Deadfall
Survivors
Richard Flunker
Copyright © 2012 by Richard Flunker
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published in the United States of America
First Publishing, 2012
ASIN : B00ASHPYEW
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A special thank you to Susan McSherry of Top Shelf Editing and Publishing.
To my survivors at home
Table of Contents
Entry 1
Entry 2 - Details
Entry 3
Entry 4
Entry 5 – Macaroni and Cheese
Entry 6 – Lots of Them
Entry 7
Entry 8 - People
Entry 9 – Winging It
Entry 10 – Morning
Entry 11 – Evening
Entry 12 – Morning and aBomb
Entry 13 – Sometime After Lunch
Entry 14 – Mid Afternoon
Entry 15 – Not Going Home
Entry 16 – Evening
Entry 17 – Spring Drive
Entry 18 – Morning
Entry 19 – Nobody
Entry 20 – Three Days Later
Aaron and Lucy.
Evan
Tague
Dawn
Entry 21 – How We Got From There to Here. Who We Found.
Entry 22 – Night of the Walking Dead
Entry 23 – Up We Go. 15 Days Since I Started Writing.
Entry 24 – The Hike
Entry 25 – Actually, Day 16, at Night.
Entry 26 – The Grand Tour.
Entry 27 – Food Stores
Entry 28 – No Toilet Paper
Heather Entry 1
Entry 29 – Choices
Tague 1st Entry
Entry 30 – Guns
Tague 2nd Entry
Dawn 1st Entry
Entry 31 – People
Entry 32 – Recording
Entry 33 – Others
Entry 34 – Uncertainties
Entry 35 – Cold Mountain
Entry 36 – Close Encounter of the Cult Kind
Entry 37 – Lessons in Engineering (trying to build stuff)
Entry 38 – My Father
Entry 39 – A New Car and an Old Story
Entry 40 – Plans
Entry 42 – Tired
Entry 43 – Out
Entry 44 – Tower City of Pittsboro
Entry 45 – Each little fiefdom
Entry 46 – Maxie
Entry 47 – A Grave
Entry 48 – A boat
Entry 49 – In the Navy
Entry 50 – Possibilities
Battle of Carolina Beach
Entry 51 – I hate goodbyes
First Entry – Evan Hollister
From the Journal of Brian Orbison
American History after Deadfall
Volume 3
Survivors
Professor Jonathan Gault
University of the Lakes
Entry 1[1]
Today I saw two bears.
Yes, this is a big deal for me. You see, I have been hiking these mountains since I was a kid, and my father first introduced me to my passion. In those twenty eight years (I’m thirty two now) and the thousands of miles I have hiked up and down these Blue Ridge Mountains, I have only seen one bear, and that one was locked up at Grandfather Mountain in their display.
I have seen traces of bears; the gnawed on trees, the poop and the wrecked garbage cans, but I had yet to see one. I saw a couple while hiking out in Wyoming, and a couple of times on fishing trips in the Boundary Waters in Minnesota; but never here in my own backyard.
Plenty of others had seen bears. My father certainly had. Other hiking buddies had. But never me; not by myself, and not with anyone else.
So the biggest reason I’m finally getting on the game and writing this journal and record of my life up here, is because of this momentous event in my life. It’s kind of ironic, considering everything else that has happened recently; but to me, being able to see bears here in my mountains, is quite a big deal. And to top it off, I saw two bears in the very same day.
I am taking a trail that starts near my current house, and leads down to the Blue Ridge Parkway, just south and east of the Mount Pisgah Inn. From there, I stay on the road through a few of the tunnels, and then take another trail that leads down south into Hendersonville. It should take me a few days to hike it, but the weather has been absolutely gorgeous lately, and, in all honesty, I am completely bored.
The first bear I saw was just after coming down off of Black Balsam Knob. The bald offers an amazing view towards the east. There are no trees on this bald; hence the name. But the trail dips down east off of the bald, and quickly enters a very thick brush. The trail turns into a vegetation tunnel. After about one mile, going mostly downhill, I crossed a stream, and began the trip back up the next mountain, when I went around a quick cutback and nearly ran right into the animal.
I have no idea who was scared more; the bear or me. I can really only tell you how I felt, and I was completely frantic. I dropped my hiking poles and high tailed it right back down the trail; back to the stream I had previously just crossed. It was, of course, the worst thing to do. I had some pepper spray with me, but I don’t think I thought about that little black container one time as I bounded down that trail. As far as I was concerned, that bear was going to tear my legs off of me.
When I reached the stream and crossed it, splashing water and mud in every direction, I slipped on something in the stream and that forced me to stop. At that point, I realized the bear was nowhere near me. It was, in fact, running away as fast as it could, off trail. By the time I had reached the stream, the bear was also at the stream, but easily five hundred feet downstream. I sat on the ground as I watched the bear bound out of sight, but kept hearing it crashing away long after I had lost sight of it.
My heart finally caught up to me a few minutes later.
I sat there for probably ten minutes, although I’m not sure as I never checked my watch. I know I just sipped from my water, just waiting for the adrenaline to come back down to normal levels, which would be zero. Nothing even remotely that crazy had happened in the past five months.
That all happened sometime in the late morning. I was off on the trail again by eleven that morning.
I saw the second bear later that afternoon, in far different conditions.
About six or so miles later, I came up over a ridge overlooking the campground site, just below the Pisgah Inn, when I saw the second bear. It was well far away, and I noticed it without my heart jumping clear out of my mouth. Nevertheless, I was excited because at least this time I would be able to observe this bear.
I dropped my pack, dug out my camera, set it aside and turned it on. I picked out the bigger lens to get a nice clear picture, and found a small branch to rest it on. I peered into my camera and watched the bear, as it wandered through the empty campground. At first I thought that maybe it was somehow trying to find some remaining scraps of food, but it kept clawing at something just behind a tree. As I kept clicking at the camera, the bear refused to move away from that location; at times stan
ding and swiping at whatever was behind my line of sight.
I picked up the camera and attempted to move to a better position in order to see what it was that the bear was trying to get at. It took some time, but I was finally able to get into the line of sight of the tall object the bear was interested in. Already, from this distance, I knew something was off. A deep sinking feeling filled my stomach; a warm sick feeling. I brought the camera up and I immediately saw just what was bothering the bear; the same thing that had been bothering me, along with the rest of mankind for the past nine months.
A zombie.
Entry 2 - Details[2]
I have a few things I think I need to make clear. First of all, I am really lazy when it comes to writing. I have terrible handwriting and it just bugs me. Before the world came to a halt, I used a computer almost exclusively, and now I have to write with my own hands; I get cramps and it’s just a pain. That is, in part, why it has taken me so long to get this thing started. I probably should have started months ago, but just the thought of writing on actual pieces of paper really kicked my procrastination into high gear.
That overall laziness affects my journal keeping, as well. I do know the date. Today is April 28th, 2017. It was actually two days ago that I saw my two bears and the dead person, almost always referred to as a zombie. I know that it says “Entry 2” on top, and maybe I should just change it to chapter two, or part two, or something like that, and that I should keep a detailed date on every single one of my entries, but, once again, I must admit I’m kind of lazy that way. My dad would probably look at me right now and say something to the nature of “that laziness will kill you”. Of course, in his own way, he was right. But I don’t think that not getting the right number of days on my journal entries is going to get me ripped apart by a zombie.
I would also like to point out that, in all honesty, I haven’t really been keeping track of the date. It hasn’t really mattered that much to me, although perhaps it should.
Ok, point is made: I’m lazy when it comes to writing, and don’t get too concerned with how my sections are divided. Just look at the number. Or figure it out on your own. I’ll try to throw some dates in from time to time, if I feel it’s relevant. Also, I don’t know who YOU are, but it helps me think I am writing this for someone or to someone, so allow me that liberty, oh imaginary person.
You might wonder why I didn’t write last night and the answer is simple. In the nine months since the dead started walking, I had yet to see a single zombie up at these heights. My father and I had seen plenty at far lower altitudes, but never this high. That being the case, I was a little rattled; a tad freaked out. These mountains had been my safe place this whole time, and now there was a chance this safety net was not as effective as I thought. Maybe not, but I wasn’t sure, so I was going to be safe. I slept especially high in a tree last night, and that would have made writing difficult.
But here I am today. I hung around Pisgah Inn, and actually stayed in one of the rooms. I have yet to see any other zombie, and am beginning to think this might have been a fluke wandering one.
Back to the day I saw the bear.
The bear was obviously confused by the zombie. It’s a dead thing, it has no heart beat, and it doesn’t breathe. I’m really not sure what the bear made of it, and that’s probably why it was pawing at it curiously. From my own experience with zombies, which isn’t really THAT much, they will eat almost anything alive, but this one just stood there. It was clearly still alive, or better yet, active, as it moved its head a bit here and there, but it wasn’t moving much, if any.
(My father had a theory as to why the zombies never really came up the mountains. Something to do with the energy required to walk up the slopes. My theory was that zombies just didn’t like the wonderful vistas up in the mountains.)
After about ten minutes, the bear finally decided to maul the poor thing. It had wandered around the zombie a few times, probably deciding if this was something it could eat, and it seemed to have decided against it, when it suddenly lunged at the standing fool and took off its right arm in one swipe before removing its head in the third or fourth swipe. The whole body crumbled and that was that. The bear took one sniff of the corpse, and was off into the trees.
It took me a half hour to build up the courage to walk down there, just as much because of the bear as because of the zombie. When I finally got down there, the zombie’s head was still alive in the sense that it was still looking around, so I crushed its skull with a log. Whatever controlled the body was clearly in the head, and removing those two from each other was usually a nice clear way to take one down.
I wandered around the grounds, then walked up to the Inn and walked around a while up there, just to be sure that no dead were there. It was quite clear. Still, I was a bit terrified, so as I mentioned before, I picked the highest tree I knew I could sleep in, ate something and found a way to sleep that night.
Of course, last night, I slept really well; on an actual bed again. I think I will take one more day here at the Inn. I have a good view south into the valleys and a good view in both directions of the Blue Ridge Parkway, just in case there are a few more stragglers. While I’m sitting around here in the once upon a time ear buzzing silence, I think I will attempt to describe just what has happened in my world.
And the rest of the world, too.
Entry 3[3]
The Pisgah Inn is one of those unique places that my father certainly would have enjoyed visiting and staying at in those days before the zombies came. It’s a “traditional” hotel establishment in that you have to get reservations and you pay per night, but it’s unique in that it’s far off the beaten path. It’s right off the Blue Ridge Parkway, overlooking Mount Pisgah, in a section of the Pisgah National Forest where there are almost no other buildings around. In the fall season, when everyone came up to view the changing colors, this place was usually packed.
Now, of course, it was empty.
I’m sitting in my room’s balcony, with a wonderful view due south. It’s a cold spring morning; not a cloud in the sky, and I could almost swear that I can see Charlotte from here. I have more than enough food for about ten more days, and I am positive that I can easily scrounge up more along the way. I have yet to check around the inn. There was a restaurant attached to the premises, but I’m guessing that its stores of food have either all gone bad, or completely scavenged. I wonder what the people who were staying here at the time of the outbreaks did. Most of them probably did what everyone else did: went home.
That’s where I was when it all happened: home.
Now I suppose I must relate how this has all happened. If this journal somehow turns into a historical reference to the events that occurred on this planet, then I suppose I must be thorough and explain everything. The irony of it all is that if you somehow survived this all, then you know how this all came to take place, and if you are someone from a future generation with no records of the past, then, the world is somehow back to normal, and it might not matter that much, really.
So again, back to how it all occurred. The current end of the world was precipitated by another end of the world (almost). I guess this entire situation is one of wild ironies, coincidences or just flat out luck. Most would call it bad luck.
Back in October of 2012, the news feeds exploded with the discovery of an object in space, hurtling towards the direction of earth. There was no secret to this event, for the object had been discovered by no less than fifty two individuals of different professional levels, and all at around the same time. In fact, there was a dispute as to what the new object, at first determined to be a comet, would be called.
Initial studies of its mass and trajectory found that it would be one of the closest objects from outer space to glide by the earth. In nearly four years after its discovery, this exciting new space traveler would zip past at about the distance the earth was from the moon. Rumor was that the night sky would be lit up for days, and that even during the day
this comet would be visible enough to see the details on it, if it had any.
Two months passed and during the Christmas holidays that year, lawsuits went up to determine the name of this comet. Since the event would be quite the spectacle, everyone wanted a piece of the action. But this all went out of the door because, as my dad mentioned at the time, the “shit hit the fan”. After two months of the being able to study the object, scientists from all over the world came to a unanimous conclusion: this thing was going to hit earth. Suddenly, the comet had a name, and it was Death.
Now, at this time, the world (or really, mostly the civilized world, and even then, mostly just America) was fascinated by the supposed end of the world. You see, for many years now, all we heard was about how the Mayan’s had supposedly predicted the end of the world to happen in December of 2012. Now, my own somewhat educated guess was that the Mayans simply ran out of large round rocks on which to carve their calendars, and figured that since the year 2012 was so far into their own future, why keep carving more stone calendars? My opinions notwithstanding, there were some really serious books, shows and movies into the matter. And, as humans are prone to being when they encounter something they don’t know, we, human beings that is, freaked out.
So now we have this incoming apocalypse that had been discovered on December of 2012. Goodness, even my father, who I have always considered quite rational and pragmatic, was glued to the TV for days. It was all that was talked about. The media ate it up. The media outlets tried their hardest to outdo the other with computer generated graphics, interviews with scientists and the headlines. The headlines were the best. Oddly enough, I really can’t remember any of the good ones, but I certainly remember being quite amused by them.
Unfortunately for the news outlets, the comet had something against them. This thing wasn’t going to crash down next week, or next month. It was really only due in about three and a half years or so. That’s a long time, especially for the American people. By the end of January, Americans were already back to being their own selves, wondering just who would win the Super Bowl that year.
Deadfall: Survivors Page 1
