In the end, he decided that the best course of action was to let her die peacefully by disconnecting her ventilator. He would then keep vigil on the chance that she returned. No one thought that would be the case, as she hadn’t come into contact with anyone infected but we just didn’t know for sure. It was something he did alone, choosing to say his final goodbye in private.
Our only answer to his vigil over her body was the single retort from his gun and the gut wrenching sobs from the other end of the house.
Within minutes he was out, composed and shatteringly vacant. Then we were gone. The moment not forgotten but strangely beyond us at this point.
A few days ago, Max quietly told me that he hadn’t waited for Melinda to die. He said that he couldn’t bear watching her body struggle as it asphyxiated. We had all assumed that she had come back, had become one of the Undead, but that wasn’t the case. And I’m not surprised that he shared his secret with me. I know the pain he had felt in that moment. Shooting someone you love is… difficult.
So please do not wait until it’s too late. Give yourself the chance to survive.
Day 9:
Making our way further south has been fairly easy the past day or so. Keeping ahead of the Undead has been easy as well. I don’t think we’ve even seen one since crossing the channel between Lake Huron and Lake St. Clair. Despite our lack of seeing the Undead, we know they are behind us, slowly making their way in their never-ending parody of a putrefied parade.
We’ve managed to make good time, skirting around the highly urban areas in Michigan State; trying to evade as much notice as possible. We are finally starting to see some movement of people but it’s nothing like what we witnessed coming out of Toronto and the surrounding suburbs.
We’ve been talking a lot about the mass exodus of Toronto in the past twelve hours. Talking about how we haven’t seen hardly a soul make it as far as we have. Wondering what route others may have taken. Then it occurs to you, did some just stop, thinking that they had gone far enough? Did others just give up moving forward and allow themselves to be absorbed into the masses of the Undead?
It’s heart wrenching to think that people could just lie down to accept a fate worse than death like that but in the face of something so pervasively evil who could blame them?
We decided we should attempt to make better time. There was just no way that we were going to get through the continental United States without some form of transportation, so we ‘borrowed’ a 4×4 truck from a long-term parking facility and hoped it would help get us as far south as possible. We figured that travelling in the truck would make us less conspicuous and a lot more protected against the Undead and the possibility of piracy.
It also gave us the huge advantage of moving at night, something we’d been unable to do on foot, so long as the roads remained clear ahead of us. Did I mention we might even be able to sleep a little more soundly? Sleep was something in short supply with us and being able to sleep two at a time in a protected space was like giving candy to a bunch of kids. It was like we’d won the lottery.
We were trying to figure out who would get the first sleep shift when Ben noticed something odd off to the west in a field next to the road. A few sheep were acting strangely and pressing themselves so forcefully up against their fencing that it looked like they were going to break through it.
Bob pulled the truck over as both Ben and I got out our binoculars and focused in on the sheep, noting the heavy breathing and panicked looks on their normally vacant faces. Movement caught my eye just to the left and I noticed that the rest of the field appeared to be littered with gory carcasses.
My first thought was of a predator like a coyote but the longer I stared the more my mind began to focus on the real culprit. My blood ran cold as I reached out and touched Ben’s arm. His only words were “My God…” The last few sheep were gone in mere minutes, consumed by the voracious appetites of the swarm of chipmunks.
Undead fucking chipmunks.
Forget the cute little furry friends you talk to in your backyard; these were die-hard, eat the flesh right off your bones critters. Once done with the sheep, the swarming mass of them started to head in our direction.
Bob put the car back into gear as Max and I made sure that all the vents and windows in the truck were closed tightly. The swarm moved quickly, much faster than any ‘human’ Undead we’d ever seen. They broke out onto the road behind us keeping a fairly good pace, Bob only being able to go so fast on the broken dirt road. Up ahead we could see a stop sign, a level meeting of two roads and we could see for a few kilometers in each direction. It was a safe bet that we would be able to run the stop sign and not risk being overrun by them.
In the distance coming from the west I noticed a yellow school bus approaching the intersection. Focusing through my binoculars I could see the open windows with the small hands hanging out to feel the wind. See the innocent, joyful faces of the children probably on their way home from school.
Hastily judging speed and distance, it was obvious that the bus was going to get to the intersection prior to our truck. Looking behind us I could see that the swarm was gaining ground on us with each passing moment.
We had a decision to make: blow through the stop sign and hope for the best, sacrificing those innocent kids to the horde, or slow down and let the mass of rodents overtake us, hoping that the school bus was not going to turn in our direction at the intersection.
There really was no discussion.
We all knew what we had to do.
While we all wanted to survive, to outlast the infection, we knew that we could not sacrifice a bus load of innocent children to do so. We had the means to possibly fight our way out of an encounter with the Undead chipmunks, but we knew that those children did not.
Our collective mind made up, Bob started to slow the truck down by applying the brake. Through the back window I could see the ravenous horde getting closer. It was a stunningly terrifying sight to see the solid, teeming mass of bloodied fur almost float toward us.
And then, we were still, the car having come to a complete stop.
We all unsheathed our hunting knives, getting ready for the moment that we would have to fight. Knowing in our minds that one bite would be enough to infect us.
Enough to turn one of us into one of them.
Within a few seconds, we could hear the sounds of tiny nails on the car, not unlike the sound of nails on a chalkboard. It started to get darker in the car as the swarm covered us. Through the windows you could see their little undead faces pressed up hard against the glass. Their beady little white eyes boring into you. It was truly terrifying, those moments where we stared into the faces of hell.
And then as quickly as they were upon us, they moved on. Bob had left the motor running on the truck effectively sealing off most of the engine cavity from them. That was probably what saved us, to be perfectly honest.
Or perhaps it was the fact that the bus had stopped just to the east of the intersection in order to let a little girl with blonde pigtails disembark.
The horde in its entirety was now moving toward that school bus and that little girl. All we could do was watch in absolute horror as the young girl noticed the swarm coming toward her. For a moment she was still, but then she realized what was coming at her was not a good thing. We watched those little pigtails flying out behind her as her too-big backpack shifted on her back as she ran. Ran for her young life.
The mass of undead chipmunks split. Some chased the girl, and the others aimed for the bus loaded with prey. The young girl was knocked down by the force of them climbing on her small frame; her terrified screams a warning signal to the driver of the bus who stopped to see what had happened.
Each of us willed the bus to start moving again but we knew that they were all going to die; the bus with all of its open windows became a feeding ground for them. The sound was terrible, heartbreaking, and sickening. Not wanting to watch any further, Bob accelerated hard and blew throu
gh the intersection.
We just drove. Further and further away. The sounds of the day relentlessly haunting us.
We had no idea that the infection could jump species. It was something that we had never even considered. How do you protect yourself against an Undead animal world? The discovery terrified us to the core of our very beings.
The game definitely changed at that point. It’s time for everyone to wake up and get moving before it’s too late. There will be no sleep for us again tonight. Not with this hanging over our heads.
Please pray for survival…
Day 10:
Reports have flooded the local affiliate news station about a bus of school children that had been attacked by some unknown assailant and had turned around to commit acts of unspeakable violence themselves. No one seems to have heard of the situation just to the north of them so no one is making any kind of connection.
I find it very odd that the news of the Undead has not reached this far south. Could the people of the United States be even more clueless than those in Canada in this instance?
The local communities are understandably shocked and horrified by what they assume is senseless violence. There are clips of concerned citizens all over the Internet lamenting the degree of violence and their concern for their own children.
No seems to know or understand what it was that committed the acts of atrocity and all of the authorities commented on the extreme mutilated states of the bodies that are continuing to walk around. They cannot believe that anything could survive such violence.
There are also related links to the herds of farm animals that appear to have been targeted by the same people. Now that the community is facing an unknown assailant or assailants, they seem to want to mobilize to counteract something; they just don’t know what…
If only they realized that their unknown assailants were in fact a horde of Undead chipmunks. It’s scary to think that no one will likely know what it was that really attacked those children and the animals. And if they do figure it out, their death will likely follow quickly. Those little Undead things are fast and they don’t look like they’re stopping anytime soon.
I would hate to see them in a highly urbanized setting. They would decimate the population in a matter of hours.
Last night we were absolutely haunted by the images that we witnessed. It was horrible to see all of those small children fall prey to something so sinister. They didn’t even see it coming. The fear that they must have felt in those last moments… It makes me sick to my stomach to think of it. And now each and every one of them is a member of the Undead army, looking for more people to assimilate.
Where did those chipmunks even come from? Tracking the locations of the links, it appears that they came from the west - but everything Undead should be to the northeast of us. Was it possible that there is something starting to the west? If so, will we be able to outrun it or just meet it in the south as it spreads out?
We’re just going to keep moving south and a bit more quickly now knowing what is behind us. Every house, farm, school, church, or building of any kind that we pass makes me think about is the fact that these people could be the next victims of the mass of deadly carcasses. There is a part of you that wants to stop, that wants to warn them all of what is coming; but you know that stopping could potentially mean your own death.
There is no telling how close the swarm is behind us or if they are even moving in the same southerly direction. And there is the potential that the horde is growing larger as more and more chipmunks as well as other small rodents and mammals become infected. The thought chills me to my marrow and fills me with a sense of despair.
The mood in the car has been very somber. None of us really want to talk but the silence is just as depressing as the topics we always come back to. At least I have an out in some ways. I can search the web from my computer and insulate myself from the banter in the car. It’s not that much fun on the Internet, mind you. Let me tell you about what I came across today.
There is a group in Florida that has decided to make a final stand in the Everglades if the Undead ever reach them. Now I’m not that knowledgeable about the Everglades but I know that they are somewhat inhospitable. With the number of dangerous wildlife species living in the waters and on land, I’m not sure it’s the place that I would choose to go. I have heard that there are hunting camps nestled deep in the reserve so it may be safe.
The Undead will eventually find you though if you stop. I believe that with all of my being; nowhere is truly safe. Given that belief, I wonder sometimes why we keep moving. Wouldn’t it be better for us to just pick a place in the countryside somewhere and fortify a house? The problem with that idea is that there are a number of people that haven’t seen the wisdom in getting out of the way of the Undead. It’s hard to know what the correct decision to make in this situation is. In many cases, you’re either damned if you do or conversely damned if you don’t.
I don’t feel much like relating the day to you tonight. Not after describing the events of yesterday to you last night. Or after seeing the videos and photographs on the web. Perhaps it’s time for you to learn about another one of our group. Telling one of our stories might be a bit cathartic for me at this point. A quick step away without actually physically stepping away…
Ben grew up an orphan; a product of the child welfare system. He was bumped around to numerous foster homes and as a result, all he ever dreamt about was escape. Escape from his current room. Escape from his current foster house. Escape from his current city. Escape from his life. He had no family to turn to and very few friends that he would choose to trust.
His love for maps and cartography developed on those dark and lonely days. He would go to his local library and study them for hours. Visit the local planning office to view what used to be in an area and what was planned to sit on top of it in the future.
Knowing that his only way to make a better future for himself was to work as hard as he could in school and make an escape - he did, putting himself through medical school on full scholarships. One would have thought that he might have chosen to be a cartographer but his desire to help people took him in the direction of medicine. Ben was lucky enough to be one of the success stories of the child welfare system.
He was ending a night shift that morning that they brought Brooks VanReit into the Emergency Room at St. Mike’s to be treated. He wasn’t assigned to treat him, so he luckily didn’t have direct contact with Patient Zero before or after his death but he knew that once the corpse reanimated that it was time for him to leave. His view from the nurse’s station only reinforced his desire to get out fast.
Ben tried to talk his partner Kevin, a nurse in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, into leaving with him, but there was just no convincing him to leave his post. Besides, at that point there really wasn’t an issue; the word around the rest of the hospital was that a riot had broken out. The alarms were sounding so most of the doctors, nurses and support care workers thought it was best just to stay where they were; out of the fire so to speak.
Knowing that there was no convincing Kevin once his mind was made up, he left his love at the epicenter and rode his bike through the city to their condo. Once there, he collected all of his maps, his compass and his satellite GPS and headed out to the prearranged rally point; Max’s house. He also packed a small bag of essentials; some clothes and his Glock. The gun was a recent gift from Steve, my husband. The two had grown close after Ben had saved Steve’s life a few years ago after getting shot while on duty.
Along the way, he could see the panic starting to build in the streets. People were reacting to the news that someone had died and then seemingly come back to life. Only he wasn’t alive; he was attacking people and then those people were dying, then coming back to life and causing a terrible chain reaction of irreversible events.
On his way to Max’s house, he got a panicked call from Kevin at the hospital. He needed and wanted help to get out; the h
ospital was under siege from the Undead. How it had happened so quickly, no one alive now really knows.
Ben knew going back was certain death. He also knew that he had given Kevin the opportunity to leave when things were still relatively calm, if not disorganized. Then there was the unknown factor: Ben could go back to save the love of his young life but there was no way to know for certain that once he got to the hospital and then into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit that Kevin would still be among the living. Forget trying to figure out how he was going to get in there without coming face to face with any number of the Undead.
Ben told Kevin he was coming to get him and then disconnected the call.
He had no intention of going back to save him, to do so was fool hardy and a death sentence; he just knew that he couldn’t say the words out loud.
Ben made it to Max’s in record time.
So please don’t wait until it’s too late. Allow yourself a chance at survival… I wish those of you on a similar journey Godspeed.
Day 11:
We’re starting to more reports on the Internet of the Undead being seen in New York State, Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, and parts of New Jersey. There have also been reports that they are in Quebec and Manitoba. It’s frightening to see how the epidemic is radiating outward from Toronto. It appears to be growing every day. Every hour. And we’re beginning to realize that there is no way that anyone or anything that will be able to stop the Undead.
There have been no reports, and I mean ZERO reports, of any militarized response of any level on any of the news outlets or websites.
Where are they?
Why has no one responded?
What are they waiting for?
You have to ask yourself if it’s possible that they have responded and that things just didn’t go as expected so the Military is covering up what can only be described as an epic failure on American soil… Maybe there isn’t anyone left in the Military to care about that failure. Are they scrambling to mount a secondary defense? It doesn’t help that both Max and Bob are ex-Military. Even they are surprised at the lack of response. No Military, no Police, nothing…
Days With The Undead (Book 1) Page 5
