Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family

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Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family Page 27

by Philbrook, Chris


  If the Outsiders are going to steal anything that’ll hurt us, it’ll be the fucking gasoline left in the few service stations in town. It makes a lot of sense right now to hit those places, empty them the fuck out, and save ourselves a lot of hassle later if they’re drained by the Outsiders.

  The safe house hadn’t been touched by anything. There were two undead milling about in the back yard that Hector put down with the stock of his M4, and other than that, nothing of note. The water and food was still there, as was our radio. We took the sign, and before you knew it, it was like we were never there.

  Mike and Patty were good at MGR after we removed a house’s panels. Oh, that went well too. Nothing of note. MGR had three or four undead out and about nearby, and when we realized we hadn’t really accumulated any scrap metal to bring back, we elected to remove the bodies from the street so there was less of a sign that we were occupying MGR.

  Nasty ass work. Once the bodies start to rot they get heinous. Rubber gloves, bleach, and vomit were the order of the day. It makes me not want to remove or deal with all the dead bodies scattered around town. There are a lot of them too. Shit, just near the clinic there has to be a hundred in the fucking road. I’m thinking we evacuate, and nuke them from orbit.

  Kill them with fire, I think is the phrase.

  At some point we will need to address the issue of the bodies, but it isn’t critical, and it is an unnecessary risk at the moment. I can just see the nightmare scenario of what would happen if three or four people were killed or captured while on body cleanup duty. I’d be strung up for making that call. Now yesterday’s case of us already being at MGR is different. We were out, and it makes tactical sense to clear those bodies away.

  When we returned we threw them on the pyre spot, and got the fire going again. More vomit, lots of gross smoke, and a few stiff drinks later and everything was alright.

  Today was boring. Not gonna lie.

  I didn’t want to clear Martin to travel outside the wall again, despite him being really antsy to go. His wife Julie has been bitching about the constant days he’s outside not with her, and not with little Chester, who isn’t getting any smaller. I told Martin to chill with his family, and give everyone else the day off.

  The past few days have seen Ryan building like a goddamn stoner high as a kite. He’s got a handful of hydro setups made already, and at the rate he’s going, with the help he’s getting, he’ll have everything set up and fully operational in a few weeks. What does bother me, is that when Abby and Becca aren’t hanging out, Becca has been hanging with Ryan. Now I am not saying that Ryan is below my sister, but if he touches her, I’ll murder him and find someone else to maintain the hydro gear.

  Sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere. She’s my little sister. Nothing touches her vagina while I am on watch.

  Sorry Becca. Rules are rules.

  What else? Still no evidence regarding the arsonist. No other murders or suicides either, which doesn’t prove or disprove that the asshole(s) are here or not. I don’t know what else to do about it. Maybe the dickhead is just biding his time until the perfect moment to strike to totally fuck us over. If he’s working for evil, then that makes a lot of sense eh?

  We’ve got several irons to put in the fire. On campus here we’re working the farming aspect hard. Ollie brought up at dinner earlier that we NEED a barn for winter, and if we’re going to get the fucker built, we need to start right damn now. I told him to start asking for volunteers and to see if anyone had carpentry skills. We don’t need anything fancy, just decent.

  We need gasoline I bet, and we should stock up on diesel. Martin still needs scrap metal, and we need to remove and install more solar panels. I really want to come up with some kind of a plan regarding the Outsiders if they continue to interact with us in an aggressive manner. The more I try to fall asleep at night, the more I’m kept up by the idea that those fuckers might have slaves working at their “Factory.” It’s also personal. They nearly kidnapped my sister, and sister in law, and there’s would’ve been hell to pay had that happened. I’m nearly in the mind that there should be hell to pay on principal.

  If I do anything, I really want to do it small. Two, maybe four of us, moving quietly, like my initial Westfield work. Once Caleb is good to go, I’d like to take him. We hunted for years as kids, and I know he saw action in Afghanistan when he was in the Corp. He’s a legit combat veteran, and I trust him. Maybe Hector and Blake too. If we roll hard and quiet, we can play the guerilla game too. Take a few potshots here and there, drop a few fuckers when they aren’t expecting it, and we’ll have those assholes running all the way to Idaho before they know it.

  Two can play the dirty game.

  Speaking of Caleb and my family, they’re doing well. Adam is fattening up nicely, as is Sophie and Becca. Caleb hasn’t put weight on at all, but he’s healing two large gunshot wounds which takes a fairly substantial amount of calories and time. I’m guessing he’ll be up and around doing things normally as opposed to with that dame grampy cane in ten days or so. Then, I shall put his lazy wounded ass to work.

  Also, Chris’ arm is mending nicely, but he’ll be in a cast for some time. All those breaks are a bitch, but Doc Lindsey said it’s healing well. Chris seems really frustrated. He’s put weight back on because he can’t do shit around campus physically. I know he was pudgy before, and I shudder to see the kid fatten up again. It’ll destroy the small amount of self esteem he’s created since the end of the world.

  Strange to think that. How all this bad can make someone feel better about themselves. But, it’s a weird world, and some folks thrive under stress and pressure.

  I’m off, it’s been a long ass day. No plans yet for tomorrow. I think I’m gonna shove Otis off the bed here so I can fool around with Mallory. It’s been a few days since I got my dick wet, and I’m overdue. Feeling that itch Mr. Journal.

  -Adrian

  August 28th

  Well, the weather has appeared and fucked us in the ass. As wet as the rain is, it has definitely been a wee bit of a dry entry, if you catch my drift.

  It is monsooning.

  I am sitting in the common room of Hall E right now, looking out the window, and the rain is coming down so heavily I can’t even see the cafeteria across the way. It’s just a white haze of moisture between here and there.

  This must be the remnant of a tropical storm or hurricane coming up the coast. We don’t get many here, but boy are we catching this one. I’m really hoping that we don’t get washed the fuck away. I’m very worried about the berm wall. We don’t have grass growing on it yet, and the earth is loose. This kind of rain is going easily wash a shitload of the wall away and make a giant motherfucking mess of the ground nearby. Best part I’m thinking about… is the fact that only shovels will work to put the dirt back. We can’t just fire up the backhoe and scoop it back on top.

  Maybe we’ll get lucky though.

  Ha. Haha.

  Mmm.

  I’ve got insane cabin fever. We’ve been cooped up inside for the bulk of the last two days from the rain and wind. There’s little sense going out. Nothing is really all that pressing here, other than our sudden burst of gasoline consumption. Being inside all day and night means we’re using tons of electricity, and we’re unable to cook outside on the grills or fire pits we’ve been using. It’s all stoves, and lights for the past two days.

  As I said Blake has been the spearhead on keeping track of gas usage, and he came over, soaked head to toe about an hour ago to remind me that we need to do a gas run. He said we’re at about 60% remaining, but by the time we can make it down there, we’ll be below 50%, and that’s scary stuff really. I’m hoping that if the weather clears tomorrow, we can hit the gas stations, and restock.

  I’m kind of concerned that there will be a lot of trees down. Power lines aren’t a problem anymore, which is somewhat comforting, but we’ll still need to roll out with chainsaws to cut downed branches and cut trees apart. It mi
ght take us all day tomorrow to make it to the gas station, but a good solid trip will reset us nicely. I feel rusty, and that’s silly, but hey, I feel rusty.

  Not sure what else to talk about. I’m not sure how this storm will affect the undead. I am so hoping that we’ve killed the majority of the undead here in town, but it seems like no matter how many we put down, there’s always more around the corner. I’m sitting here wondering how many homes will have weather damage from all these high winds we’re experiencing right now.

  A few trees down here and there might poke some holes in houses, setting previously trapped dead free. I don’t think that’ll be a huge problem, but fire does concern me. We’ve had some adult strength lightning strikes here, and if we’re getting hit here, then the entire eastern seaboard is getting hit badly. Lightning starts fires, even in the rain. We could have a rather amazing amount of damage to deal with tomorrow. I’m not talking about just here, I mean all of town.

  It could blow.

  What else is going on here? Not much. Becca is well, and spending an awful lot of time in the gym working with Ryan on the hydro setup. Still not sure how I am planning on killing Ryan should something develop between him and my little sister. I’m currently leaning towards fisting him to death.

  Too much? Should I just shoot him?

  Ah man. Who am I kidding? Ryan is a decent kid. Becca is a good girl. If something happens, I’ll just throw condoms at them and hope for the best.

  That’s a much more sensible, loving Adrian right there Mr. Journal. I’m fucking cuddly now. Spreading the good cheer.

  Man I need to get the fuck out of this dorm.

  Where was I? Caleb is doing well. Very sore. No infections in either of his wounds, and I credit Doc Lindsey and her amazing cleanliness, and attention to detail. She’s done a great job at making the clinic on the first floor of the admin building a real place of healing and comfort. When I walk in there I actually FEEL like it’s a small hospital, and not a hobnob cobbled together triage. It really feels like a hospital.

  Caleb is still sleeping there, and for the most part Sophie and Adam are as well. We’ve got them a fully furnished pair of rooms on the third floor here in Hall E, but Caleb can’t really go up and down stairs for shit yet, so there’s little sense in moving him out of the clinic until he’s able to move. Lindsey said that he should be in a much better place in terms of range of motion in three or four days. If anything, us Ring boys heal fast, and Caleb has taken her assessment of his injuries as a challenge. He’ll be moving around like a gymnast in no time flat just to spite her.

  I know I would.

  I still haven’t talked to them fully about the dreams, and the dead. I don’t know why, but I have this overwhelming feeling that my family will think I am insane when I explain it to them. I mean, strangers, sure, why not. It’s a weird enough world and me saying I talk to the dead doesn’t really step up the weirdness much.

  However, Caleb and I took baths together as a kid, and liked the same girls as teenagers, and went to the same school dances too. If I sit him down and really lay it all out for him… I don’t know. I just think he’ll laugh at me, and have me committed at the closest thing to a nut ward still around.

  I know eventually I have to tell them. I’m sure by now the others here on campus are talking about it, and discussing it, and spreading my dirty family secret. By the time I work up the sack to say something, they’ll already know. Story of my life. Never afraid to run into the burning building, filled with danger, but always afraid to sit down and have that talk with someone important to me.

  I think that’s the Ring legacy. We’re never afraid to put ourselves on the line, but when it comes to our emotions… we’re cowards. Maybe I need to work on that.

  Mallory and I are doing okay. She’s definitely happier now that the salon is up and running. She’s still affectionate, the sex is still decent, and we aren’t irritating each other too much. I find she’s spending more and more time with Abby and Becca, which is good. Becca needs friends, as well as Abby. I am slightly concerned that a new Team Vagina is forming, and this one could be epic.

  Nothing against Patty, but Becca is a Ring, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. Maybe one day, when people other than you Mr. Journal read this, the Williams family name will be as relevant as the Ring name. I mean hell, we’re famous. Lol.

  No, not so much.

  I’m bored. Things are okay, it’s raining and windy outside, and I kind of feel like passing some time trying to get inside Mallory. She’s downstairs playing Stratego with Adam, which is cute. I think once that flag is captured, I’m gonna talk her into going to bed early.

  Go me.

  Tomorrow, if the weather clears, I’m going to gather a team and go outside the wall to clear the roads and check for damage. If we can, we might push for the gas station.

  -Adrian

  August 30th

  I hate my life.

  I mean, I really hate my life. Sometimes I sit back and think this is all just one giant karmic fucking joke. I never thought I was that bad an asshole, I just can’t see why the powers that be want to cornhole me on a regular basis.

  Our wall took a beating. We’ve got something along the lines of maybe 30% of entirely ripped apart by the rain and wind. It’ll take us a week to get the motherfucker put back together. Our design heavily overlooked the idea of gale force winds and downpours lasting more than 12 hours.

  This will suck balls. As I said before, we can’t just grab the backhoe and scoop all the earth up, it’s largely washed away, and spread out over a fifty foot distance, making a giant fucking mess out of the area nearby. We’ve been working steadily since the storm abated this morning trying to get the wood back upright, packed down enough so it won’t wash away again, and attempting to shovel the dirt back into the holes, and back into berm shape. We really fucking need grass to hold the earth down. Not only grass, but maybe some shrubs, or even vegetable plants. We had no root systems to shore up the earth berm, and now we’re paying the fucking price.

  Upside: there are trees down the entire length of Auburn Lake Road, so there’s damn little chance we are going to be attacked any time soon. I’m more than happy to venture a guess and say that the rest of town is just as fucked up as we are here, so that means the Outsiders should be bent over as well. I guess I should celebrate that. I’m more worried about who will dig out first, and get mobile first.

  Mike maintained hourly radio contact with us as the storm passed through. He kept us in the know on what was happening downtown, and as his play by play developed, it became clear downtown also took a beating. Fortunately, there was no lightning during the entire duration of the storm, so we had no fires to contend with, but the flooding washed out a lot of dirt and road areas I’m sure, and the wind took down a LOT of trees. We’ll be clearing out trees for some time as we move through the areas near MGR.

  It could be a few days before we get to MGR to restock them, but thankfully we’ve got their stock on hand for food and water up to about ten days, give or take. We have some time to play with. I’m just hopeful they aren’t visited by the Outsiders while we’re still dealing with our bullshit here.

  Alright so earlier today after checking the length of Auburn Lake Road on foot, we decided getting trapped on campus and fixing the damn wall was a better idea than cutting all the trees away, opening up the passage, and then having only a heavily damaged wall to protect ourselves.

  After the meager progress we made today, it might even take us more than a week to get the wall reassembled where it took the hits. Morale is a bitch right now. We had a huge uptick in smiles and happiness when we finished the main wall, and now we’re right back where we were. It’s like a massive, campus wide kick in the fucking balls. Even the women here are clutching their testicles. It’s a sad day.

  I’m exhausted. As it turns out shovels are not a thing we have a lot of. We were using aluminum and plastic snow shovels, and those don’t last, if you didn
’t know Mr. Journal. They’re great for snow, but shit for gravel and stones. The aluminum ones especially.

  I sent some of the guys out to retrieve shovels, and after a few hours of searching, they came back with three new garden shovels.

  Three.

  Zippityfuckingdoodah.

  The said it was just too slow moving on foot and too few houses out this way that we’ve already hit hard for loot. I mean that does make complete sense, it was just one more thing to piss me off. Been pissed off a lot lately.

  Campus structures took a minor ass whipping too, but not that bad. Some shutters ripped off windows, some trees blown down, branches everywhere, etc. I think we had three windows broken in various dorms, and luckily we have a large supply of spares here, so that won’t be an issue for quite some time. Yay for the little things.

  A few extra days of healing trapped in the clinic has done Caleb good. He’s much more mobile now, as I predicted, and as of this evening, he and the family are now fully moved into the third floor apartments we set up for them. I feel MUCH better having them under the same roof. I don’t know where our fire starter is, but knowing it’ll be that much harder for them to hurt my loved ones makes me feel better. Hopefully I sleep better tonight as a result.

  I’ll sleep better tonight too because I’m fucking dead. Every part of me is sore. I’ve got blisters the size of quarters on my hands from shoveling. If I had to masturbate to save my life I’d just shoot myself and cut to the chase. Faster death that way.

 

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