Zournal (Book 4): Reap What You Sow

by Merritt, R. S.

  We drove across the long bridge. I had never seen the Mississippi River before so it was pretty cool seeing it for the first time. Freakin’ thing was huge. As we finally made it across the bridge Ann pointed up ahead. There were a couple of stick figures standing around the end of the bridge by another Hummer.

  “I’m betting they are guarding the bridge. Looks like about five of them and they have the same kind of big gun like we do.” Ann said, pointing out the gun on top of the Hummer that matched ours. Unlike ours, theirs had a guy on the gun. They weren’t jumping all over the place and acting like the enemy was rolling up on them ready to fight though.

  “Keep going at this speed. I’m hoping they’ll think we’re one of theirs. Reeves, get ready to pop up on that gun and friendly fire the hell out of them.”

  “Sounds like a plan, boss.”

  The next twenty seconds felt like forever. We were getting to the point now where they’d be able to see we did not look Korean. I was betting on them having seen multiple Hummers roll through here today to have them slacking on their guard. One of them stepped into the middle of the road and made the pull over gesture at us. I told Ann to go ahead and pull over.

  “Everybody get ready. On my count let’s all pop our doors and start shooting. Reeves, focus your fire on their gunner first.”

  Ann came to a stop and the officer kept moving towards the Hummer. He seemed to hesitate finally as he sensed something was off.

  “Now!” I yelled and threw open my door and snapped some shots at the officer who was standing there staring at us. I heard the fifty on the top of our Hummer start chugging and saw the top of the other Hummer start disintegrating as pieces were blown off of it, including pieces of the gunner. Ginny had gotten completely out of the car and was spraying automatic fire towards the Korean soldiers who were now jumping all over the place trying to get behind cover. They were paying the price for committing the cardinal sin of letting their guard down in a war zone.

  Ann had gotten out at some point and was resting her arms on top of the hood of the Hummer taking shots. There really wasn’t much left to be taking shots at. Reeves had mowed over the soldiers scrambling for cover as soon as he had finished wasting the machine gunner. He’d even shot up the bodies that Ginny and I had already put on the ground. He subscribed to the ‘double tap’ theory of insurance.

  We all ran out of ammo around the same time and started reloading. We were all looking around. Ears ringing from the volume of the gunfire during the brief firefight. The Koreans looked very dead. The fifty Reeves was on had eaten away at an up armored Humvee and knocked an attack helicopter out of the air. It had done some pretty disgusting things to the human bodies it had hit. Maybe they shouldn’t have launched a Zombie virus that killed all of our family and friends then come to our country to try and steal our surviving women for lifelong rape sessions.

  We all got back in and pulled up closer to the enemy. We stripped them of weapons, ammo, and all the supplies we found in there Humvee. We noticed a bunch of empty bud light cans laying around that may have explained their sloppy ass bridge guarding. We siphoned out as much diesel as we could get and liberated a couple of big red cans full of fuel as well. Then we got back in to our ride and headed out in to the fly over states, fully intending to bring death and destruction down on as many of the enemy as we could.

  Entry 11: Arkansas Sucks

  Death and destruction was going to have to wait for a bit. We had driven about five minutes down I-40 away from the Korean checkpoint when the front right tire blew out. I wasn’t sure if it had been shot or if it was something we had run over but one second we were driving along and the next it was obvious there was an issue with the tire. There was also an indicator on the dash that Ann mentioned had been on since we had gone Zombie bowling at the on-ramp to I-40 earlier so good chance that had something to do with the tire.

  We pulled over into the emergency breakdown lane and stood around and stared at the tire. It must have been a run flat kind of system that let us keep going this long. There were visible holes and gouges in the tire. The whole vehicle was pretty beat to crap at this point but this tire had obviously seen its last days of service. Ann and Ginny let us know they’d stand guard while we figured this out. Way to set feminism back a few decades.

  We couldn’t even say anything back to them when they offered to stand guard duty since anything we said would have come out sounding like, “I’m a big baby who can’t change a tire, please never respect me.” Reeves and I walked around to the back of the vehicle where the spare tire was attached. I walked back around and opened the passenger side and started poking around in the dash board. Yes! There was a manual showing you how to do field maintenance on the vehicle. That was a good find since I was about ready for ‘Plan B’. Which was putting as much stuff in our pockets as possible and start walking.

  The directions made no sense. It took us almost two hours to finally get the tire changed. A good portion of which was spent using a knife on bolts that it turned out we had the tool for the entire time. Ann and Ginny had a great time questioning our masculinity and laughing at us the entire time. When it was done Reeves and I were sweaty, pissed off, and bleeding from small cuts all over both our hands. Ann and Ginny absolutely did not care. Ann just told me to wash my hands before I thought of touching anything inside the Hummer.

  When we’d taken off the bad tire we had found most of an arm wedged up under the wheel well. I was thinking it was a leftover from us charging the on-ramp. Reeves and I poked at it with the tire iron until it came out and then we kicked it away from the car. Reeves stared at the watch on the decomposing, mangled arm and then poked it until it mostly came off the arm. He bent down and stared at it closely. Then he had sadly turned to me.

  “The jingle was a lie. Timex does not take a lickin’ and keep on tickin. Or, at least this one didn’t.”

  I had not been in the mood to be amused at the time as I had been in the process of trying to get the lug nuts off with a Kabar and a pair of scissors. We were still about twenty minutes away from discovering the bottom of the tire iron had the exact shape in it to fit over the bolts. A discovery which I thought was going to cause either Ginny or Ann to possibly die from asphyxiation brought on by laughing too hard to control. I ignored their questions around what did we think the tire iron was supposed to be used for.

  We got back in and started the Hummer up. The tire didn’t fly off which was good. I didn’t think Ann and Ginny could have survived the ensuing laughter if the tire had rolled off the car. The light on the dash still indicated the tire had low pressure. We had seen the directions in the guide for hooking up the tire pressure sensor but the tire had ended up getting bolted on with the sensor wires too far apart and neither of us had wanted to unbolt the tire and put it back on so that the wires would reach. I opted for telling Ann the guide had said to ignore it as it may stay on for a few more days after installation. That was way easier than explaining our thinking behind not taking the tires back off and doing the job correctly. Which basically boiled down to laziness.

  Arkansas was boring. Of course, we were all good with some boring. The road was empty and the sides of the road were just vast open plains of nothingness. Figuring I-40 was one of the main arteries the Koreans were using on their push eastwards across the states we knew we needed to get off it as soon as we could. The sentries we had taken out must have someone they reported to who would eventually notice they were not reporting in. Or, another vehicle was going to drive past them and it would be pretty obvious Zombies had not killed them.

  We opted to head north as soon as possible then try to catch another highway going west to make it over the Rockies and into Portland. The last communication with the Lt had been around going to Portland to meet up with the resistance there. Now that the sat phone was a fancy paperweight we still figured it was our best hope. Worse case, we’d make it to Portland, regroup and then start heading south to cause some mayhem. Although, I r
eally need to stop tempting fate by writing things like “worse case.”

  Staring at the map while Ann drove us down the road I saw that up ahead we’d be able to jump on I-55 and head pretty much straight north. Since none of us had a ton of experience with this part of the country there wasn’t a lot of debate about it. We knew the Koreans were coming up from the San Diego area and spreading across the country from that general direction. This would seem to indicate we should go north to avoid driving straight into a large convoy of them.

  Ann swerved us onto I-55 North within the hour. We had not seen any additional Koreans in that whole time. We had not seen any Zombies either which was a blessing. I was staring at the road maps we had snagged off the dead Koreans. It did not look like we’d have a lot to worry about driving north. I didn’t see any major towns up ahead. My biggest worry was more about having enough gas for the trip. This big ass gas chugger we were driving got a whopping ten miles per gallon going downhill with a tailwind. We were at about a quarter of a tank already and I wasn’t real confident in how far we could get with the two big red jugs we had in the back.

  I had flown over the middle of the country before and remember looking down and observing long stretches of what looked like nothing. Just fields and desert and then some more fields followed by some more desert. Wash, rinse, repeat. I did not want to be stuck in the middle of that nothingness without enough diesel to get us over to the West Coast. I would at least like enough diesel in reserve to go a few hours in any direction if needed. Right now, we probably had enough for a full tank and a half with everything in the red jugs. That would last us about a state. We had several states we needed to make it across.

  If we were going to die it was going to be bloody and violent. It wasn’t going to be a long walk through the middle of nowhere until we collapsed from dehydration. I saw the exit signs up ahead indicated there was a truck stop. Excellent, they should have plenty of diesel there if we could figure out how to get it out and how to store it.

  We pulled off the exit ramp. Reeves was up in the turret cocked and loaded. Ann navigated us down and around the exit and followed the signs towards the truck stop. We pulled in and drove down the ramp towards the back of the truck stop where the diesel pumps and the trucks would be. There were dead bodies scattered around the parking lot. I had Ann pull up next to one so I could take a better look.

  The body on the ground had the familiar blue tint to it. It was an older guy. Looked like he was in the thirty to forty-year-old range. He was wearing a pair of ragged jean shorts and the remains of a tank top. Cause of death was probably the large holes in his chest that looked to have been caused by gunfire. The ground around him was covered in wet sticky looking blood. I dangled a wet wipe in to the bloody pool surrounding the body and verified the blood had not been there long enough to congeal and harden.

  I let everyone know to be on guard after what I had discovered looking at the body. I’d barely shut my door as Ann got us moving towards the pumps when a high-speed projectile struck my door. Someone was taking pot shots at us. My first thought was please god don’t let them hit another damn tire. Then I yelled into the back for Reeves to duck.

  “Way ahead of you, boss.” Reeves yelled back from the backseat where he was busy looking through the hardened windows to try and locate the shooter. More bullets started bouncing off the Hummer. I did see some muzzle flashes over by the trucks. I also saw some up the hill by the truck stop. I decided we did not need diesel this bad.

  “Guys, I’m thinking we’re getting shot at by some fellow survivors. Let’s go ahead and get out of here and try to find some diesel at the next exit. We’re not in a situation where we need to fight for it yet.”

  Ann and everyone agreed so we did a one eighty out of there and jumped back on I-55 North.

  Entry 12: Survivors Guilt

  We continued north on the interstate. I was searching desperately for the next turnoff that looked like it may have a gas station, preferably without accompanying snipers. We had plenty of fuel currently but I kept seeing us walking through the desert until we died of thirst. That vision seemed completely exhausting. We were on the highway to hell but I preferred going out in a blaze of glory over a lingering death. I saw no reason to drag it out if we could help it. I also wanted my death to mean something. Or, preferably, we’d find some way to win and all this death talk would have been pointless melodrama.

  The dash started making a binging noise so we pulled over to dump in the gas from the red jugs. The Hummer took about twenty-five gallons when it was completely empty. That gave us an effective range of about 250 miles. We had one twenty-gallon jug and one ten-gallon jug. They were both pretty empty after we filled up the Hummer. We were now in a much more serious situation as far as the need for diesel went. We also needed some more large jugs to carry the fuel in if we managed to actually find more fuel before we began walking.

  I was thinking we should start looking for any trucks that were pulled over and we could just start working on siphoning out of them. Ann pulled me out of my deep logistical thoughts by punching me in the arm.

  “Earth to Steve. Looks like a car is headed this way. What do you want us to do?”

  I ordered Reeves up in the turret. Ann got in the Hummer and got it started up. Ginny jumped in the back seat and I walked over to the passenger side and stood there with the door open so I could jump in fast if need be. I made sure I had a fresh clip in my Beretta and laid it on the seat within easy reach. I probably could have just kept it in my hand. We were not going to look very peaceable with Reeves sitting there in the turret aiming a machine gun at whoever these people were.

  They were driving two large pickup trucks. They had stopped about a half mile down the road from us and were just sitting there. I was starting to second guess myself and was thinking maybe we should just drive away quickly when the trucks started moving in our direction. They stopped again about fifty yards away from us and the passenger door on the lead vehicle opened. An older looking guy jumped down to the ground. He started walking towards us with his hands held out to his sides.

  When he got close enough to be easily heard he yelled out, “Hey, don’t shoot me. Fellow American trying to survive here. Maybe we can trade for gear or information or just be happy not shooting each other.”

  “I’m Steve. I like the part about not shooting each other. Where you headed?”

  “Well Steve, my names Paul and at the moment we’re just kind of meandering around gathering supplies and trying not to get eaten by the blue guys or shot by the yellow ones. In the interest of full transparency, I think we did shoot at you earlier back at the gas station. I ordered them to use .22s and to aim to scare you off versus killing you though. So, hopefully that makes it better. We’d assumed you were with the Koreans based on pulling up in that military Hummer.”

  “No harm, no foul I guess. We really could have used some of that diesel though. Don’t suppose you’re up for trading some of that?”

  “Absolutely, we’ll comp you a tank full since we shot at you and all. We’d really like some intel if you have any. We’re driving blind here and I’d prefer not dying if possible.”

  I thought about it. I walked around the Hummer and went and shook Paul’s hand.

  “Now that we’re friends and all, you think maybe you could have your buddy point that big ass machine gun in a different direction?”

  I smiled and waved at Reeves. Reeves shifted the barrel of the gun so that it was no longer aimed directly at Paul. Paul visibly relaxed. The old dude must be pretty hard core to have been able to walk towards us with that big gun pointed at him the whole time. Especially knowing they had just bounced rounds off our car and chased us away from the fuel we’d been trying to get. I still felt safe knowing that while Reeves had relaxed the aim on the weapon Ginny probably had him dead to rights and I assumed Ann had her AK ready to go if need be.

  “You want to invite the rest of your crew over?” I asked Paul.


  He turned around and waved for the trucks to pull on up. One was a big blue crew cab Nissan Titan and the other was a smaller red Ford F-150. Both of them had some random bullet holes in them and were banged up pretty good, as was to be expected from any vehicle that had been driven for over thirty minutes in this new normal. Both truck beds were packed tight with supplies. They had a whole row of fuel containers in the back of the Ford.

  The trucks stopped and the occupants started piling out. There were two girls who were a bit older than Ginny and a lady who looked like their mom. All of them were carrying weapons with the familiarity that comes with having survived the apocalypse out on the open road. A big, scary looking guy got out of the Titan and opened the back door for a lady who reminded me of Sophia from that old show the Golden Girls. As they all walked up I waved towards the Hummer to let my crew know it was cool to lower their guard and come on over. I knew one of them would stay on over watch to keep an eye on our perimeter while the rest of us focused on evaluating this new threat.

  I went ahead and introduced our party, including pointing at Reeves who had chosen to stay back and stay on the gun in case we needed to light up someone’s life. Once I had finished Paul started introducing his group.