Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 5): Wrath

by Chris Philbrook

  I introduced them to Patty, Gilbert, and Gavin, and they were thrilled to meet new people that weren’t bible thumping baby factory running Christians. I believe the expression is “thick as thieves.” Seriously fifteen minutes into our collective conversations and it was apparent everyone was not only going to get along, but get along smashingly. Remember that whole discussion we had about them not being able to come to the campus to live? Yeah that got abandoned. They’ve more or less earned an open invite to move somewhere closer whenever they want.

  We didn’t need to butter them up with a sweet deal trade to get them to consider working with us, but we brought stuff for them (I owed them some .357 for the moose meat already), and we really wanted them to try and make another trade with the Adams Farm so we could have them ask some interesting questions. In the additional endeavor of making sure the Edwards family knew we were people of our word, we made sure to trade them something anyway. A gesture of good faith.

  Gilbert and I have had extensive discussions, and we have been of the mind now that if the Edwards clan can trade once with the Adams clan, and say that they’ve found other people who can trade, we’ll have an “in” to walk up to the trading post. Otherwise, we’re coming in unvetted, and thus are much more likely to receive a cold or false first impression.

  When we went over that idea with the others, everyone else agreed it was sensible. So our trade yesterday with the Edwards was to set up a second trade today between them and the Adams. We were successful in both endeavors. Diplomacy like a motherfucka.

  Imagine that. Success. Mmm... I can almost taste it. Success. Makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I feel dirty just saying it. Should wash my mouth out with soap.

  ….And goodbye strange and uncomfortable tangent on mediocre, theoretical success.

  The Edwards family needs a vehicle big time, and we offered to repair that issue for them. We’ve got plenty of spare operational vehicles on campus that are literally doing nothing for us. They’re taking up space more than anything. We told them we had a small SUV spare in running condition, and if they were willing to help us secure a face to face trade with The Farm, we’d be more than happy to give it to them for the trouble.

  They damn near died on the spot. Of course we don’t have the spare fuel to keep them in gas forever, but with a few of our small gas cans, they’ll at least be able to move around, and get the hell out if the shit should hit the fan. Anyone who has ever lost their license to drive, or had their car in the garage for a stretch knows exactly what we’re talking about here. Once you get those wheels back, oh boy… Freedom.

  They agreed to make a visit to the Adams farm today, which they did after we left them with some of the trade items we knew the farm would want. Most of it was stuff we had spare. Light bulbs, toothpaste, etc. It was a token gesture from us to them to show we had good trade bait, and were serious about starting a relationship. While the trade went down we established double sniper hides in the two places we’d been using already. Blake and Patty were at one, Gavin and I were at the other. If anything went bad, then we had 360 degree line of sight. Thankfully the trade went down clean through the scopes, and after we exfil’d we met them back at their house a little after noon today. They were ear to ear smiles.

  Larry and Candace said that old man Adams was happy to hear more folks were out and about in the town. We sort of knew that they didn’t go out much, so it seemed that this news was genuine news to them. Candace made a fairly large deal of the fact that we’re trying hard to make the town safe again, and we’d managed to reacquire a lot of good items for trade. Larry said they were very happy to get the items we gave them, and in return they offered up some fresh milk, which is now sitting downstairs in the fridge. It’s good, about the same as Lenny’s milk.

  Everything went well enough for them to invite us back for a more thorough trade at their farm stand on the 21st. They gave our trade proxies a more robust set of items that they wanted us to potentially bring as well. From the looks of it all, we should be able to fill all of their requests. We won’t of course. I don’t want to come across as being resource wealthy. If they think we have extra to trade of everything, they’ll either expect it all the time and rely on us for it, or they’ll attempt to gouge us thinking that we have spare everything.

  This Adams fellow might claim to be a man of the cloth, but I’ve read quite a few history books, and some of the worst people this world has ever had walk on it did their deeds in the name of their God(s). I’ve got good reason to think this guy is dangerous to my people and I. He is apparently hoarding pregnant women. That’s sketchball bullshit in my book. But until we get one of us face to face with him, we’re giving him the benefit of the doubt, and we’ll keep things close to our chest.

  Gilbert and Patty will go with the Edwards family on the 21st for the trade. They’re older, seemingly wiser, and represent weakness. Gilbert is also an excellent judge of character, and if he vouches for these people, then I trust his instincts. He hasn’t led us astray before, there’s no reason to think why he’d do it now.

  In the meantime, we are lying relatively low and pushing forward on our other plans as best as possible. We are down Ollie, so Lindsey is on extra duty helping Melissa tend to the chickens, and make sure the crops are watched and maintained. Fortunately it’s been damp and drizzly, so watering the field hasn’t been an issue. Yay for small favors.

  Because we may get the “oh shit” message at any point from Westfield we’ve decided to keep things on the down low. We don’t want to be broken up over multiple areas in dangerous places should we need to up and walk to go to their aid.

  Gavin will be observing The Farm tomorrow to ensure things are fine there. I suspect he will return with zero intel, as has been the case all along. In the interest of continuing to be productive, we’ve decided to tackle some serious on campus projects so we’re all here. There’s no desperate need to clear houses, or attempt to wade into the masses of zombies that appear to be growing again. It’s like the calm before the fucking storm with those things. Blake has decided he will tackle the HRT/plow project.

  I’m tired. I feel like I’ve been rambling over and over for days about nothing. Otis has been driving me nuts at night, crawling all over me. Oh shit that reminds me. The other night I woke up late to take a piss. I was half asleep, but when I came back into my bedroom and started to face plant back into bed, I noticed something small moving in the grass down below.

  I kind of came to, and focused the eyes, and lo and behold, it was another cat. I watched it slink from tree to tree, then dart after something. A mouse maybe? I can’t recall exactly, but I think that’s the first cat I’ve seen since June. I think so. I wonder if Otis is getting up in the windows and watching his more wild counterparts play outside and night, and that’s why he’s driving me nuts?

  Got me.

  So yeah, aside from all the fucking zombies, I feel like we might be seeing some success in our near future. Huzzah and shit.

  -Adrian

  May 21st

  So much to write about Mr. Journal. I am totally fucking exhausted here. I have half a mind to just… say fuck it and go to bed, but I know if I pull the covers up over my face, I’ll just sit here like a bump on a log wishing I’d written all this shit down while it’s relatively fresh in my memory. Then I won’t be able to sleep, and I’ll get up, and do it anyway.

  Obviously, I am still alive, which means our quasi confrontation/meeting at The Farm went well on some levels. Actually, on many levels, but there’s always something to make it fucked up. I’ll save that for last. Gotta tantalize you Mr. Journal.

  Ollie returned to us from Westfield yesterday with a bag full of mixed news. Obviously he’s been with his dad at the big farm, helping him taking care of things. He said the farm itself is well, moving right along with no issues, and he said his dad was terrific too. A little frazzled from the new people driving by the farm on the regular, but thankfully things haven’t e
scalated to violence yet.

  On a similar note, the signs that Mike and Lisa have placed around town there seem to be working to bring folks in. I guess they were visited by about a dozen folks in a few small groups asking for food and water, and they’ve dodged some pretty scary situations as a result. We don’t want folks to starve, and we don’t want to fight folks, so anything we (they) can do that achieves both agendas is awesome.

  Ollie spent last night with Melissa, and headed back to be with his dad this evening after we returned from the meeting at the Adams farm. Melissa was… sad. Ollie too. They’re so sweet together it’s disgusting. On a similar note, I was sort of hoping to get some kind of love letter, or Hustler confession from Mallory via him. But… zilch. Maybe she and I aren’t going to be as regular a thing as my penis is hoping for. Oh well. I’ll take what I can get. Ollie plans on returning on the 23rd. Hopefully everything is safe and sound back in Westfield while he’s there.

  Yesterday Gavin went out solo to do recon on the farm. I had him go to the area behind the farm’s field and observe from that direction because there was a much better line of sight into the rooms where we’d seen the pregnant women. If Blake’s significant other is about to pop, I kinda wanted to increase our chances of getting eyes on. Gavin said downtown was infested with the undead, and in retrospect, it was really dumb to send him out there alone. I don’t know who else could’ve gone though. Patty maybe, but that just seems weird to me. Water over the dam I suppose. Gavin was fine.

  He did say the downtown area had filled up yet again yesterday, which tells me there has GOT to be something leading them in here from somewhere. Shit, never mind what happened today. Is it more survivors dragging them back into town? Are these escapees from buildings that have opened up somehow? Is something calling them home to roost? Fucked if I know. Now would be a great time to get one of those awesome dreams the fill me in on the shit that’s confusing me.

  Anyone listening?

  Alright. So this morning we set out early to meet the Edwards family at their home prior to heading to The Farm for the trade. We never set a specific time to meet with the Adams folks, so there was no rush, but I am glad we left early. As I said above, Gavin reported downtown was bad, and sure as shit it still was.

  We went with three vehicles, which was a good idea. Myself and Abby in the HRT, Gilbert and Patty in the Tundra, and Gavin and Blake in the Dodge. Things were fairly normal until we reached the area the police/fire station is at. The undead were two or three deep in strange knotted groups covering the road, almost spaced out far enough to wind our way in between without having to hit them to get through. I radioed it back to the others and after stopping for a second to think about it, we pushed forward, moving side to side around the groups.

  Remember back when all those pricks wandered onto campus carrying the books? You remember how they didn’t do shit to us until we fired on them? It was a lot like that. Until we were mixed into the patches with undead on the sides, they did nothing but shuffle their feet like we weren’t even there. Once we were in their midst though… it was like a light switch was thrown. They all turned simultaneously and stared at us with those creepy fucking eyes, and then collapsed on the sides of the trucks like we were fresh meat. The pit of my stomach dropped like a rock.

  Abby called out, “Floor it!” on the radio and I did just that. I wasn’t about to wait for them to get up under us somehow and fuck us over. The big old bitch jumped, and I cut the wheel sharply right at the last large patch of undead in the road. They were obliterated by the huge bumper and grill of the truck. I wished we’d had that plow blade Blake is working on. Two or three of the fuckers were smashed right into the front of the damn truck so forcefully they were lodged there, and when we finally broke free, we had to stop for a minute, brain them with the fucking halligans, and then pry them off the truck like undead roadkill.

  Mercifully, we made it out of that fucked up ambush as cleanly as possible. The tail vehicles did have some trouble. Blake and Gavin in the tail truck had to roll the windows down to shoot off a few undead that managed to latch onto the truck. They had three zombies manage to go ass over tea kettle over the side of the truck and get into the bed, which is something I never thought would happen. I guess Gavin opened the slider window and used his sidearm to kill them while we were flooring it out. Messy business. Definitely makes me not want to go back downtown for some time.

  I think we made it to the Edwards house to meet Larry and Candace at around 10:30 or so, which was at least 45 minutes longer than it should’ve taken. Fucking zombies. Candace was out in the yard like a boss keeping watch, and she waved and greeted us up. We parked the trucks in the yard and Gilbert, Patty and I went to their trailer to go over the details. While we were talking, Blake ad Gavin left with the two trucks, drove back around the side roads, and made their way to our two sniper positions in the woods.

  Sort of surprisingly, the Edwards folks were calm, and almost excited. It seems like a contradiction. Maybe I should say they didn’t strike me as being nervous. Like, “Hey, yeah, this’ll be great, I hope it works out! Let’s do this!”

  We told them what items we’d brought, and what our agenda was as far as learning some things about these people. As we said to them before, there was a huge amount of bad rumors floating around our camp about them, and we really wanted to let Gilbert and Patty do their work on trying to gently coax tidbits free.

  We did not tell them that if things were to get weird (read: violent or potentially dangerous), we had shooters on sight, and that we were fully ready to engage them with punishing fire at a moment’s notice. Now, as you might imagine, that could’ve changed their largely jovial attitude regarding the whole meeting. Better to tell them later. See: ignorance is bliss.

  Here’s where shit gets weird, and weird again. (read: strange, and otherworldly, followed by aggravating, and potentially dangerous)

  I held down the fort at the HRT with Abby. Blake and Gavin were already in position by then, and Gilbert and Patty walked on foot to The Farm with Larry and Candace. We knew these assholes had enough smarts to use walkies, so we skipped on the previously used idea of leaving a walkie running hot so we could all overhear. If they tabbed through the channels and heard us broadcasting the whole meeting, it could jeopardize everything.

  I was in the dark. We went radio silent running through all the channels, and with no scope or LOS from the trucks, I had to sit there, and wait for them to come back. You wanna talk about aggravating? Fuck my life. I am reminded distinctly of when Kevin and I would get frag-o’s in Iraq to get our shit together to move, and we’d get all set up, only to have the Op cancelled at the last second. All dressed up, and nowhere to go. Horrible.

  Point me at a problem, and let me shoot it.

  It was precisely 2 hours and 53 minutes before they returned. Subtract time for the walk down the road, and we’re looking at an hour of face time with the pastor. Gilbert and Patty were smiling, and judging by the lack of blood over anyone, it had gone down well.

  Gilbert looked at me and gave me one of his ancient thumbs up for approval. He didn’t want to say too much right there in front of Larry and Candace. Here’s what he said there, which was kinda telling, if you get my drift.

  “Well, Adams seems like a good man. His people seem like good people too. Little bit too into the church thing for my taste, but to each their own.”

  “What about the women? What about Blake’s girlfriend?” I asked him.

  “Well, he says that God sent him a message. He says that they had dreams about where to find these people, and lo and behold, after every dream, they followed up on it and found one of the ladies with child. He also claims that the girls here who have gotten pregnant since arriving, have conceived immaculately. I don’t quite buy that, I think someone is getting some hanky-panky and not being upright about it, but the man seems pretty convinced of it.”

  “Dreams?” I raised an eyebrow.

  Gilbert nodded
, knowing what I was getting at, “Yeah son, dreams.”

  So maybe they are good after all. Maybe they’re seeing the same dreams I am. Maybe they’re being guided, or informed, or whatever just like I am too? I am strangely relieved by this news. I mean, it’d been weird if they had some quasi believable cover story or something, but this is… very real to me. No one can understand what has happened to me in my sleep those few times, and how those dreams burn right into you. If he’s having the same kind of dreams I am, then I need to believe him, or I essentially say to myself, Adrian, you are bat shit crazy.

  Incidentally, what exactly is crazy about guano? I mean, it’s shit. Shit is gross, not necessarily crazy. If bats crapped neon green floating turds that spoke to you, then I’d totally understand that expression. Wow. Tangent.

  Gilbert went on to explain that Blake’s woman Kim accepted the entrance to The Farm for protection’s sake, and when she realized she was pregnant with the kid, she elected to stay behind. Moving out and about town pregnant with Blake as her only protection risked the life of her child. She thought it was best that Blake be told to leave, and that she wanted no more contact with him. He has a temper after all.

  I don’t like the idea of me being bat shit crazy, so I’m gonna go on faith, and go on Gilbert and Patty’s opinion here. The Farm is legit. It all makes sense. If he’s having dreams like mine... then the pregnant ladies (immaculate conception and all) are not that far out of the question. Kim’s story is believable, especially in the light of the dream thing too.

  I’m getting ahead again.

  So we shot the shit about the basic meeting while Gavin and Blake made their way back to us. Gavin was normal, and Blake was kind of uppity, and pushy. It took a Gilbert stare to get him to let it go for the moment. Gilbert assumed command, and invited the Edwards family back to our place for an evening cookout on campus tomorrow.

  I was a little taken aback by the sudden and enormous gesture of hospitality. Later on Gilbert and Patty both said it was due to the few hours of talk on the walk over and back. Candace was good people, Larry was good people, and their kid Tucker was a good shit. Just solid people, with usable skills.