Reggie...he was doing okay...just "spooked" a lot. Him and his movies. He brought the levity to us all that we needed. He kept the smiles for us on some very dark days.
***
Over the course of a week we gathered crates and buckets full of peppers and tomatoes. Burlap sacks, that we found in the barn, with cabbage.
The last couple days we spent at a cornfield nearby...and as promised Reggie never stepped foot inside. He stayed on top of Ken's truck with rifle in hand, scanning around with the scope. On the fourth day we left early after he spotted three Bolters in a clearing across the field and they entered the corn heading in our direction. After that we decided to stay clear of that field; there were plenty more around after all.
Kelly canned all that she could for storage, the rest we ate over the coming days until it began to go bad. We picked far more than we needed. Better more than not enough, though.
***
SEPTEMBER
Some of the days began to become a bit chilly now. It was fluctuating a lot. Days of 70 degrees, a few 80. Then drops into the 60's. Winter was approaching and it made us all nervous.
All four of us knew how cold Ohio winters could get. Usually did get. We'd had some mild winters here and there, but they were far and few between. On a good day we'd have maybe a day in the 50's. Not often. Usually 30's...which is tolerable and those are the days we'd go out the most...but in January and February was when it was the coldest. Tempts below 20. Sometimes single digits and plenty of times we've had days of below zero. We had to make sure we had the means to stay warm. The snow could get very heavy here, too. Plenty of white out conditions we wouldn't want to get caught outside in and the occasional ice storm and freezing rain.
Thankfully the old house had a fireplace and an old wood burner that could be used. Again, old house. Lucky for us. Wood burner probably hadn't been used since the fuckin' pioneer days. Ken had always used the fireplace though around Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Tim began cutting and gathering wood from the woods next to the house. We took turns cutting while others stayed watch. We were constantly on edge thinking the axe was going to attract infected. Sometimes later in the evening we'd see Roamers spotted around some nearby fields or on the road. Only on those days of cutting wood. They wandered from who knows how far from hearing us. We'd watch them eventually move along. We started cutting wood only every other day and many times every three days to make sure those Roamers weren't extremely close by.
Our biggest fear of course was attracting Bolters. And people.
***
The next house we ended up checking was a little one story close to the road. On days we didn't gather wood we raided abandoned homes. The last few were empty. Sometimes we'd find a dead animal or rotting food...thankfully we hadn't found another nightmare like the farm. Not until now.
The front door was open. Probably had been since The Fall. There was a large front window to the right of the entrance. I went there first and peered inside. A television was on the floor; glass shattered. Broken lamp and messed up rug.
I removed the crowbar from my belt and went through the door first. Same old smells. To the left was a large kitchen with a dining table. A vase of dead flowers in the center. At the end of the table, past the vase, sat a dead woman. She was face down, side of her face on the table as if she was sleeping, with her arms reached across.
Her wrists were slashed. Dried blood pooled around her hands and arms and running over the sides of the table where it was crusted on the floor.
Her body was completely emaciated. She'd been here for a long time now. Her gray t-shirt and jeans hanging loosely on her petrified looking corpse. On the side of the vase facing us was a sheet of notebook paper; I could see writing scrawled on it.
The others (Reggie, Jim and Ben) moved with me as I walked up to the table and sat at the chair sitting there. I took the note and they stood beside to read, too.
To whoever may read this -
My name is Wendy. My husband, my son, never came home. He went to Kent to find our son at the university. I know they're dead. We waited a week and still no sign of them. My daughter was all I had left. She got sick. Some small animal. A mouse maybe? It bit her foot when we were looking around outside one night.
She got worse. I knew, we knew, it could be transferred by animals......I just hoped this one wasn't infected. My Susie became a little aggressive...then a horrible fever. I knew what it meant and I carried her down into the cellar.
There's a small room down there with a bed. It's a guestroom. Last night I sat with her and she just...died. She began to..twitch? I went upstairs and locked the door. She was all I had left. My family is dead. I'm alone...I'm not strong enough for this. I can't survive this all alone...I just want to be with my family. So I'm going to go and find them now.
I don't know how to put her body to rest. I can't do it. I know my Susie is dead...so it's not her..but I can't do it. I thought about opening the door and letting her kill me. But I can't do that either...I can't see her looking like that.
Henry...Brad...if by some ironic chance you're alive...I'm sorry. I gave up. I know you're dead...you'd have been back. But just...IF...I'm sorry. I was weak and couldn't do this. I failed to protect Susie. IF you're alive...she's still down there. Don't be weak like me...just..fight.
To whomever else may find this...my daughter is in the cellar. I can hear her thrashing around down there and growling. I can't listen to it any longer. My only wish is that this letter finds someone with compassion and can do what I couldn't for her. Please.
- Wendy
I stomped my foot hard on the floor and waited.
Below our feet a Dead Call shrieked.
***
We backtracked out of the kitchen area and glanced around. There was a hall leading past the livingroom to our right. Before the hallway, on the left wall, was another door. It had two boards firmly nailed across it.
Reggie let out a very audible sigh.
JIM: Today we just came to the wrong ass house.
REGGIE: I second that.
ME: Doesn't matter. We'd eventually have searched here anyway...and I'm sure we'll find similar or worse in the future.
REGGIE: The farm was horrible. This...this is far worse. To think they're could be worse...I don't wanna think that shit.
ME: Well, hoping we don't find worse...but I'm not holding my breath. And I'm honoring this womans wishes.
JIM: What's your plan?
ME: Normally, I'd say we just gather stuff and go, ya know? But...you read that letter. Today we do what Kelly would most definitely do.
JIM: Okay.
REGGIE: Yeah. I'm okay with that. It was a dying wish...I never want to know what that poor woman felt.
ME: Her husband and son are for sure dead. It's been awhile since she killed herself...if they'd have been here it'd be obvious.
JIM: I'm glad Kelly is home canning shit. Hearing about this will upset her...but seeing it...this would break her heart. I don't care how adapted she has become. I'm adapted...we're adapting...but this isn't something you simply adapt to. This hits me.
BEN: Yeah...hits me, too....
ME: Okay...I'm gonna pry these boards off. I'll put her down.
BEN: No...I want to.
JIM: You sure, kid?
ME: Why now?
BEN: This was a family killed by those things. She lost her whole family. She quit. I lost everyone and didn't...but I understand. I couldn't put my family down. I don't know where they wandered to. I want to do this for this lady. She couldn't for her...and I couldn't for mine...so I want to do this for her.
ME:....okay, then. I understand.
REGGIE: When we pull those boards, watch opening that door. She could be right there reading to spring the fuck out...
ME: No, I don't think so. She's been down there since she turned. She'd be a Stagnant by now.
REGGIE: Oh yeah...
ME: Then we bury them both beside
one another in the backyard.
I pried the first board off and let it clank on the floor. A Dead Call rang out from downstairs. I pried the second board, pulled at it, and dropped it as well. Another Dead Call. Closer this time.
I clicked on my light. Ben stood beside me; a bat gripped in his hands.
I opened the door. It creaked eerily and the smell of decay sliced our nostrils making us recoil. I shined the light downstairs. She was there. Use of her legs gone from lack of sustenance. She was a weak creature. Emaciated and skeletal in places. Her discolored veiny eyes glared at us. The flesh was pulled tight around her eyes and mouth. Her teeth were bared.
One step at a time she was pulling herself up the stairs with her thin arms. Even in this condition they could show a lot of strength. Especially when spotting food. Us. It was a horrid and scary thing to witness.
I could tell she was about to let out a Call and I shut the door to muffle it from the outside. It sounded so loud now at this distance.
We listened to it claw its way further up. When I cracked the door to look she was halfway up now. The light made her look up again. Her matted black hair hung in her face on the left side; much of it patchy. She stretched her bony fingers toward me, then clamped them on the next step, growling as she lurched up.
I closed the door again.
I instructed Ben that when she got to the door I'd open it and he was to strike it in the head. Hard. He looked slightly nervous but more determined than anything else. He appeared overall void of fear.
We waited. Finally we could hear it just on the other side. It began to claw at the door trying to push it open.
I looked at Ben when I grabbed the knob. He nodded.
I opened the door. She was at our feet. Her head jerked to the side to look up. She let out a growl that was interrupted by the bat bashing her in the head. A loud crack followed by her face smashing into the floor on her left cheek. The sound of her neck snapping made me cringe.
The skull was visibly smashed on the side. I nudged her a few times with my boot for good measure. Better safe than sorry. It was dead.
We cleared the rest of the house. After, we gathered sheets from bedrooms and wrapped both bodies and carried them to the yard behind the house.
I went back inside to fold the letter. I stuck it in my pocket to transfer its contents now to this record.
We'd found two shovels in the garage. One was flimsy but the other sturdy. We took turns digging. When finished we lowered them down and covered them up with little words. I hope they found some peace now. I hope she found them in the next life.
Millions....billions...of lives shattered and destroyed. Countless numbers of stories like this around the globe. Countless stories that won't be told or ever known. But me...I'm going to document every story I can. Tell the stories of sorrow, like this one, as well as those of triumph and survival, like Ben's.
To give respect to those lost...and maybe to others, inspire a sense of hope from those that survived and endured.
***
Nights later we held a discussion.
REGGIE: I really don't want to ask this...but I know it's gonna happen eventually and I don't wanna wonder when you're gonna spring it on me...so when are you going to propose the stupid mother fuckin' idea...gotta say first what I already think of it...of going into larger areas you've told us about?
KELLY: I wouldn't think we'd even need to! Why would we? We're doing okay.
TIM: For now we are, sure. But that won't last forever.
ME: For now...we have plenty more homes to scour and take supplies from. Do we need to check out the larger areas? Yes..but not right this minute. Not for supplies anyway.
REGGIE: Then what else for?
ME: Well...I donno. It might be smart to scout the outskirts of Ravenna and The Boro. We should know what we'd be walking into when the time comes that we have little choice but to go. Infected? Absolutely and by larger numbers...but we should know if there's people...maybe some that need help, like we discussed.
KELLY: We also discussed not dealing with that until after winter.
ME: Okay...true. But we should still scope the areas from a safe distance...see what they look like. We're going to need safe houses set up, too.
JIM: And what about the place that was mentioned in the note? Kent?
ME: They had a military safe zone set up...which housed...who the hell knows how many people. Thousands. Those zones fell fast. Kent would have more infected than the others combined I'd assume. I wouldn't want to look around there for a long time to come.
BEN: What about Akron? What was that like?
REGGIE: Don't ask.
JIM: A deathtrap. It quickly started to become a war zone. That's why we didn't stay there longer.
ME: Yeah...we'll never be going back there. No reason to. I can only imagine how horrible Cleveland is now. Have a few good memories from there. Mostly from field trips. Like the zoo. And with that thought, I can promise you all I'll never propose a trip there for any reason!
KELLY: Are the two we were talking about the biggest around?
ME: Along with Kent, yeah. Well, Aurora is a decent size too. Further away though, so no need to venture there without a good reason.
REGGIE: I'm regretting brining this shit up.
ME: You can relax a little while. I was thinking we'd scope it when it gets colder. Let's see how the cold effects the bastards first. If we see less or they slowdown, then that'd be a safer time to scout big areas.
KELLY: Provided you don't get caught in shitty weather.
JIM: There is that.
BEN: It looks like snow, we come back. Not rocket science.
REGGIE: Quiet, you!...but he's right.
ME: Storms can still move in suddenly...especially if we were distracted by something. Who cares right now...we have awhile to think on all that shit. Let's stay focused on the now, can we?
TIM: The now being more of the same we're doing, right? House by house? Chopping wood?
ME: Yes, chopping wood, gathering shit...it's monotonous, I know...but we have to have enough shit through winter...you know how shitty it can get, Tim.
REGGIE: Yeah...we can't be fuckin' grasshoppers!
TIM: What?!
REGGIE: Gotta be ants, man!
TIM: The fuck are you talking about?
REGGIE: Nothin'
ME: You're still understandably on edge, Tim. I'm starting to think being cooped up is giving you a little cabin fever. Come along with us on the next house. You ain't gotta go in or anything, but you need out. You were a lot better when you helped us find fields.
TIM: Yeah...Yeah, OK. I think that'd be good. I'm sorry. It is the tediousness though...especially when it's cutting wood all day. Need a break from all that.
ME: We have a good amount, too. I just want to make sure it's enough. Better to have an abundance than too little. It could be a bad winter.
And a bad winter it was...
***
The rest of September we cut, and collected from the woods, a large quantity of wood to last through the winter. It was stacked in large neat piles behind the house and a few inside.
We went through more, but not all, of the nearby houses. Although most were empty we still ran into a few that had remains inside.
One had a young couple sitting dead on a couch, both with self inflicted gunshot wounds.
Another had what had once been a boy, not much older than Ben, torn to pieces. Parts of him were scattered around the livingroom and dining room. The infected didn't leave much of him. Almost certainly a pack of Bolters. No other bodies had been in the house. There was no way to really tell his story. Nothing left behind like some of the places.
The days began to cool more. Although we still had the occasional warmer day, we were averaging between 50 and 60 degrees.
As the temps continued to cool we began making plans to scout the larger towns.
***
OCTOBER
Near the
end of October's final week, the temps had began dipping low. When it was already this cold before November, it was a shoe in for a bitter winter. Almost guaranteed. Today it was mid 40's and had a few light snow flurries in the evening. Under normal circumstances it would have been a little uplifting to watch the first snow. Not so much now. Already we had to use the wood burner and fireplace. Seeing the icy flakes just made us hope we had enough wood. That we were, as Reggie would now say since my story, good ants.
During the day I had looked out the window toward the street. I watched a lone Roamer staggering down the street. I had to squint to make out his features more; to see how decomposed he was because I almost thought he was a Shambler.
The Dead Lands Diary (Book 1) Page 15
