ALAN: Who was the suicidal nut that ran up with a match?
ME: None. We fired flares.
ALAN: I'm extremely impressed. If Ray hadn't seen it I'd find it a hard story to believe! That being said, I'm glad the threat of that is gone.
ME: As am I. They seemed to stay in our general area out there...their feeding and hunting ground. The Bolters seem extremely territorial.
ALAN: Ah, yeah! Ray said you had a name for them. I like it. What about the slow ones?
ME: Roamers....slower ones Shamblers...and the ones that are ground surprises we just refer to as Stagnants.
ALAN: [loud laugh] That's very good. Very good. I guess you gotta call the fuckers something to let your friends know what threat is spotted.
ME: What do your people call them?
ALAN: Fast fuckers and slow fuckers. We didn't spend any creative time on it [laughs]. Perhaps we'll adopt your titles, eh?
ME: By all means!
ALAN: So tell me, before all this...what did you do? Wait...let me guess. Hmmm. Construction maybe?...no...I quit.
ME: Security guard.
ALAN: I'd probably never guess it...where at?
ME: A mall. Chapel Hill to be exact.
ALAN: Ah, yeah. You lived in the area?
ME: Small suburb in Kenmore.
ALAN: That area must have been nerve-racking I'd think.
ME: Yeah, eventually we just had to get out. We lost some good people there, too.
ALAN: Why out here?
ME: Had some folks that lived out this way.
ALAN: Alright...I'm going to speak with your friends and ask some similar questions. Maybe more. Gotta get a feel for you all. I'm glad to meet you! You showed real skill with how you dispatched those things. That'll go a long way when we vote on it.
ME: Are you the man in charge here?
ALAN: They look at me that way but I don't want all that weight on my shoulders. Could drive a man insane. So we vote among myself and those closest to me.
ME: That works out well. Okay, I'll let you get to the others...thank you!
ALAN: And thank you.
The interviews went by and pleasantries were exchanged before we were escorted back to our quaint little home in the woods. It really did feel like a home. Although we wanted to live in Haven, I was glad to see this place. I'd grown fond of it rather quickly.
Kelly expected them to be back within a day or two. That didn't happen. Days went by and everyday that passed she got more upset and depressed. Jim kept reassuring her to relax.
After two weeks of a distraught Kelly, Ray and Travis pulled in the drive. Kelly heard the truck from inside and burst out the door. She shrieked with excitement and threw her arms around Jim, nearly knocking him off balance. Reggie slapped me on the shoulder, grinning and ruffling Ben's hair (much to his annoyance) while I went to greet Ray and Travis.
Hell, they seemed almost as happy as us; glad to know we had made a good impression.
RAY: Alright, guys. Now you can gather your things...if you so wish.
***
When we drove through the gates we saw some curious faces watching us from afar with apprehension. Which I understood. There were plots where some folks were gardening. A well with water, solar panels, water filtration. They really built something special and we were now apart of it. Grateful seemed a massive understatement!
We were given a tour of the property and eventually led a good distance down the yards. Two houses. The first was a one story little home with two bedrooms. Alan informed Jim and Kelly it was their new home. Neither of them could believe it!
Then a few yards away was another. As luck would have it, a three bedroom. Two story. It was presented to Reggie, Ben and myself. We couldn't express how much appreciation we had. It turned out these were the last two houses until walls were complete around another area of homes. We were ready from the start to begin pitching in and helping on such projects, but Alan insisted we take a few days to just settle in and relax for a bit.
I walked later with Alan around the property and he pointed out people and locations. He introduced me to his daughter Rachel. A bright young woman who would have been graduating soon. She held a diary in her hand.
I knew I wasn't the only one keeping a record. It was a surprise, however, to meet someone else doing so. He introduced me to some of her friends and even a couple teachers who survived that had taught at Crestwood High. I was surprised to learn that.
Turned out that originally they were from the Mantua area. Hence why they were patrolling our area in the past...too bad we never flagged them down when we first spotted them. Met some couples and a grumpy old man. Felt like, well, a typical neighborhood.
I looked around at it all. At the people walking about. For the first time in a long time, there was a sense of hope. A sense of semi normality in this new world. I looked around at all the different survivors and then thought of my own journal. I don't know what things loomed ahead, but for now we needed to soak all this in and feel safe for awhile.
There were many stories to be told here from those all around me. Stories I wanted to hear. Stories of survival and endurance. And there would be more stories to arrive here in the future.
Stories that needed to be told.
Stories I would write for them.
- Jack Reeds
The Dead Lands Diary (Book 1) Page 24
