more I’m afraid the resulting fracas will cause irreparable damage.

I just needed some fresh air; I’ve been cooped up more in the last two weeks than I have been in years. It was relatively warm and in the 70s so I didn’t need a heavy winter coat on, and Waleski said it was all right for me to take a short walk so long as I didn’t over do it. I decided to go see how the native fruit trees were doing. James said he’d only been over there once and it made me wonder how much of the fruit was going to waste, if any. I didn’t plan on working, just observing. Honestly, I really didn’t.

So I made my way over to the trees and I noticed a few carambolas on the ground but not a lot of other fruit. I reached up and was touching a couple of the fruit to see how ripe they were and thinking that maybe we have varmints taking away the dropped fruit when along came Rachel. Without even stopping to consider I might have just been looking she starts in on me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Are you trying to waste all of our time and medicine? How selfish can you possibly be?!!!”

All I could do was stand there stunned. I couldn’t even come up with a smart aleck comeback. I thought things had been getting better between us; not great, but certainly better than this overblown reaction from her.

“No remorse? No rationalization from the omnipotent mother hen?” she kept pushing.

“Look Rachel, I don’t know what you think you’re talking about but Waleski said I could walk out here and that’s all I was doing,” I said trying to defend myself.

“Oh for God’s sake look at you. If we had a proper triage procedure in place you wouldn’t have even gotten any medicine. You would have been given comfort measures and that is all. And good men put themselves at terrible risk to rescue you and those monsters of yours. Don’t you think you owe them a bit more respect than to be out here showing off … yet again.”

I was totally flabbergasted. All I could do was stand there and flap my mouth open and shut like some stupid fish. No sound would come out. I just didn’t have a clue how to respond to this. I had also started shaking pretty bad too, either from cold or reaction to her attack I still don’t know.

“Look at you. That’s a pathetic act but you don’t fool me, not any more. I know just how sneaky and manipulative you can be. You like the way things are. It gives you control and power to be able to tell other people what they should and shouldn’t be doing. You sit in judgment like some goddess.”

I finally found my voice, “Hey, that’s not fair. And what do you mean that I’m sneaky and manipulative? What have I ever done to you to deserve to have you this angry at me and say such stuff?”

“What have you done?! You know how much Dix means to me and you undermine me at every turn. You listen in on conversations that are none of your business. You’ve convinced him that things aren’t going back to normal, that the way we are living now is how it’s going to be from now on. No wonder Junie left, she must have seen what you were doing to Waleski. You've got all the women trying to be like you. Hell, hardly anyone would talk to me when I tried to be part of the group. I am so sick and tired of you being held up as the example of femininity.”

I couldn’t help it. I know it only made things worse but I really couldn’t’ help myself. I laughed as much as wheezing and coughing allowed me to laugh. “Are you crazy?! I’m just me. If no one knew what to say to you it might be because you were doing something you never do, hang out with the girls. And for your information the only man I want to be feminine for is Scott. So if you and Dix are having problems that is between you and Dix. Don’t blame me or bring me into it as an excuse. For goodness sakes you’re 15 years younger than I am. You are a freaking blonde haired, blue eyed Amazon. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re fit … where is this weird crap coming from? He left Patricia for you and put his relationship with his son in jeopardy ... for you.”

“Listen bitch. You don’t fool me for one second, not any more. I know you. When things get back to normal, when the military comes back in here and takes care of things properly, you will get what you have coming to you.”

She took a threatening step towards me and that’s when James stepped through the bushes, “Get … away … from … my … mother … bitch.”

One, I’ve never heard James swear like that though I suppose most teenage boys make curse words part of their vocabulary at some point, even the ones raised like we tried to raise James. But the thing that really worried me was how much he looked like Scott in that moment. His rifle was slung across his back in its soft case but he still managed to exude menace in a way a sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have. He is definitely his father’s son and when Scott looks like that anyone with any sense plays duck and cover.

Luckily for all of us Rachel still had at least a grain of sense despite a parting shot to say, “Take your mother home where she belongs before she wastes any more of our time and resources.”

I looked at James and managed to grab his arm before he took off after her and said, “Let it go son.”

“No way!” he refused.

“Yes way," I responded. "I appreciate you coming to my defense like that but …"

Outraged he argued, “Mom, she looked like she was going to hit you or knock you down or something!”

I tried to deny the obvious by saying, “Neither one of us can know that for sure. We’ve all had to go through adjustment reactions to deal with what has been happening.”

“That’s no reason … “

Trying to come with a convincing rebuttal I said, "Wait, let me finish. Remember I had to change and let you grow up faster than I was comfortable with. It turned out to be the right thing to do but I have to say it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. You know how hard that was on our relationship and on the family there for a while. I didn't exactly take it well, Other people are having to and will continue to have to make adjustments too. In this case Rachel … I don’t know all of what is going on but it’s not good. I’m beginning to think that maybe she thinks things will just go back to the way things used to be.”

“No way," James denied.

“Yeah. Your dad and I have talked about it. It’s really possible that Rachel is in a functioning state of denial. I don’t know why she is fixated on me, but better me than Patricia who is almost six months pregnant or one of the other women who might not be able to handle it.”

James was pretty confused at that point. “And you are letting her teach Rose to be a doctor?! Are you and dad crazy too? She’s already filling Rose’s head with going to college and stuff like that. You know that’s the reason that David has backed off right? He thinks Rose deserves someone better than him, should have the chance to do all she wants to do.“

No, I hadn’t known that. I wondered to myself if people just assumed that I could learn stuff through osmosis. Would it really be that difficult to explain things to me?

Sighing I said, “David has a point about letting Rose grow up but you also have a right to be concerned about what direction that growing up takes and whether she is getting good counsel so that she can make good choices. I’ll talk to your dad about it.”

“Dad’s already talked to David. I mean David actually was the one that brought it up to Dad ‘cause he didn’t want Dad to think he was some kind of scuzz or that he didn’t still love Rose. I overheard Dad talking to Matlock and Dix asking them what the situation was.”

“Great. Am I always going to be the last to know?” I replied in a huff.

“No. I think it’s just that you give people too much credit and expect them to be the best versions of themselves. Dad never expects people to be the best versions of themselves, they have to prove it to him first. Hey, you’re shaking! I’ll walk you back to the house,” he said as he put his arm around my shoulders. Whether to comfort me or shield me from the cool breeze that had begun I didn't want to consider.

James had grown so much in the last couple of months. I felt like a dwarf. James is going to be several inches taller than Scott before too much longer. It was comforting and consternating at the same time to realize that my little boy really was grown. I know it was going to happen eventually, but it wasn’t that many months ago that I used to shout at him to get off of the blasted Xbox 360 and get his homework finished. Now I have to shout at him to get off the blasted Wall, put the gun down, and take a break.

I don’t know what to do about Rose. I’d noticed there was some distance between us over the last week but I just put it down to her being in “medic mode” and needing to maintain some separation so that she could do her job. Now I’m wondering if that’s really all there is to it. I will skin Rachel alive if she is intentionally - or even unintentionally - interfering with my relationship with my kids. That steps way over the line and there will be consequences, mark my words. On the other hand Rose is getting older and does have the right, up to a point, to make her own decisions even if her father and I don’t agree with them. How can we balance her rights as an adult against our wisdom and experience; and then how do we weigh that against the greater good for Sanctuary as a whole?

Problems, problems. But, there are other things that are looking up. In one particular case quite literally. Angus swears that he was drunk, not delusional. He did see something flying in the sky overhead. He was positively adamant about it. When push came to shove – figuratively in this instance – James admitted to hearing something a couple of times at night, but he put it down to zombies doing something screwy and the sound echoing oddly. Then last night Matlock spotted something in the sky but it was too high and it was too dark to tell for sure what it was. He said that it is either a satellite slowly falling out of orbit, or a plan on high altitude reconnaissance. One I could care less about, the other however could mean any number of things for us and thinking about traps me right back into the fruitless speculation that I don’t really have time for.

Add to this the fact that we’ve started to hear a little bit of chatter on the radio and our imaginations could really go into overdrive. The transmissions aren’t clear. In fact they aren’t decipherable at all. But, we are 99% sure that we’re hearing human voices and not some strange feedback effect or some pre-recorded message loop.

From loop to loopy … and that’s how I’m feeling. Loopy. I’m going to bed. Most everyone else is staying awake to greet the new year in some style. Not me. I just want my warm bed and my man to share it with. Maybe I’m getting old, but given how I’ve felt, that’s plenty enough to celebrate.

 

[Lake Lili]

@Kathy in FL - quick question re: Day 147 – Monday (Dec 25)- Merry Christmas!! (Post #177) as this might be a location description difference - where I am from BBQ mutton is bbq-ed sheep and BBQ goat is just that. So is it the goat being bbq-ed?
Thanks for all the chapters.
Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

@Kathy in FL - quick question re: Day 147 – Monday (Dec 25)- Merry Christmas!! (Post #177) as this might be a location description difference - where I am from BBQ mutton is bbq-ed sheep and BBQ goat is just that. So is it the goat being bbq-ed?
Thanks for all the chapters.
Lili

Yep BBQ goat. More than likely because I'm wrong and you're correct. I asked my mom and she said that goat is goat and mutton is older sheep and lamb is less than a year old. I probably heard "mutton" and "goat" around Granddaddy's BBQ pit and just strung the two together. LOL

I like BBQ goat. In fact I love it. I also prefer pork over chicken. And I eat a lot of red meat.

Sigh. Now I'm hungry but don't feel like going to the Caribbean store for goat. Maybe there is some in the freezer. LOL

 

[Lake Lili]

Sigh. Now I'm hungry but don't feel like going to the Caribbean store for goat. Maybe there is some in the freezer. LOL

I hear you about not going to the store... we're on clean out the freezer so it will be crispy tater tot with sauted onions, garlic and tomatoes, topped with a sprinkle of smoked cheddar. That mess will be served with chicken a la nugget with a side dipping sauce of wasabi and soya sauce... Bbq-ed goat sounds delicious!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Mom’s Journal of the Zombie Years

January: Deceit, Destruction, Evolution, Expansion
Days 154 – 185



Day 154 – Monday (Jan 1)

Right or wrong I haven’t been able to get what Rachel has said off of my mind. It hasn’t helped that our whole family was at odds with one another most of today. I suppose I could blame it all on Rachel but I imagine all families go through periods like this. Something will happen or something will be said and it’s just like static electricity, eventually someone is gonna get a shock. I am just not going to put up with this situation continuing tomorrow. If I have to suck it up and go to Rachel and do a little schmoozing to put things back on an even keel I will. It’s untenable for this to continue as it is given how much we now have to depend on one another.

First thing this morning Rose and James started sniping at each other. From what I gather James said something about Rachel and Rose came to her defense. Then off they went. When Rose got around to telling James he was just too young to understand the situation Scott told her that she was the one being immature about defending a woman that had threatened her mother and that if she kept it up that he’d rethink allowing her to apprentice over at the clinic.

Oh Lord, that set off the fireworks, David got dragged into it and then Rose started to threaten to sleep in the women’s dorm from now on. Rose said some really not nice things but I’m not even sure that at the time she even had a full accounting of what went on yesterday.

Of course Scott decided that he’d had enough. I’d had enough for that matter but I’ve been trying to be better about being confrontational. I certainly didn’t think Scott was going to make the stink he did at breakfast. I can guarantee you that Rachel didn’t expect it.

Scott walked me over and sat me down at our usual table in the mess hall. I was feeling kind of low and I guess it showed. I hate it when there is fighting even though sometimes I’m the one that causes it. Scott is more of a get-it-out-in-the-open-and-deal-with-it type. He’d been trying it my way for the sake of peace; now it was going to be his way.

He walked right over to where Rachel was sitting and conversing with Dixon. She was smiling but it faltered slightly when she saw Scott approaching. I wanted to melt into the ground because I could already sense where it would go. Scott knows I hate that kind of stuff but be was bound to make his point. I really hate to have public confrontations; too much like airing dirty laundry for my comfort.

He looked at her and then pointed at me. “You see that woman over there? That’s my wife. You say jack crap to her that isn’t polite and there will be a problem.”

“Excuse me? You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I just did and I’m not through either. You ever tell her that she is a waste of energy and/or resources again and you can damn sure start doing your own repairs and gathering from here on out. What you have been living off of the last couple of months has at least in part been provided by my family. Sissy has cooked your food, washed your clothes, helped you find medicines that you wanted, and a hundred other things.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said beginning to be shaken that the confrontation was so public. Scott can be vicious mean when someone he cares about is threatened. Part of me wanted him to stop, but I’ll be totally honest and say that there was another part that was going, “Oh please, oh please, oh please let Scott make all this stuff stop.” I don’t care how cowardly that makes me seem, I was nearly to a breaking point and I couldn’t do it all by myself any more.

Scott wasn’t finished. “Girl, don’t lie on top of everything else. James wasn’t the only one that heard all that you said to Sissy yesterday.”

“Your son obviously is too immature to grasp all of the implications. He didn’t understand what I was saying and took it out of context. “

“Rachel I just don’t care about ‘understanding’ your ‘context’ any more. You’ve heard what I said. You stepped way over the line when you started talking about triage and about it being a waste of resources to treat Sissy. Do not threaten my wife or anyone in my family again. You have a job in this community just like everyone else. We may need you for your medical expertise but damn if I’m going to put up with just anything to have it. And here’s another thing, if you start telling lies to my daughter ever, ever again I will make it my business to make your life as much of a misery as I can. And you better believe me when I say this.”

Rachel was starting to really angry. “Sgt. Dixon that man is …”

In a tired voice Dix said, “Rachel, there’s been complaints. He wasn’t bluffing about other people hearing what you said to Sissy. Three other men also over heard what you said and corroborated Scott’s complaint against you. I warned you about this feud you’ve been imagining. I let it go because Sissy was always able to stand up for herself. But right now she isn’t. Not only that, you made it my business, mine and Matlock’s, when you started talking about the fact that we should deny some people medical care and some people not. Hell, we treated those refugees from Hale Hollow. Why shouldn’t we treat one of our own with whatever resources we have?”

“You are seriously taking her side?” Rachel asked in a deadly calm voice.

“I am dealing with a number of complaints that have been brought against you. I’m dealing with them as one of the leaders of Sanctuary because you wouldn’t listen to me when I warned you about it as a friend. You are the one that has left me with no choice.”

“I have a right to know who my accusers are.”

“This isn’t a court Rachel. Just deal with it already and stop making things so hard on yourself and everyone else too.”

“Dammit, who thinks that they have the right to judge … “

Waleksi stood up and said, “It was me Rachel. Dante’, Hank, and I had gone over to the other side of the orange grove to smoke a cigar. I saw Sissy and went over to make sure she wasn’t going to try and sneak in any work. She was just standing and looking at the fruit and at the ground. James must have been watching her from the other side because we didn’t see him until you took a step towards Sissy. Damn Rachel, what did you think you were doing? For that matter, she’s my patient and I don’t consider the time I spent tending to her a waste.”

Rachel looked really shook up. “What is this?! Some kind of protection committee for the beloved Mother Hen? She can take care of herself. Hell, she and Patricia had a few fights and no one intervened.”

Patricia verbally stepped in and said, “Don’t bring me into this. Any problems that Sissy and I had have been worked out. And if you’ll recall I wasn’t exactly stable and in my right mind at the time.”

It took a moment for Patricia’s comments to sink in. “What are you implying?! How dare you accuse me … “

I’d had enough of sitting on the sidelines and feeling pathetic. I sure wasn't going to let Patricia have problems with Rachel, not when she was pregnant and needed her. “Rachel we’ve all had some serious adjustment reactions to go through. I’m definitely including myself in on this. Right now, maybe you're dealing with some stuff …”

“You just don’t like that your daughter likes me better than you. You’re trying to marry her off young and turn her into some little wifey just like you. Well I put a stop to that didn’t I? Not every woman has to do things the way you’re doing them.”

Rose gasped as she started to realize she had been a pawn. Scott and James were getting real bent out of shape and some of the other people were starting to get angry as well. No more, I thought. I held up my hand hoping that people would let me finish. “Leave Rose out of this; Melody too for that matter. I never wanted my girls to limit themselves only to what they saw in my life. I’ve made my own decisions … and my own mistakes … and I expect the girls to do nothing more than learn from them, not replicate them. And Rose’s friendship with David is their personal business. Scott and I hope they wait some but if it doesn’t work out between them we want it to be because they realized it naturally and not because there was undue influence; especially not undue influence out of spite and manipulation.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s enough,” Scott broke in. “Forget the drama and let's get back to my point. You keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to my family. How other people deal with you is their business, this is how I’m choosing to deal with you from here on out. You and Waleski are the only medical support we have in Sanctuary and I don’t have any choice but to grant you a certain amount of respect for that. But I will not tolerate you messing with my family. I’d rather do without than deal with you any more than necessary.”

Rachel stormed off after that. Scott snorted and rolled his eyes at her and then got me a plate and stared me down until I picked up my fork and started eating. Oh brother I hate appearing weak. I hate hiding behind Scott. But you know? If I’m honest part of me was glad it was out in the open and relieved that Scott had so blatantly taken my side.

The kids were pretty subdued all through breakfast but everyone managed to eat, even me. Scott on the other hand acted like he’d had a weight lifted off and had seconds. I suppose it was rough on him to let things go as long as he had. He’s at least as protective of me as I am of him. Everyone else’s reactions ran the gamut from extreme embarrassment to they could have cared less.

The awful thing is I can’t help but wonder if maybe Rachel doesn’t have a point. I mean I know she has some stuff going on in her own head and that not everything she said is true, but some of the things she said makes me wonder about my own motivations and maybe whether I’m not unduly influencing people. ‘Course that sounds kinda arrogant to think that I could, but still. And the thing about maybe not being properly appreciative of the danger that others have put themselves in on my behalf … yeah, that makes me squirm pretty good. And if I have put myself in a position where I’ve unnecessarily used up resources that could have been put to better use later on? I don’t know, it’s like bugs crawling around in my psyche. I can’t seem to just ignore it.

Rose came home and had a good cry in the late afternoon. Scott brought her home and after she went to lie down he said Rose and Melody had had a real row with Rachel. Looks like Rachel is screwing up left and right. Those two girls all but worshipped the ground she walked on. Yeah, I was jealous up to a point, but I also always knew that Rose’s life was going to be considerably different from my own. Even before NRS I knew that the likelihood of her life and mine bearing anything more than a passing resemblance wasn’t in the cards. I hate like sin that she’s going through this but at least our family is piecing itself back together. Life is just way too short these days for this type of stuff to go on and on.

Rose is still asleep so I never got to ask her specifically what went on but I did talk to Melody. She was pretty upset herself but bearing up better than Rose. She said that Rose confronted Rachel about what she had said to me and asked for … no demanded … an explanation. They got one but it was long, rambling, and so convoluted that Melody didn’t know what to make of it. She said Rachel is really great on one level but on another there is something badly wrong. Waleski must have called for Scott to come over and then Dix showed up too. She didn’t know what went on after Scott brought them home but I imagine we’ll all find out tomorrow.

Like I said, if it takes me making nice to Rachel I will. I just don’t want this stuff to go on anymore. We need all the energy we have to fight for our survival. This is doing none of us any good.

Tomorrow we are going to try and get back on schedule. I’m still on restricted duty but tomorrow is just mending day. I think I can manage to sit on the front porch and do some stitching. Angus said he’d come by and bring the dogs for the kids to play with; try and get their minds off of what has been going on. I know if he could he’d be going with Cease and Jerry to do some hunting. We need fresh meat pretty badly. Between the gardening not getting done and all the lost fruit outside the Wall we are literally eating up our stored foods too quickly. I don’t know how much luck the hunting party will have but even if they only bring back some rabbits that will be better than nothing. We need another safari trip over towards Busch Gardens, if nothing else to see if the zombies came through there.

Well, I’m yawning like crazy. I feel a little less like Old Mother Hubbard tonight but I’m still looking forward to my pillow earlier than everyone else. Scott told me he’d put the kids to bed and make sure that James’ bag was ready for him to take early shift and for me to go on. God I love that man. I think I’d die if anything happened to him.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 156 – (Wednesday)

Not much time for writing. There’s no one to complain about me being back on the work rosters now, there’s no choice. Too many can’t work. Those of us that can do something must no matter how difficult. Not one of us remaining in Sanctuary has escaped injury or nearly incapacitating grief. What's left but to put one foot in front of the other? The children, those that are still with us, need us. And we need them to give us purpose.

Yesterday … there are no words for what happened yesterday. We’ve counted our dead, buried them, and now are praying that none of our injured add to the total. We have one missing but I suspect where he has gone and more power to him. May God speed his mission. Damn all pirates and raiders to hell. May they rot in the lake of fire forever and ever amen.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 157 – Thursday (Part 1)

This is the hard part. The waiting. The waiting and praying in the darkest part of the night.

There’s hardly any sound in Sanctuary. We weren’t noisy before, we limited our decibels to avoid attracting more infected, but there were normal every day sounds. We were alive. This is almost like the nothingness of the dead, their gapping maws open in roars and screams that will never be heard. Like Sanctuary has become a walking corpse itself.

They must have been casing us. That’s the only explanation. The methodology was too planned out, too specific to our compound. We still can’t tell if the two groups were working in concert or if one decided to steal from the other and feed off of us like a hyena pack on a lion pride’s kill. One from the front, one from the back.

Tuesday started out ordinarily enough. Cease and Jerry left before first light on bicycles; the older man on a three-wheel with a basket and the young man joyously free on a 10-speed Schwin. I didn’t think it the smartest thing to do at the time but both men wanted to see if they could depend on non-motorized transportation for hunting. The fact that they left so quietly is what probably hid them from notice; at least then.

I was buttoning Kitty’s sweater in preparation of taking the kids over to breakfast. Scott and James were both on the Wall and David was stacking wood over at the kitchen and then planned to help Scott secure another two or three sections of poles before lunchtime. Angus had come over with the dogs and Johnnie and Bubby were trying to play with them but the dogs were spooked for some reason. Angus was looking at them perplexed because the dogs always want to play.

Then the world shifted on its axis and nothing will ever be the same again.

Several of us smelled it at the same time, I noted several adults in the pale light of dawn stick their noses in the air and sniff just as the dogs started howling. Then there was a whoosh followed closely by heavy black smoke pouring into Sanctuary on the breeze from the south Wall area. Dix and Matlock were shouting the first order when WHAM! I haven’t heard that much continuously loud noise since before they tore Mabel’s house down. Radios, I still don’t know how many, blaring enough bass to rattle windows. You couldn’t even think for all the noise and smoke much less hear the directions that Matlock and Dixon were trying to shout. Heck, within minutes it was hard to breathe and see; hearing was pretty far down on the list of concerns at that point.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 (Part 2)

No one is prepared for this sort of ruckus as 5:30 in the morning. There had just been a shift change and people were in the midst of thinking about breakfast and from there onto whatever they had planned for the day. The thick, dark smoke and the music caused everyone to focus their attention; just as it was designed to do. A diversion. One thrown at us so quickly that most of us never even thought about it being a diversion.

Everything was so infernally loud. I’ll never be able to hear Paranoid by Ozzy Osbourne again without thinking of that day and how darkness, death, and destruction closed in on us; on some of us for the last time.

We thought there was a fire. Nearly every man on the Wall and in Sanctuary ran to put it out. But the Wall wasn’t on fire. It was four delivery vans, their tops taken off and filled with tires, doused with fuel (what we had smelled), and then set aflame. The Wall itself was in no danger of catching. That odd fact only added to the confusion.

While we were all focused on the billowing black smoke a car hauler backed up to the front gate area. James, who had stayed put at the farthest NW guard tower, fired off a few warning shots, hitting one of the intruders who subsequently tumbled to the ground, but it was too late. Armed pirates began to pour over the top of the gate using the car hauler’s ramp like stairs. The sides had metal plates welded to it and provided too much protection for those few still on the Wall to make any good shots.

When I heard the shots and saw the raiders I started screaming at the kids to get in the house and go to the center, to our storm room. I thrust Kitty into Rose’s hands while Melody hauled Sis and Belle in by their little arms. Everyone knew the drill. Women and children were to converge on our house since it was still the most defendable in Sanctuary. And praise be, Scott hadn’t opened the shutters back up yet because he’d been too busy. That saved me some time that I used to make sure my pistol and rifle were fully loaded and within easy reach.

Then an explosion ripped the morning wide open, the percussion nearly bowling me over, slamming me hard into the front door's frame. It was one of our buildings near the front. I couldn’t tell which. It wasn’t but a second before debris began raining down all over the compound.

There was lots of gunfire by this time from all over the compound. The bastards had really done it; they were inside. I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t going to bolt the door until I was sure that no one else was coming but I knew I didn’t have much time left to make the choice. I had the rifle out and safety off but couldn’t tell whether the shapes moving in the grayness were friend or foe. Finally, out of the smoke came Waleski carrying Patricia.

“Get her inside and if Rose and Melody are here just tell them to do their best. I’ve got to help … ,” he gulped but didn’t finish what he was going to say which did not bode well and scared the heck out of me. “Just tell Rose and Melody to be prepared, I’ll bring those that I can back here.” Then he disappeared back into the smoke.

I had finished handing a nearly insensible Patricia off to the girls when Angus burst through smoke half carrying, half covering Rhonda. “Here’s another one. The bastards are all over the place and our people are scattered. Get inside, I’ll cover the front. The dogs are guarding the rear. Mayhem and Butch have a guy down back there tearing him apart. Keep Pup out from under foot or the mood they're in they might forget she's a friend. Keep the kids away from being able to see anything, Uncle Angus is right pissed off.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 3

I got out of Angus’ way after setting a full canteen of water just inside the door. He knew what he was doing and sure as heck didn’t need my help. I knew for a cold hard fact that he’d die before he let anyone cross that threshold that would harm the children. Even Rose and Melody calmed down when they realized who was covering the door.

It was at that point that I began wondering where was Scott, where was James, where was David. Round and around and around in my head those questions danced. I tried to place them when the gunfire started but they could have moved anywhere. I knew James had still been in the NW tower because I heard him yell the warning followed by shots from that position. I had no idea if he was still there or not. Scott was supposed to be on the Wall too. But David was over by the kitchen. I hadn't seen him.

I made my way out to the carport hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. After a few moments Brandon tumbled out of the smoke with Josephine in his arms. I ran out to grab them and bring them to safety and nearly ran into Jack.

“Sissy have you seen Patricia?!”

“She’s inside with Rose and Melody.”

He all but sagged in relief. “Tell her … tell her … “

“Come in and tell her yourself,” I said as I tried to tow him along the same way I was doing Brandon.

“Can’t. I’m hooking with up Dante’ and we’re going to do our best to keep any more from coming in the rear. That should give the others more time to take care of the ones inside the Wall,” and he was off, disappearing into the smoke.

I had no choice but to let him go and deal with Brandon. Tears streamed down his eyes, blood from several small facial cuts flowing with them.

“Sissy, a piece of debris came down and landed on the cook stove. There was this huge flash. Josie was looking straight at it. She says she can’t see.”

All I could think of was to get them both inside and give Josephine to Rose and Melody and hope that Rachel and Waleski would show up soon.

I glanced at Angus’ back but he was too busy to ask anything of. I could hear bullets pinging off the metal shutters and concrete block. I refused to think about that and then did something that I knew I had to. I went over to Rose, took her in my arms and gave her a hug.

Rose knew immediately what I was planning, “No mom … no … no you can’t!”

“Listen to me. There are people out there that need help. Some of them might not be able to get here on their own. You two are all the medical help we have right now. I’m going to get the injured and bring them back here.”

“But … but what about us?!”

“This is for you sugar. I want you to know I trust you. I trust you to do this. And you have to trust me to do what I have to do. Angus is protecting the front. The dogs are covering the rear although it’s unlikely anyone could get in that way anyway. Brandon?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m counting on your too. I need you to hang out in the carport area and take in anyone that needs help. Angus is too busy and too focused. This is important. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I gave Rose and the other kids a hug and then told Brandon, “Ok, follow me out.”

When we got out of earshot I added, “Brandon, don’t you dare let anyone get to the girls. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, ma’am. There were men like that in the refugee camps when we were still in south Florida. I saw what happened to some … I won’t let anyone hurt them. I won’t. I promise.”

“I know you won’t son. Make sure you keep Scott's shotgun handy and here is an ammo can. They're reloads from Mr. Morris. Scott says it’s a mule kicker so be ready for it. Just make sure you know what you're shooting at.”

As I turned to leave he grabbed my arm. “If you see my dad … I think it was our house. The explosion. I think it was our house. I recognized pieces of wallpaper that came out of the sky. If you see my dad, tell him, tell him I’m OK.”

I tucked the possibility down in my mind. I think Brandon must have already suspected – felt – that his family was in trouble. The look in his eyes was bleak.

First on my mind though was James. I had a horrible feeling. It was squeezing my heart in a vice.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 4

There was no way I could go around front of the house. I wasn’t about to get between Angus and whatever he was aiming at. I was feeling bulletproof but only up to a point. I hope to heavens that I’ve left stupid behind a long time ago.

So, using the carport and the east fence as cover, I made my way behind and around our property, aiming for my path through the orange grove. It is quite hidden because we’ve left the rest of the orange grove pretty overgrown, saving the grass for animal fodder.

I could hear the dogs in the backyard … and screaming. They were obviously still doing their doggie duty. I hope that whoever they took out that they’d complete disable the corpse. I didn’t want to come home to find zombies on the lanai.

I made it to the middle of the north fence before I had to deal with any problems on my own. Two raiders came out of the smoke. One asked in a nakedly nasty sing song voice, “Well, what do we have here Leo?”

The other leered and responded, “Looks like a little fun Tad. Right when we decided to go on break too. Must be a sign.”

Dumbasses the both of them. They talked like a couple of white collar schmucks that had gone to the darkside. Too bad for them. I didn’t have a light saber but my machete proved to be just a deadly. Swipe one took ol’ Leo’s head off. Swipe two did the same for pretty boy Tad. Their heads might reanimate but they weren’t going anywhere if they did.

I know I should have been horrified at how easily I killed. Looking back at it now I kinda am, but only kinda. At the time, not at all. They were in my way. Not only were they in my way but they were threatening rape or worse. If I’d had time to waste I would have handed them their little boy parts on a platter before taking care of their other pea-sized heads.

I plowed on through the heavy smoke wondering when the stuff was going to start dissipating. It was noxious and coated the inside of my throat as badly as the inside of my nose. Through the orange grove, through the native fruit grove. On the other side of the last tree the smoke thinned out and then a breeze carried it up and out of my way.

I fell to my knees in shock. The NW corner of the Wall was gone. It wasn’t a huge gap, about two people wide, but it was still there. Anyone and anything could walk right in. Then I realized, if I could see the NW corner of the Wall was missing I should have been seeing the NW guard tower.

No, no, no, no, no. I ran over. It was like someone had kicked over a bunch of tinker toys. It was just in pieces. In the center, sticking out from under the tarp that used to keep the wind and sun off of him, my son’s leg protruded. Slowly I moved over and lifted back the tarp; it crackle as I pushed it to the side. His foot, then his leg, the waist band of his jeans were soaked in blood. I vaguely remember crying out, but I couldn’t stop. I had to know. The back of his t-shirt was filthy with sand and debris. Then he shuddered … and groaned. Zombies don’t groan. I yanked the tarp the rest of the way off. His face was battered but his eyes were open.

I must have started laughing like a loon. My boy was alive! He was trying to say something but his lip was split pretty good. I leaned down.

“Mom … Mom …”

“Momma’s here baby. Give me a sec to think and I’ll get you out.”

“No … Mom … “

“Honey, save your strength.”

“Mom! … look …”

“What baby? Do you need something? Are you in pain?”

“Mom …. look … out.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 5

It took me a crucial second to register what he was saying. Somewhere along the way I must have learned my lesson because by the time I had rolled around and faced the threat I had my Mark III out and the safety off.

Coming our way at a trot were two raiders. One had once been fairly obese but now had lots of sagging flesh flapping over his belt and below the hem of his shorts. The other was never overweight and in fact was all but emaciated. This raider group was either really bad at what they did or these two were on the bottom of the pecking order. They obviously weren’t getting their three squares a day.

“You think that little shits dead this time?”

“He better hope for his sake that he is. Samson is pissed off in the extreme. That kid has taken out over a dozen of our top guys. “

The once fat man shuddered and said, “Yeah. Look, if he ain’t dead let’s put him out of his misery.”

“Are you out of your mind?! If Samson found out we’d be the one in the iron maiden.”

They both shuddered. And I must have lost it. They were NOT touching my son. Blam. One down. Blam. Dang, I missed that time. Blam, blam, blam. That skinny guy sure could weave and dodge but I’d had enough. Apparently so had James. Even injured he was a better shot than I’d ever be. Bloody, laying on his gun, he still managed a head shot on a moving target.

But the jarring of the gun was too much for him. He cried out in pain and all but tried to curl into a fetal position.

A snapping in the bushes had me spinning around again, gun ready.

“Whoa! Sissy, don’t shoot!!!”

It was Waleski. As soon as he saw that I had the gun under control he rushed over to James. “Damn Sissy, what do you put in your family’s Wheaties?! Matlock saw the tower go and he said there was no way that James could have survived it.”

“Then why are you over here?” I asked shocked and immediately angry that they had just labeled James as a casualty without making sure.

“Scott.” But when he said it something in me starting shaking.

“You mean Scott sent you over here to make sure.”

His hesitation, though brief, had me ready to scream. “No.”

“Where is he? Where is he?!”

“Sissy calm down, there’s nothing you can do … “

“Don’t you say that. Don’t you dare say that. Where is he?!!!”

He looked up to the palisade between what used to be the NW guard tower and the right front gate tower.

An arm hung off the palisade. I knew that arm. I knew the shirt. I knew the wedding ring on the hand. “No. No. No.” That’s all I could say.

“Sissy we need to get James out of here. I need to get him someplace so I can patch him up. Dix is trying to re-take the gate towers. As soon as he does we’ll get up there and get to him. There’s just no way to do it right now. We CAN get James to safety.”

No one will ever know how hard it was for me to just leave him there. Not having seen his face. Not knowing for sure.

The only thing that got me moving was the sure knowledge that had our positions been reversed I would have expected Scott to do what had to be done.

“Sissy, this is going to hurt him but I don’t have any choice. You’re too short to carry him. We could put him on a travois but if we had to move fast we might have to abandon him. And someone has to act as security. Sissy, are you listening to me?”

I nodded, still looking at Scott’s out stretched hand. Then I shook myself. “What do you need from me?”

“I’m going to put him across my shoulders and carry him back to your place. I’ll be as gentle as possible but it’s going to hurt him. I’ll be honest, I could be doing as much harm as good but I don’t see any other choice at this point. I’m not going to move any faster than I have to but we’ve gotta move. They’ll be sending someone after those two. You’re going to need to keep an eye out for the enemy and help me get through the bushes. Can you do that?”

I’ve never been in such a cold place in my life. All of my warmer emotions seemed to have frozen up. I told him, “There’s nothing I won’t do to save my son. And anyone that tries to get in the way of that better pray they’ve taken care of everything they need to do in this life because they’ll shortly be leaving it.”

Waleski’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair line. “All righty then. James, listen up kid, this is going to hurt like a sumbitch. But we gotta move as quiet as possible so try and keep it down as hard as that might be. If you pass out, don’t worry about it. Just try not and puke. That won’t be fun for either one of us. OK, here we go.”

Waleski wasn’t a big man, but he was deceptively strong. He had James up and across both of his shoulders in a fireman’s carry in just a few seconds. Amazingly enough, except for a few problems walking through the loose sand in the orange grove, we didn’t have any problems getting back to the house. All the action seemed to have settled in at the front gate area with another small pocket of fighting at the rear gate.

Brandon covered us so we could come me in safely. There were more permanently dead in front of our house than any other location I had seen thus far. Angus had done what he set out to do … and so had Brandon.

Seeing us Brandon said in relief, “Please check on Uncle Angus. I think he’s hit. They tried to rush the house about 15 minutes ago. A couple of them got close enough that Angus took ‘em on hand-to-hand with that big club of his. Then some guy let off some buckshot and I heard Angus start swearing really loud. Some guy went flying backwards into the yard with his head bashed in but I haven’t heard anything else in five minutes or so. I was just about to go check on him except there are some raiders over behind those bushes and I was afraid if I left my post … “

“Hold steady kid,” Waleski told him. “You did good. Give me time to put James down and I’ll check on Angus too.”

I called for Rose and Melody and they rushed in to help with James. The girls were both already exhausted. Sarah calling from another room yelled, “Rose! Mrs. Murial is making that funny sound again!”

Waleski looked a question at Rose and she said, “I think she is stroking out.”

“Shit! Do what you can for James. Where is she?”

“On the floor in the girls’ bedroom,” she answered as she started to cut away James’ clothes.

I knew what that meant and confirmed it when I saw Rose had put some kind of bit in Murial’s mouth and strapped her arms and legs down to a makeshift stretcher.

“Sissy, help me get her to the carport. She’s about to expire and the undertaker’s tool isn’t something even I can stomach to use in a damn frilly pink canopied bed.”

Moving as quickly as we could we hauled the stretcher out of the house and away from the children. Passing through the house I saw Angus wave to me as Melody was bandaging his left bicep. Josephine and Maddie were both lying on the floor in the living room. Josephine had her eyes covered. The right side of Maddie’s face from below her eye to her jaw line was an angry, seeping burn. Callie Morris sat there holding a thick, blood-soaked towel to her big brother Clay’s head. Reba was tending to her father who was deathly pale and whose left hand was oddly bandaged and held tight to his body. Rilla sat rocking her two year old son Ty who was pale and limp.

“My God! Where’s Rachel? She should be here. Is she getting supplies from the hospital?”

“No.”

“No? Is there another group of injured people she’s bringing in?”

“Rachel’s not coming.”

“What do you mean she’s not … Oh no. Oh no. What happened?”

“It was the explosion. Everything was already crazy and when the explosion went off … You know how it works. Rachel and I are supposed to grab our gear and be ready. Rachel and I were both running for the hospital when we realized it was raiders. The explosion knocked me on my ass. I turned around to make sure she could get to her feet." He gulped for air, sounding suspiciously close to tears. "It was a piece of something metal. It … it caught her in the back of the head Sissy. She wouldn’t have felt a thing and it was instantaneous. Now I’m it. Dammit Sissy, I’m all there is. She was the better medic, had more training, lived and breathed this stuff. She wanted to be a doctor, would have been a great one. Now y’all are stuck with just me. Hell of a thing that is.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 6

I lost what little breath I had left. There were so many things wrong with that scenario I didn’t know where to start. But I didn’t have time to deal with it right then. Waleski was on the raw edge of something … panic maybe … but still trying to hold himself together.

“I have confidence in you. You are the one we’ve always chosen to treat people in our family. We’ll figure it out.”

“Sissy, I don’t know if I can do this. But damn if I’ll just give up without a fight. Just don’t expect miracles.”

“Of course not. Miracles aren’t man made,” I told him.

He just looked at me and shook his head. “Geez. Half the time I don’t know what to say to you. “

“It’s a talent,” I said trying to egg him on a little bit.

“Humph. Are you up for this? It’s not pretty.”

“Is she really going to turn?”

“Probably. Sissy you know that over 95% of first-deaths result in NRS reanimation. It would be nice to say it wasn’t going to happen to those we know and care about but you know damn good and well we can’t take that chance,” Waleski started out angrily.

“Easy. I was just checking what I thought I knew, not questioning your diagnosis. I know the facts even if I don’t like them. Is this a stroke or what?”

“Probably 'or what.' I think it’s a seizure and not a stroke. She had a history of them but according to Jerry hadn’t had one in over ten years. They never found out what caused them and when the seizures stopped they stopped looking for a medical reason for them. Damn, there she goes.”

The last seizure had been too much for Murial’s body and she died. Almost instantly however you could see her reanimating. It’s hard to describe but you can tell that somehow for a moment no one is home anymore and then suddenly someone is, but it’s the wrong someone.

Waleski touched the tool to the top of the head and turned it on. I’d seen how the tool worked before and saying it wasn’t pretty was an understatement. A piston like rod punctures the skull and enters the brain. A small fan of wire blades drops out of the rod and begins to spin. Fifteen seconds is all it takes if the puncture is made at the top of the skull. The wires basically shred the brain center and cause enough damage that NRS does not have enough connections to manipulate the host body. The body is still infectious for some time but cannot reanimate.

We placed Murial’s body and the sheets we had carried her in inside an NRS body bag. That’s the one thing that doesn’t seem to be in short supply these days. Those cheap bags designed specifically to keep fluids in until an infected body can be appropriately disposed of. I’d cry for Murial later. Right now there was simply too much other pain that came first. Like my fear that I'd have to stand by while someone did this to Scott.

By that time we had two confirmed dead – Rachel and Murial – several injuries and a lot of missing and unaccounted for. I stood up and started to leave the carport.

“Where the hell do you think you are going?” Waleski demanded.

“I’m going back to Scott.”

“Are you out of … you see what’s going on. Matlock and Dix, probably all the men, are taking the fight to the enemy. You hear that gunfire?! You have no idea what you’d be walking into. I can’t go with you!”

“I didn’t ask you to come. I know you have bigger responsibilities than to babysit me.”

“What the hell am I suppose to tell your kids?! And Angus will chew my ass if I let you go out there alone.”

“Tell my kids that I’m going after their Dad. Tell Angus I said for him to think about what he’d do if he was in my shoes. Move Brandon, and no, you’re not coming with me. You’re needed for security here. You promised me you’d keep the girls safe.”

Without looking back I made my escape and hauled butt to the orange grove and then stopped in the tall grass and tried to pull a plan together in my head. As I was thinking a decomposing hand grabbed my arm in a painfully tight grip. A shambler. It probably came through the gap in the Wall, attracted by all the noise. That’s all we needed on top of everything else.

The Mark III was in my hand and I pulled the trigger at point blank range of the corpses forehead. One down and I thought please God don’t let there be any more to go.

If I was going to get to Scott I didn’t see that I had any choice but to get closer to the fighting. I took a second to reload the Mark III, re-check the rifle, and make sure that my machete was ready too. I then stopped to listen, really listen, to what was going on around me. Waleski was right, walking blindly into battle would not be a good way of surviving it. The fighting was still mainly focused at the two gates but now that I was really listening I could hear confrontations occurring in other parts of the compound.

There was more gunfire close to our house that must have started right after I ran off. I put them all in God’s hands and had to trust that Angus and Brandon could hold on.

Then I could tell another small battle seemed to be going on in the NE corner of the compound. That would be the Morris households. That’s one family that would not go down without a fight.

I had determined to get closer to Scott by going straight across the grove and then behind the houses between me and the Wall. No one must have thought a lone female would be crazy enough to do what I was doing. Scratch crazy … determined enough to do what I was doing. I passed a group of raiders and they never even noticed me squatting down behind a bunch of azalea bushes. They were too busy looking around in jerky, frantic movements. Something sure had spooked them.

I was about to move on when shots rang out dropping three of the four intruders. I froze and watched Matlock step out of the smoke and drop the fourth with the butt of his rifle. He then took an ax and with several solid whacks made sure they would never rise again.

I thought to reveal myself before I got a look at Matlock’s face. He was in a different place. Over the last couple of months I’d begun to suspect that no one in their right mind would really want to make Matlock lose his temper. He could be fiercely protective. He tried to hide it most of the time with humor but no one was laughing now. Before I could make up my mind Matlock put the ax back on a belt loop and hefted his rifle and disappeared into the smoke once again.

As scared as that episode should have made me it was actually comforting in a bizarre way. If we were going down we were by glory not going down without a fight. Every possible attempt was going to be made to hurt the enemy ten times as badly as they hurt us. The only retreat was one to regroup and come back even more vicious and determined than before.

With a renewed sense of confidence I turned to get closer to Scott … and nearly ran into a raider that was tracking Matlock. Here was my chance to save the man that had many times over protected my family.

I thought no sense in drawing any notice to myself. The name of this game was to do as much damage before anyone realized you were there and then move on like a ghost. I pulled the machete and suffered a huge disappointment for my over confidence. The guy was wearing some kind of metal neck guard. Now that I’ve had time to ruminate on the mistakes I made that day I realize he probably wore it as zombie protection. But at the time I took it as some strange effort to humiliate me personally. I did hit him hard enough to make him gag which is probably the only thing that saved me. He bent over, forcing me to step back. This guy's buddy stepped forward at that exact moment and pulled the trigger of a very big, very loud shotgun.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 7

If I hadn’t backed up I would have caught the full brunt of both barrels of the shotgun blast. Instead the blast messily took most of the head off of raider #1. Major ewwww factor. Luckily for me raider #2 was standing in shock looking at the mess he had made and was not wearing a fancy neck brace. Whack! And that was all she wrote. Better luck next time sucker. I think I was getting a bit adrenaline drunk by that time. My reaction certainly wasn’t a normal one.

I crept around two more houses and didn’t have any further encounters. The closer I got to Hank and Trish’s house the more damage I saw and the more debris that littered the ground. And then I saw it; or rather I saw the remnants of it. The house had been blown off of its foundation. The concrete slab was cracked and broken apart. There was … stuff … everywhere. I stopped under a large oak to figure out a way to cross the now open expanse of ground when something fell from above to land across my arm that I had leaned on the tree with.

One look and reality slammed back into place. Gone was the high from the adrenaline rush I had been feeling. Gone was the protective cocoon my mind had woven. I’m a country girl. I know what chitterlings looked like before they are cooked. I was heaving and gagging before I even thought about it. I jumped back and slung the length of intestines off of me as quickly as I could. That made it at least three dead. Whose guts those actually were I didn’t know.

Now I could see bloody bits and pieces mixed with the flotsam of household goods that was spread all over.

I hate being snuck up on. The hand on my shoulder nearly gave me a heart attack and I raised my machete in self defense.

“Ya miss me?”

I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I looked over my beloved’s shoulder to see McElroy and Dix grinning like fools.

I wrapped Scott in my arms and said, “Don’t you EVER do that again. Scott Michael Chapman you had me more scared than … more scared than … “

“More scared than I was when I realized you and the boys were stuck out in the horde?”

I just broke down crying at that point and hugged him all the harder.

“Easy Babe. I’m a little busted up.”

As fast as I could ask the questions he answered. He’d been on the Wall trying to get to James when the Pirate called Samson had tossed a couple of charges into Hank and Trish’s house. Their house is the closest to the Wall on that end. The explosion knocked Scott into the Wall itself, slamming him hard enough to knock him unconscious. The explosion also weakened the supports on the guard tower. Rather than get to a safer position, James had remained and continued to fire, covering his father’s helpless body and taking out as many of the enemy as he could. He certainly irritated the pirate, especially when at least two of his shots would have taken him out if other men hadn't stepped into the line of fire. Finally a smaller charge was lobbed at the tower’s base collapsing it completely.

Scott came to while Waleski and I gathered James to take him away to safety. He said he could hear us but he was still too stunned to move. After we left, he slowly inched over to the broken place in the Wall, drawing as little notice to himself as possible.

As he was attempting to climb down, David and Cease showed up and helped him down the rest of the way. They also helped him get to our house. They met up with Dix and McElroy right before they reached the carport. Of course this was only to discover I had just taken off again.

After Waleski gave Scott a quick exam and found nothing more than some pretty severe contusions the five men headed back to look for me, knowing I would totally freak out when I didn’t see Scott on the palisade. On their way they ran into Matlock. Now six, the men formulated a quick plan that echoed the Pirate’s own original diversion. When I heard this I could hear Rachel again saying that I didn’t show enough appreciation for the people who put their lives at risk for me. I shut that voice down as quickly as I could. I had enough on my mental plate as it was.

Scott, Dix, and McElroy came to find me and to keep me out of the trouble that was brewing. David and Cease took some of the homemade bombs that Matlock had been experimenting with and escaped out the broken place in the Wall. This time the diversion was going to be a distraction for the pirates. Matlock … well Matlock continued to take the battle to the intruders. Those that got in his way were shown no mercy. Now that Scott and I had been hooked back up, Dix and McElroy ghosted into the smoke to do their own bit of damage to our enemies.

Scott pulled me into his arms one more time now that the other men were gone and gave me a kiss that made the stars fall out of the sky. Wowee; I can still remember the taste of the acrid smoke on both of us but I was passed caring. Everyone in our immediate family had been accounted for. James and Scott were the only injuries thus far and Scott was up and walking. When I mentioned this to Scott he told me that David was bruised up pretty good too.

“He’s a scraper that kid. Took on a guy twice his size when his gun jammed. Waleski showed up and shot the guy but not before David had put up a good fight and given some of us a chance to get into a better position.”

“Hmmm. That must have been part of what set Waleski off. He wanted to know what we fed our kids.”

Scott gave a dark chuckle and we did our own fade into the smoke and were heading for the native grove when three large explosions, one right after the other, went off outside the front gate. Scott and I hesitated and looked at each other. We both sent up silent prayers for David and Cease's safety.

I don’t know why I had to start shaking at that moment. I’m one of those people that are fine during an emergency or a crisis but after everything should be fine I come apart. While everyone else was crying and rushing around like crazy on our wedding day, I was calm and as cool as a cucumber; totally serene. We say our vows and walk back to the vestibule of the church to the applause and well-wishes of everyone in the church and as soon as we got to the changing room I fell apart for no reason and couldn’t stop crying for nearly five minutes. There are some days when I don’t even make sense to myself.

After over 20 years though Scott was used to it and just hid us in some overgrown shrubbery and let me have my momentary breakdown.

“Oh Scott, I’m sorry. It’s just everything hit me now that I know you aren’t …. “ I couldn’t even finish saying it. “We have three dead and … “

“More,” Scott sighed.

“More what. More? You mean more than three dead on our side?”

“Yeah. Who are you counting?”

“Murial, Rachel, and whoever was in Hank’s house.”

“I didn’t know about Murial. They got Jerry outside the Wall when Cease and he came back on the run after hearing the explosion. No one has seen Hank or Trish. Maddie said they were still in the house when it exploded. She had been taking out their chamber pot which was why she wasn’t in the house. The kid has a burn on her face from a piece burning curtains that landed on her.“

He paused but he didn’t sound finished. “They got Marty too. The kid might have been alright if he could have kept his smart mouth closed. We were almost to him when with one smart comeback and he was shot with no warning. Tom, Bo, and Laura are missing. We can’t find them anywhere. That’s one of the reasons that Matlock is so crazy. Becky has Jenny and we can’t find them either. You can add Dante’, Jim, and Jack to the list of the missing as well.”

“Oh God," I moaned. "But you might be able to take Dante’ and Jack off the list of missing, I saw Jack right after Waleski brought in Patricia. He said he and Dante’ were going to cover the rear gate area.”

“OK. Jim may be with the Morris families or hooked up with someone else. Or even off fighting on his own. I won’t count him down just yet. He’s tough as old shoe leather.”

“That’s … that’s six confirmed dead from our group,” I said beginning to shake all over again.

“Yeah, and if you’ve been in the house you see that’s only part of our problem. Waleski can’t believe it but he doesn’t think James has actually broken anything. He may have a cracked rib or two but mostly he is just had the wind knocked out of him and is badly bruised. Probably a concussion as well which is the worst of it next to a long gash on his scalp.”

“You’d be so proud of your son. Even as hurt as he was he still managed to save me.”

“I AM proud of him. Damn but we must’ve done something right. He stayed at his post when the rest of us got caught by the diversion. Then he gave us a warning and managed to inflict a pretty heavy toll on the group that was coming over the Wall in front.”

“What can we do from here on? I want to check on the kids but at the same time I just don’t feel right about not trying to locate the missing. They could be hurt.”

“One thing at a time Babe. Matlock and Dix are professionals and they’ve been trained in street fighting. Dix has all that experience from the Middle East. Matlock and McElroy are the same. The best we can do for them is to stay out of their way.”

“But … “

“But me no buts, Babe. However, if you promise not to run off and leave me wondering where you are we’ll head back towards the Morris house and see if they need any help. But I want to do it by way of our house to see if any more made the rendezvous.”

Once I understood the plan and had something I could focus on I did better. A quick detour to the house revealed that Jim had had Becky and the kids under his wing since the first explosion. They had been pinned down on the other side of the street by gunfire coming from what had started to appear a totally separate group.

Jim explained, “You shoulda seen the mess we just saw mate. Another tic of the clock and I figure things are going to get more interesting than we can stand. That group at the front and the group at the back ain’t friends from what I can see. They shoot at each other as much as they shoot at us. We got caught between a group from each side. It took a while but they finally lost interest in us and got cheesed off with each other. Now they’ve got a real argy bargy going.”

Scott look like he had lost what Jim was saying. Doing my wifely duty I translated. Scott gave me the exasperated husband look and said, “I know what he said Sissy, geez. I’m just having a hard time believing it.”

Jim laughed, “Believe it mate. We could put the billy on and sit back and let ‘em tear each other’s arses up. Would make for quite a show. Aw hell though, where’s the fun in that? I’d best go see how the Viking is doing. Take ‘em a beer and calm him down some. He looks like he’s about to blow.”

Jim wasn’t kidding either. Angus did look like he was about to go off like Mt. Vesuvius. Scott went with Jim and I went to check on Waleski. He’d looked like he was just about ready to blow too.

I found him with Patricia and Rhonda. The room was dark so it was hard to make out their expressions. I cleared my throat and Patricia answered with a weak smile. “I’m OK. No labor so far but this man is turning out to be a bigger mother hen than you are Sissy. Tell him to go fuss over someone else for awhile.”

I walked in and asked both women, “You two OK?”

This time it was Rhonda who answered me but most of her old spark was gone. “I am. Patricia says she is. Have you seen … “

“Dammit. Sissy I don’t want them upset. They need to stay quiet and still for a while.”

“Easy Waleski. They’ll be better off for a little news. I’ve had five of my own and it’s the stuff you don’t know that causes more anxiety than the stuff you do.” Turning and facing them both I told them, “As far as I know both men are OK. Jack is at the rear gate and McElroy is up near the front gate. Both men are doing their job and wouldn’t want you two to worry. I know that sounds stupid. I’ve felt the same thing when Scott has said it to me. But just take it easy and trust they know what they’re doing.”

After a little more chitter chatter I walked out of the room with Waleski. “How are you holding up? Are there any supplies or anything else you need?”

Waleski at his most charming answered, “I need about 10 years of medical school and six more personnel to help me. You got that handy?”

A quiet voice from behind me said, “’Ski, why don’t you take a break. The girls and I can handle it for a second. Go wash your face if nothing else.”

And Waleski actually went. I couldn’t believe it. Rilla gave me a tired smile. “He doesn’t mean it half the time you know. He’s just under a lot of stress.”

I smiled thinking that love blossoms at the darkest of times. “I know he doesn’t mean it and it doesn’t bother me. How’s Ty, he wasn’t looking good last time I was in here.”

“He’s fine thank God. That big man, the one they call Samson, jerked him out of my arms and threw him against the house. My two year old baby. What kind of rabid animal does that? You can guess what the bastard wanted from me. Grandad got hurt trying to save us. Aunt Reba unloaded a shotgun into the two guys that were with Samson and the cowardly pile of dung run off. Aunt Reba and I got Grandad and Ty over here as quick as we could. ‘Ski had to … he had to cut off Grandad’s thumb and pointer on his left hand. He lost a lot of blood but there wasn’t any help for it. Those evil monsters shot the ends of them off.”

“Oh no. Oh Rilla … “

“No don’t. We’re all alive and that’s more than some can say. We finally got Clay’s head to stop bleeding and Callie is holding up better than I ever thought. Everyone else is hold up back at the house and picking off any raiders that come in the back area. You wanna see James?”

“Yes, please! Which room is he in.”

“He’s in his own bed and Bekah and the little boys are lying down in there too to keep an eye on him. He kept trying to get up and get back in the fight.”

“That sounds like his Daddy.”

“That sounds like his Daddy and his Momma,” Rilla said with a tired smile.

Oh James looked rough, but he’d finally decided to do as he was told and stay put. Probably because he was stiffening up and couldn’t move as quickly as he would have needed to. I left him resting though awake so that Bekah could check on him to make sure the concussion wasn’t more serious than expected. I gave him just enough information to satisfy him but not enough to get him wound back up. He could hear the constant sound of gunfire and explosions from outside. Scott came in right as I was thinking of a good exit strategy. Another minute and we both left him as Waleski came in to check him over once again.

We had just stepped back out onto the carport and Scott was opening his mouth to say something when Angus, Jim, and Brandon began firing. They were giving cover to the Morris family who were coming in. Kevin and Betty were helping Clark along and J. Paul was carrying his cousin Claire who bounced limply in his arms.

Kevin gasped, “They’re going crazy out there. Shooting at each other, fighting amongst themselves, it's every man for himself, and we’ve got a small horde – maybe three dozen zombies – at the back gate that are going to be inside in short order.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 8

Scott and I just looked at each other. What was there to say? All of the racket was bound to draw out the remaining stragglers left over from the Big Horde. It wouldn’t be luck to not have zombies, it would be a blazing miracle. The luck was that there were no Ragers or any other of the bizarre types of zombies in with the ones that had shown up.

Angus and Jim joined us for a quick conference. With the majority of our people now in our house we thought it a good time to pull in the welcome mat and lock it down. If the enemy had discovered that most of our people were in a single building things could have gotten nasty fast. Fortuitously they didn't appear that smart ... although later we found out that they wanted the women and children alive for slave labor and, well, other things.

Brandon, Kevin, and J. Paul became lead defenders for the location. Everyone else in the house that was mobile made weapons and ammo handy just in case more help was needed. James talked someone into moving him to the front room where we had cut a gun slot in one of the shutters. Patricia and Rhonda, as well as the youngest kids, were moved back into our storm room. We dropped the roll-down door on the front and then exited through the pantry and into the carport. The security door into to the house from that entrance was dropped and locked.

None of the men were exactly excited about me coming with them but each one had run into my stubborn streak enough to know that it would have been a waste of time and energy to try and talk me out of it. Jim and Angus wished Scott luck and gave him the male version of “better you than me fella” while I handed them some carb bars, jerky, and a couple of water cubes. After they stowed the energy food they went out separately on their own search and destroy mission.

I hefted the backpack I had stuffed with similar energy foods like I had given to Angus and Jim and waited for Scott’s next move.

“You ready?” he asked.

“I’m following your lead,” I answered.

We decided against going to the front gate area, at least for now, as it sounded like things were heating up with more automatic gun fire. That was our military guys. And it didn’t sound like it too Angus or Jim long to find some trouble of their own to get into. We took the zombies as our priority. We knew how to eradicate zombies and if we did that then it would leave the others free to do what they were best at.

Scott had his AK47 and I had my little .22 and the safeties were off. Naturally Scott would be able to do much more damage with his rifle than I would with mine, but I simply hadn’t gotten the hang of staying on my feet when shooting the weapons with heavier recoils. Everyone had tried to teach me but more often than not I still wound up on my backside. No one could figure out what I was doing wrong because if I had someone bracing me from behind I was just fine, even if all they did was to put their hand on my shoulder. It was James who said I was shifting my center of gravity too much at the last second. I still haven’t figured out how to lean into the shot rather than away from it without wrecking my shoulder or overcompensating. On my face or on my butt, neither one was the position you were supposed to find yourself in after shooting a gun. So until I do figure it out its safer for me, and anyone in the general vicinity, if I just stick to the .22 and/or the Mark III.

We avoided the main road and just went behind the hospital and then through the line of trees we had left to stand as a wind break and shade lot. Just on the other side of the trees was the line of houses that faced the east fence and the rear gate. Scott moaned in pain and I completely understood. All the work we’ve been doing over the last couple of months to preserve living quarters and storage houses has been undone. Windows are shattered, doors have been kicked in, the block walls of the homes have multiple chips and chunks taken out of them all over. At the time we didn’t know what the inside damage was but it has turned out to be extensive. And after all the damage the Big Horde had done to the immediate area surrounding Sanctuary we’d have to go much further afield to find replacement parts for everything. Scott sighed deeply and I could tell he was furious but putting it aside for something to deal with later.

Kevin had been right. It didn’t take the zombies long to start breaching the rear gate. The gate itself didn’t look damaged but the bar had been removed and the locking chains lay on the ground.

“Someone opened the gate and then didn’t close it behind them. Idiots,” Scott growled.

I wasn’t too happy myself. A terrified shriek rent the air and we turned just in time to see a raider being used as a teething toy by a small zombified woman. Since we were so close and it was a shot I could definitely make I used the .22 to put the man and the zombie down permanently. We had been spotted by several zombies and we needed to get to high ground and we need to get there right away.

A piercing whistle drew our attention up to the top of the rear gate tower. Dante’ was making come on motions with his hand. Someone, turned out to be Jack, lowered the tower ladder just long enough for us to run over and climb up rung-by-rung until we reached the top. Four adults in the space was a tight fit but Scott and I didn’t intend on staying any longer than we had to.

The men were low on ammo so Scott shared what he brought while I handed out some food and drink. I don’t know which they were happier to see.

Both men had suffered from a few close calls judging by their disheveled appearance and a little blood seeping through makeshift bandages here and there. After a quick sip of water Dante’ wanted to know if we had seen his family. I told him Laura and Bo were at the house but none of us could remember seeing Tina. Dante’ looked bleak and shaken at hearing that but he kept holding on to hope. I told Jack that Patricia was still OK. I did what I could to make sure that no one was going to bleed to death or suffering from an infection and made a mental note that we had been remiss not to require every adult and child in Sanctuary to have gotten more first aid education. We were going to have to do more cross-training and it couldnt' wait.

Another scream alerted us to the fact that the raiders didn’t have any more luck dealing with zombies than we did.

Dante’ said, “We’ve been pinned down up here for a while now. We’ve done what we could but mostly we just harried the raiders and gave them a hard time. As long as the zombies weren’t bothering any of our people we’ve left them alone. The infected created a bunch of panic in this group at the rear gate when they showed up. Sissy, you got any painkillers on you … aspirin, Tylenol, something like that? I don’t want to lose my edge but my leg is really thumping.”

While I dug around in my emergency pack for the bottle of Tylenol 3 Jack added, “Yeah, and I’m almost positive they aren’t part of the enemy group at the front gate. See, look at those two over there going at it. The guy wearing colors is from the group that came in through the rear gate and reminds me of the gangs in Miami. The guy without colors is from the group at the front gate. They go at each other every chance they get, like rival dog packs. If they started out with a truce, it’s long over with.”

I halved one of the Tylenol 3 tablets and gave it to Dante’ and then wrapped the other half in a bit of plastic wrap. “This stuff has codeine in it. See if half a tablet cuts the pain before taking the other half. The last thing you need to be is up here shooting a gun and woozy. But you’re so tall it may take the whole tablet to do you any good.”

Scott and I figured that this was as good a time as any to try and work our way around to the other side of the compound now that we new Jack and Dante’ had enough ammo to keep most of the zombies from getting into the compound. I thought using them as a limited assault weapon was pretty ingenious. Scott was more conservative and said it was more like the love/hate relationship that most countries had with weapons of mass destruction. The fact that we were willing to use the zombies like that and even let a few into the compound only highlighted how badly off we were.

I couldn’t argue with him and didn’t even try. Soon after that we took a chance and came down the ladder even faster than we went up. My 40-something body, despite being in better shape than I’ve been in since I was a teenager, was starting to complain … loudly. The last two weeks of stress and illness was also telling on me.

Scott must have noticed because we didn’t get very far onto the south side of the compound before he pulled us into the shrubbery and trees that made up the SE corner. He put me against the Wall and him between me and the rest of the compound. “Sissy, are you sure you are up for this? You’re getting a little gray around the edges.”

Thinking to brush his concern aside I said, “Hey, I come by these gray hairs honestly.”

“Sissy, I’m not joking,” he said looking me straight in the face.

I sighed. “Scott, I’m 42. I’m not some young chippie that has spent all of her time at the fitness center counting carbs and doing pilates. Yeah, I’m ‘feeling the burn.’ But I’m OK. Just don’t take off like a jack rabbit and I’ll be able to keep up.”

Scott didn’t look entirely convinced but conceded that it was a little late for second thoughts. Scott and I both nearly had a stroke when a caramel colored fuzz ball stood up and put its paws on our shoulders.

“Dammit Sundance,” Scott fussed while trying to avoid having his face licked off. All I could think was that I hope he’d brushed his teeth since the last time he had eaten somebody. His coat was heavily flecked with dried blood but he had suffered no injuries himself.

Scott tried to brush the dog out of the way but he was so insistent that we finally noticed he was trying to herd us in a specific direction. Scott and I looked at each other and finally allowed the dog to lead us where he wanted us to go.

We wound up behind Dix’s house. The white Victorian had taken at least as much damage as all the other houses, maybe more. In the backyard were two men that had had their faces mauled pretty badly. They still twitched but death would visit them shortly and they would need to be sanitized. Scott wasn’t in the mood to wait. Death for them would have been inevitable anyway even with access to modern medicine. Their faces were ripped off and their abdomens punctured. Euthanasia was the best choice. Scott took a mallet and a heavy, metal awl off of his ever present tool belt. He placed the awl against each man’s forehead and hit it with the mallet, puncturing skull and destroying the brain beneath. The mallet and awl approach made it a little more personal but it did cut down on the noise that could attract the wrong people.

While Scott took care of the men, Sundance continued to be insistent that there was something under the porch that we needed to see. I absolutely hate going into crawl spaces. You never know what you are going to find but the dog wouldn’t stop. I crawled over to the lattice work that was supposed to keep most of the bigger varmints out from under the house. And then I saw her.

She was only half clothed and the physical trauma that I could see made it obvious she had been assaulted.

“Scott, I need a blanket or something out of the house. Curtains, anything like that.”

“What? Oh my God. Who is it?”

“Tina. Just go please. I think she’s in shock and we’ve got to get her over to Waleski.”

Tina’s eyes were open but she was pretty unresponsive to all my overtures. Scott and I wrapped her up in a tablecloth the best we could and then tried to figure out how we were going to cross the road.

“Aw shit!”

Scott and I both turned while Tina whimpered. “Dammit Dix don’t do that! I could have shot you man!”

“How bad is she?”

Why everyone was looking at me I didn’t know. “Well for pete’s sake how do you think she is you blonde ape?! God, Dix that’s a stupid question,” I snarled.

“Sorry," he said slightly abashed. "Matlock should be here any … “

Matlock came out of the bushes at that moment looking like he’d been play Rambo complete with a soaked bandana wrapped around his hair and bulging biceps. I glared at him, daring him to ask the same stupid question Dix had just asked.

“You seen my kids and Becky?” he asked a bit desperately.

“Yeah, they’re in the house with everyone else. Tina was the last person unaccounted for.”

Matlock nearly fell down in relief. “OK. Cease and David are just about to set off the last of the charges. It’s going to be a huge explosion. We’ve interrogated a few of the enemy and have found out all we can.” His use of the word interrogation was accompanied by dead eyes and clinched fists. I didn’t say anything at the time I knew Scott and I would talk about it later. Matlock did what he thought needed doing at the time. For my part it’s not something I’d want to be a part of over the long haul. I know Scott’s view was more practical and prosaic and consequently made me even happier to let the subject drop.

While Matlock grabbed something to drink Dix explained, “They placed the charges in the pirate’s remaining operational vehicles and around that Dumas building. That’s where their leaders are holed up. The only one we can’t locate is that big shit they call Samson. Sissy can you take care of Tina over here? We’ve got to get into position and there isn’t time to get her over to your house.”

I looked at Scott and he looked at me. We silently agreed at the same time, reaching out to grab the other in a tight embrace and kiss. He touched my face and then they were gone and I was left alone with Tina trying to figure out our best course of action. I looked for Sundance but he’d left to keep hunting after delivering his ward into our care.

Just then the largest explosion I hope to ever be near ripped through the late afternoon sky.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 9

I was thinking, ”Thanks for the freaking understatement, Dix” as I laid over Tina’s upper body trying to protect her. To me it sounded like a dozen transformers blowing all at the same time but I could also hear smaller explosions within the main explosion. I was afraid to even think what things must look like out along the front of the Wall on US41. The road had to be shot. I didn’t even know how much of the Wall still stood.

It was like the explosion had sucked all of the sound out of the world. I stayed down because I was afraid that debris would start hitting the ground but if it did it didn't come down where we were at. I said to myself, “It’s now or never girl. Get your butt up and get going.”

Temporarily leaving Tina, I ran around to the front of the house and peaked out. Looking towards the NW, the remnants of what had to have been a large fireball was still visible though it was nothing more than a rolling mushroom shape by the time I laid eyes on it. I realized that since I could see that smoke cloud that the smoke from the burning tires had gradually faded away. That had to be a good thing.

The road was free and clear of any enemy which I considered another good thing. I ran back around and had just bent down to try and get Tina somewhat upright so I could drag her to the house when a powerful slap up side my head sent me reeling.

I have to say I haven’t been clocked like that since I was in highschool. We were stuck in the gym one rainy PE class and I had walked too close to some kids who were showing off their prowess on the uneven bars and got clipped by a tennis shoe clad foot. I didn’t pass out then and I didn’t pass out this time either but my bell sure was rung pretty hard.

The earring had been ripped from my ear and my balance was gone. As I staggered trying to keep to my feet I caught a glimpse of another slap coming my way and was just able to dodge so that I only got a piece of it. The force still put me on the ground looking up into a face that could have been a model for a Renaissance painting of a demon from hell. I could see where the man had been handsome early in life but dissipation and inner character had written their tale across his features leaving a devilish countenance behind. No woman in her right mind would have done anything other than run in the opposite direction after one glimpse.

He reached down and pulled me up by the front of my shirt. “A little old for my taste but you’ll do in a pinch.”

Bastard. Like I told Scott I earned my fine lines and gray hairs. I started fighting back and he shook me like a rag doll. “Like it rough do you bitch. This oughta be fun.”

OK, I knew that my life was on the line and while in most circumstances rape wouldn’t kill me, rape by this monster just might. My feet were clear off the ground and I was punching and kicking him with all I had. I got lucky and the punch I had meant for his nose actually landed my thumb in his eye. Boy did he squall at that. He tossed me against the house and I landed hard on my side, knocking the wind from me.

After calling me more than a few unflattering female epitaphs he said, “Oh how you’re gonna pay for that.”

Oh no I wasn’t. The fall had ripped open the strap that held the machete in its sheath and the thing practically popped into the hand I was laying on. I took the blessing as it was offered and raised it to defend myself. I had only meant to scramble to the side as he came at me but and I tripped over an exposed tree root. Down I went and the machete with me. It left a neat and deep slice right along his groin area.

I had the presence of mind to scramble away as he grabbed his crotch. “You bitch! You bitch! You cut me!”

Blood was pouring through his hands and was running down legs. I had hit the femoral artery without even trying. I must have sliced it clean in two because he bled to death in a matter of seconds.

I was shaking and wanted Scott so bad I nearly screamed his name and damned the consequences. But at the same time I knew I needed to pull myself together before he saw me or his pain would wind up being worse than mine.

Tina had started sobbing; great, huge, gasping convulsions. That gave me something to focus on. I ran over to her and she grabbed me tight enough to squeeze the air from my already sore chest. I got one arm out of her grip and put it around her shoulders. By the time I got her up and moving she had calmed down enough to help me get her first to the side of the house and then after a pause to the front of the house. They must have seen us through the shutters because Kevin and Waleski were standing ready to help me with Tina while Brandon kept us covered.

All five of us hustled into the house with Brandon stopping only long enough to put the security door back down.

I was going to help Waleski with Tina until he pushed me in a chair and told me to stay put. He, Rose, and Melody took her into the girls’ bedroom. A moment later Waleski came out looking stricken and angry at the same time. He looked like he was going to explode. Betty, a bandage on her ankle and around her head, came to him and put her arm around him. “It’s OK honey. Let us women take this one. Reba and I used to volunteer at the women’s center. We know what to do.”

She pushed him in my direction where Rilla was already putting disinfectant on my ear.

“What the hell happened?!” he asked in a barely controlled, volcanic voice.

“I don’t know Tina’s details but I just had a blonde mountain fall on me.”

“Sissy you look like …. Geez … you look like Scott is going to go into cardiac arrest as soon as he sees you.”

“That good huh?”

“Sissy, I’m not kidding,” his voice had moderated down into one of professional concern.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be fine. The guy’s dead, I’m not, God’s good, end of story and I’d rather not talk about it anymore if you don’t mind.”

I could tell he didn’t want to let it go but he did, though I knew I could probably expect to have to tell the full story at some point. All I was hoping at the time was that I had time to come up with something close enough to the truth that Scott would believe me without feeling the need to go kill the guy all over again.

At that second I registered my mistake. Oh crap. He was dead but he wasn’t sanitized.

“Oh God. Let me out. I’ve got to go!” I grabbed my gear and ran to the pantry.

“Sissy, stop! I need to check out your face!!”

I rolled up the side door just enough to crawl underneath it and yelled at Brandon to shut it behind me. I could not believe how impossibly stupid I had just been.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 10

I figured I had minutes at most before Blondie reanimated. If he had reanimated already I didn’t have that long to kill him permanently dead.

As luck would have it I was too late. The sand was saturated with blood that hadn’t even had time to congeal but he was already gone.

I looked in all directions and then thought to stop and really listen. To my left, I heard something going east crashing and thrashing through the bushes. It sure was making a lot of noise for something that had just comeback. That was sooo not good.

Rifle in hand and ready, I set off to track him as quietly as I could. I gave up quiet in favor of quick when I heard shouts of “Rager!” and screams of “Holy Mother of God! Help me!!” I came into a clear space that measured about twenty by twenty. On the far side was Blondie ripping not one or two, but three full grown men to shreds.

I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid. Why did it have to turn out to be a Rager?! It gave credence to the unproven argument that only certain types of people or people with certain personality types could turn into ragers. I didn’t have time to play amateur biologist however. Leaning against a tree to brace myself I was about to take my shot when four of the color-clad raiders ran into the clearing with guns blazing.

Where did these guys learn to fight?! Not a one of them made a headshot. All they did was manage to wind the Rager up even more. At least they had the sense to run. What’s the old joke about the two guys running from the bear? One didn’t have to run faster than the bear, he just had to fun faster than the other guy. The same thing is true of Ragers. You don’t really have to be faster than the Rager, you just have to be faster than the slowest person running from the Rager.

Three of the four gang-colored raiders escaped. The fourth was the slowest and distracted the Rager just enough. I’d seen what a Rager was capable of. Unfortunately for me I got to see it up close and personal this time. It was ripping the still living man's chest cavity open to get to the soft tissue inside.

I must have been out of my mind because I took that moment and stepped behind the Rager, put the Mark III to the back of his head that was buried deep in the guys stomach slurping intestines like spaghetti, and started pulling the trigger. I didn’t stop pulling the trigger until all ten bullets in the magazine were rattling around in its skull and it's body had stopped twitching. For good measure I took my machete and decapitated it.

All I could do was stand there breathing heavy. Then it hit me. I ran back to the tree and started puking. Actually it was more like uncontrollable heaving. I hadn’t had much to eat at all the whole day and there wasn't anything to bring up. I hate puking. I always feel like someone is trying to strangle me. There's not much scarier than trying and not being able to draw breath because your throat is locked in battle with your stomach.

I heard the dry oak leaves crackling and I turned swiftly to put my back to the tree. ‘Course I hadn’t gotten around to reloading the Mark III which left me gripping the machete for dear life.

“Damn Sissy. “ It was Angus. He was banged up, bruised and blood splattered but smiling like a lunatic.

“What the heck are you smiling at?!” I asked incredulously.

“Just wondering how Scott’s kept his head all these years.”

“By being smart enough not to irritate me past my endurance you …,” and that’s when I caught a glimpse of the strangers behind him; two women and six kids.

“Angus?” I aked a lot less beligerantly.

He got very serious and introduced me to the two young women. “Sissy, this is Cindy this other girl is Tasha. That’s all the information they were willing to share. The kids won’t tell me their names at all. They were being held in a house over behind the Dumas building. They won’t say much but I’m guessing they weren’t there because they wanted to be.”

“You killed Samson,” the one called Cindy said in wonder, staring at the now permanently dead corpse.

“I killed who?”

The one called Tasha said, “Samson, the Captain of the pirates. He was the leader and the biggest … I can’t believe he’s dead. I can’t believe … “

I looked at Angus suddenly nervous. “Please tell me that’s a good thing.”

Cindy, who’d pulled herself together and put an arm around Tasha said, “Yes. That’s a very, very good thing. That man was a … There’s not really words for what that … that … “ She cleared her throat and continued. “He was criminally insane by any definition you want to pick. Even his top lieutenants were deathly afraid of him. The things he did … they aren’t fit to repeat. You put his head on a pike for the pirates to see and they’ll run like rabbits thinking you’ve got someone even worse than him on your side.”

“Hmmm. Think I’ll just go ahead and try that,” and Angus grabbed the disembodied head and carted it off at a run towards the front gate.

We all stared after him as he jogged away. I don’t think I’ll ever get the picture he made out of my mind.

Tasha asked, “Is he crazy too?”

At a loss how best to answer I replied, “It’s been suggested.”

Then I said, “Look we need to get out of here. If things weren’t settling down Angus wouldn’t have left us. But things aren’t completely … Oof!”

Mischief and Mayhem had come in behind me and nearly knocked me down. “Oh, he left you two as babysitters did he?” Both dogs grinned in doggie fashion and tried to herd us into a group but the kids were terrified of them.

“Easy. These dogs are fierce but they’re French Mastiffs. They’re just trying to get us into a better group so they can guard us against the bad guys. They really don’t like people that hurt little kids. It’s OK, let them sniff you. They may rub up against you and lick you, just try and ignore the doggie breath. It’s how they say hello.”

The kids all bundled together between Cindy and Tasha still shy of the big dogs. For that matter Cindy and Tasha were nervous but too weak to put up much of a fight. The dogs and I led the group up the south fence and across the street to our house. Waleski stepped out into the carport and said, “Wait." when I would have taken them inside. "Sissy, don’t look at me like that. We don’t know where these people have been or what they’ve been exposed to.”

I put my hands on my hips and was about to let fly when Cindy said, “He’s right you know. We all have fleas and at least two of the children have ring worms. There’s no telling what Tasha and I have from being exposed to … being with …”

Waleski finally said, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t treat you but under the circumstances I am going to quarantine you until I can clear you of anything infectious.”

Another burst of gunfire from near the front gate had the children whimpering and most of us adults ducking. I left Waleski to do what he thought best.

I stopped for a moment to reload the magazine for the Mark III and to make sure the rifle was still OK. I was debating whether to go to the front or to the back when Jack jogged up.

“Those gang bangers are all dead. Even if a few of them survived the zombies they’ve taken off by now. Dante’ and I have put bullets in all the heads of the ones we’ve seen and taken down most of the zombies that were still outside the gate. It’s closed, barred, and locked. I need some help. Dante’ is going crazy. Have you found Tina yet?”

I looked at him and wasn’t sure what to say, “We found her. The women are taking care of her now.”

“The women … holy … you don’t mean … Dante’ ain’t gonna take this well. How am I supposed to tell him?”

“I’ll tell him. Is he still up in the tower?”

“No, I hauled him down so we could shut the gate. It’s a little bent and off track so it took both of us to slide it. We did what we could and needed to get more ammo. He’s coming this way. Is Patricia ... ?”

“She’s inside but ask Waleski before you go in. I’m not sure if he has her on bedrest or not.” With that I went to intercept Dante’ and try and tell him as gently as possible about Tina.

He didn’t take it well. He blamed the pirates, blamed God, blamed himself, blamed just about everyone and everything. He even cussed me a little for being the one who told him. Then he went and leaned against the house they shared and bawled his eyes out. “You think she will let me see her?”

“Dante’ I don’t know. All you can do is go try. If she wants to see you and you don’t come, even if it’s because you are afraid of upsetting her, she won’t understand.“

He headed for our house and I’ve yet to hear how it went exactly. All I do know is that when I did get around to stopping for the night she was curled up in his arms and he was rocking her as he crooned some Cajun lullaby.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Part 157 - 11

There isn’t much more to tell after that. Cindy hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the sight of Samson’s head on a pike would cause the remaining pirates to run like rabbits. Not that there were all that many left to run.

After leaving Dante’ at our front door I edged my way up to the front gate. I was half way there when Scott found me … and proceeded to have a major conniption fit. It’s not often that Scott shifts into Spanish but Lord have mercy, he wrung some creative cussing out of the language for the next little bit. From what little I could understand he was threatening to lock me in a tower someplace and throw away the key all the while questioning the antecedents of a good many of the enemy. He eventually had to stop and draw breath and that’s when I stepped into his arms. He was resistant for a couple of moments - the man does like to hold onto his mad when he gets going - but in the end he relented and we held onto each other for dear life.

He tilted my head back and looked at my face, then gently ran his finger along my eyebrows and kissed my forehead. I hadn’t looked at it yet at the time but I could feel how tight the right side of my face felt. I had a spreading bruise from just behind my jaw up to my cheek. My ear was also bruised and swollen. I think that hurt worse than anything else. The earrings I had been wearing were a pair that Scott had given me and after I had time to think about it I was upset at losing one of the mates. Johnnie and Bubby have promised to look for it but we’ll be keeping the kids no further away than our backyard until we can repair the Wall. The next day the bruise on the side of my face had spread to around my eye despite the fact I hadn’t been hit there.

By mutual, if unspoken, agreement we turned and made our way through all of the debris lying all around and towards the front gate. I asked him what to expect. He said, “Think along the lines of the Battle of Berlin at the end of WW2.” Oh.

The reality was even more stark than I had expected. The road was cratered and littered with rubble from all the explosions set off by David and Cease. Burned out shells of vehicles were tossed around like matchbox cars that had been forgotten to be put away. Trees were down in both directions on US41 and broken glass lay everywhere twinkling in the rays of the setting sun. I'm surprised we didn't have to deal with fires until Scott told me that Cease and David both had some experience with explosives. I'm not sure I really want to know where two such young men got that kind of experience.

Amazingly the Wall was more or less intact. The wooden telephone poles along the west and north facing fence sections had taken the brunt of the damage, preventing the metal storage containers behind from being destroyed. There were only two places of immediate concern. The NW corner where the explosion of Hank and Trish’s house had pushed the containers out and out of line leaving a small gap; and the front gate itself which was bent and mangled beyond repair.

Scott looked over to the south seeing Samson’s head on a pike for the first time. “What the hell?”

A sober Matlock had come up beside us and said, “Thank your wife. From what I understand that was the leader of the pirates who they all believed was magically protected by Satan.”

All I could do was cringe as I tried to explain what had happened. When I was finished I was sure that Scott was going to have a nuclear meltdown. But instead what I got was … “If you ever … “ Cough. “if you ever … “ Wheeze. “I swear to God woman … “ Another, deeper wheeze.

“Yes dear,” was my only reply and I snuggled up under his arm and tried to look like a contrite and obedient wife.

Matlock was looking everywhere but at me and I could see he was struggling not to laugh. I quickly changed the subject, both to avoid any more lectures and to prevent Matlock’s bizarre sense of humor setting Scott off again. “Where’s Dix?”

That sobered Matlock up real fast. “He’s off in the orange grove.”

“Why?”

“He’s burying Rachel. “

I didn’t know what to say to make it better but did ask, “Is there anyone with him?”

“David and Cease helped him dig the grave. They’re over there digging all four graves while there is still light.”

“Four graves?! You found Hank and Trish?” I asked excited about the thought of two less dead.

“No. There wasn’t enough of either one of them to … We can’t tell who all the parts belong to, the few that we've been able to find. We figure they wouldn’t mind being buried together. We’ll put Marty in with them. If we find anything else over the next few days we’ll dig another grave for it.”

The practicality of it made me shudder. There just wasn’t time for the niceties anymore. There was no funeral staff to take care of the less pleasant aspects of death. Usually bodies of the dead had to be sanitized in some way and without embalming services they had to be buried before they began to rot. The people you cared about went into the ground or were cremated as quickly as possible. It was bad enough you had lost them; you didn’t want to watch their body decay before your eyes as well.

We could hardly muster a proper guard and we’ve had the occasional shambler try and walk through the barbed wire we’ve woven across where the front gate used to be. We discovered our numbers shorted by one more when we woke up this morning. Angus has gone leaving Juicer and the dogs for us to care for until his return. He didn’t say where he was going but I have a feeling the pirates had better never stop looking over their shoulders. David told me the look on Angus’ face when he shoved Samson’s head on a pike and carried it to the top of the pole was straight out of his Ancient European History textbook. It was even worse when he was telling Matlock how the pirates had verbally taunted him with what they were going to do with the women and children he had been protecting. He’s not a man to forget a threat like that.

Others wanted to go as well after they found out Angus had left on his own but it wasn’t practical. A man on his own can move fast and sneak up on his enemy before they even know he’s there. A group on the other hand would raise more suspicion and lose the element of surprise. Besides, all able bodied hands are needed to try and repair or protect what we could before the next rain or cold snap hits.

As much work as there is to do, we’ve also had to take turns helping Waleski. Rose and Melody are both on the ragged edge of exhaustion. Waleski looks like he’ll fall apart if someone looks at him the wrong way. Rilla is helping him but he and he alone is still the one that has to make all the major medical decision. We're going to be feeling Rachel's loss for some time to come, in many ways.

Patricia is spotting every time she tries to get up and move. Not bad but any spotting at her stage in pregnancy isn’t good. Rhonda has been violently ill for the last 24 hours. She said it was the same during her first trimester when she was stressed out but Waleski has quarantined her just in case its viral, or God-forbid, bacterial.

James is a mess. He’s weak and has slept nearly the last 24 hours around the clock, waking only long enough to eat some of the soup I’ve kept simmering in my largest soup cauldron over an open fire so that anyone that is hungry can just dip their own out. Waleski thinks it’s just his body’s way of trying to heal after he refused to give into it the day before. Scott and I sit with him every break we have.

They cleaned Josephine’s eyes out but they’ll stay bandaged for at least a week before Waleski dare tries to detect any damage. She’s terrified she’s been blinded for life and for an artist the very idea is particularly traumatizing. She’s becoming silent and withdrawn, sleeping most of the time. The only person she consistently reponds to is Brandon when he is around.

Maddie hasn’t spoken any more than necessary since she’s been brought in. Waleski has kept her sedated as much as possible due to the pain she is experiencing from the burn on her face. They’ve even had to restrain her hands because she kept pulling at the bandages even in her sleep. Waleski says he thinks the itching is a good thing, a sign of healing, but the burns are worse than anything he has any direct experience with.

Tina started running a fever during the first night. Waleski is pulling his hair out trying to develop some type of effective treatment plan but he just doesn’t know what the problem is. He is treating her with antibiotics in the hopes of heading off any systemic infection or STD. The rest of it, the trauma, is being taken care of by Betty who spent a number of years as a counselor at a county-run women’s shelter.

Cindy, Tasha, and the kids are content to stay quarantined in the hospital building. They’ve taken on the job of cleaning it up and Waleski has done everything he can to make them comfortable until he can clear them. The fleas have been treated with daily baths and hydrocortisone on the rash. The ringworm is being treated with an antifungal and topical applications of tea tree oil. All eight in quarantine are taking iron supplements and drinking a strong beef tea with every meal. They are pathetically thin and malnourished.

The rest of us are walking wounded whether are wounds are physical or mental. We do as much as we can and then sit down and rest. When we’ve caught our breath we get up and start working again. We don’t have any choice.

I surveyed the damage to our gardens and could do nothing but weep off and on for nearly an hour. I won’t have to start from absolute scratch but I’m not sure how many of the items that had already been planted will survive. I finally convinced Scott to take me to a few of the fruit trees outside of the Wall. I almost wished I hadn’t. What the zombies didn’t destroy the raiders and pirates ate or destroyed. Our food storehouse wasn't raided but some of the items were destroyed when bullets when through windows. We'll need everything we can salvage.

We have to strain all of our potable water that wasn’t completely sealed. I was drawing a pitcher of water from the bottom tap of the barrel nearest the kitchen when I noticed small glass particles sinking to the bottom like ice. That's just one of a million small things we've got to be careful and not allow to slip passed us.

I haven’t even begun to touch on the psychological effects of the Raid on Sanctuary. I’ve noticed some very peculiar behaviors by some of our people already. Everyone jumps way too easily. Tempers are uncertain though when there is an outburst it doesn’t appear to be directed at anyone in particular. Dix is ... it’s hard to describe what Dix is. He reminds me of a snow topped mountain. The wrong sound and an avalanche could occur obliterating anything in its path.

The older kids get really mad if the younger kids forget and leave their sight. Samuel and Sarah in particular seem to be suffering from this. I finally had to step in and calm them down. They are constantly counting all the children like shepherds with their sheep.

Speaking of animals J. Paul reports that all the animals are accounted for and ironically they were left unmolested though the cows and nannies aren't giving near as much milk as they should. They were stressed by all the fighting. And we have had to walk the pasture to make sure no debris is in there that can hurt them.

I’m exhausted and my shift of watching over the injured is drawing to a close. It will be a relief to lay my body down beside Scott's and try to get some rest. Tomorrow, if I’m able, I’ll recount what we learned from Matlock’s “interrogations” and from the two women we’ve taken in.