Radio Silence

We switched vehicles. We came across a hybrid suv. We shoved all of our shit in it and us. We piled in like sardines.

As soon as we loaded in and was secured I pushed the gas pedal headed in the direction of the map given to us. There were buttons on the steering wheel and somehow I pushed the 'seek' button for the radio. A lot of white noise and right before I shut it off Avery screamed to turn it back on.

"Wait! Dont you hear that? Turn it up!" She was clawing her way to the front.

"Calm down! Im turning it up!" Oliver pushed the volume button a dozen times and we all froze, I almost slammed on breaks. We collectively held our breaths as we heard a womans voice through the speakers.

"Hello ZombieLand! O if only we were in a cheeky zombie comedy instead of this shithole deadhead bullshit! Hear that FCC? How about drop a charge on me? Yeah... well... [long pause] Three years ago my phones would have lit up with angry bastards and I would be saying my last two seconds on air before being burned at the stake. O, well. Fuck'em. Okay... as always, I broadcast over a hundred miles. If anyone is here. Give me a call, I think most major carriers are down but maybe a landline is still working? If youve got fingers write these digits down! If youre a zombie... uhh... go bang your head on a wall until true death comes a calling!"

As she rattled off the numbers a scramble for a pen happened collectively. Oliver happened upon one in the center console and scribbled the numbers on the front of a religious pamphlet that was by the pen. Luckily the dj said the numbers over a dozen times. Unanimously we decided to try every phone we passed by as this phone became heavier and heavier in my pocket. Finally, I told the group about my phone. How I see a bar or two flicker in and out but I havent tried to call anyone since three months after my exclusion in Greensboro.

I reached in my pocket and dialed the number. By this time we had pulled over and were standing beside the vehicle my fingers trembled as I heard the pulse and then click of a connection. I could hear the DJ in the background scramble to answer the phone. 

"Hello? Hello? Hello? I can hear you breathing!" The dj was yelling.

I took in a deep breath and Avery screamed at me to respond.

"Hi." My voice broke. I could hear my echo in the suv.

"Where are you? Are you safe?" The DJ insisted.

"Safe. Yes. We're safe."

"We? There are more of you? Look-- im going to cut on some music and give you directions here."

The music startled me. We loaded back into the suv and turned the music down. I repeated the address and directions while Oliver wrote them down. It was an hour away. We are nearing our destination.

Let's see how this goes.

Fog.

Warmth has returned. It was frozen before. Ice. Snow. Sleet. Rain... so much rain.

Now fog. So much fog.  The fog masks us as much as henders us.

We were able to get out of there. The ihop. We left yesterday. We slept in a barn last night and woke up to fog. We crossed a bridge yesterday. A very long bridge. Abandoned cars and remains still scattered around. Someone had been there before us and cleared a path. That is comfort. Knowing there is someone else out there.

We had found a large pack of supplies. It looked like an abandoned military distribution tent. It was set up in front of a Wal-Mart right down the road from the ihop we had held up in for weeks. There was a note in a ziplock bag tucked in some of the food. It was directions. It could be a trick... we are aware... but we must try. We have to try.

Few

Its been months. We finally made it. A much colder climate. We went north. North. North. We stayed away from snowy states and large cities.

We are back in North Carolina. Rednecks and small town America. Its so cold the shamblers move in slow motion. We set up in an ihop. The gas stove provides heat.

We have only been here for a few weeks. Its so nice to have companionship.

Out of so many we are now few. Maybe we will find more survivors soon. We leave notes on walls and on buildings. We are going to brave a store soon. Amazingly some stuff has been left. Our recon provided good info.

We are few but enough. We are enough.

Zombies hate rain.

Quiet.

Lots and lots of rain.

Then quiet.

Benny says it might have been a hurricane. Zombies hate the rain. They are like deer, they find a sheltered place and stay there until its over.

During the heavy downpour, day three, we decided it was safe to [quietly] reside in my living quarters of the apartment since the rain would muffle us anyway. We were able to peek through the blinds and see only one visible zombie. It is possible he squeezed under the gate or got pushed over the top. In a herd its just like a mob of angry people. Some shamblers get pushed into crowd surfing or trambled into immobility.

We were all so happy to be out of that stinky attic. With the two bedrooms and two full baths and a decent sized laundry room-- we were grateful to be out of each other's space.
This morning we awoke to a clear sky, crisp air and moans and groans that seemed right at the door. Luckily I had put the chicken and barbed wire to make going up the stairs almost impossible for the walkers to get up here. We had reinforced it before hiding in the attic. You can never be too careful. We peeked through the window and saw four zombies scratching the air in our direction. The air had cleared and our subtle noises of being awake had drawn them to us. We hd added two more "hurtles" to the staircase. The one closest to the top was the tallest and would have to be removed at least partially before if we were to melee the zombies who were actively drawing more attention to us. One was at the bottom hurtle and the others were at the second.

After some debate we decided to take them out by arrows, at a distance, instead of breaking down our last defenses. We also hope that the stench will mask us now that the air is so clean. One shambler is happenstance, four is a break in the gate or surrounding fences.

The biggest stretch of wooden fence is directly behind my dwelling but we can only see so much within the stairs/building. The metal gate is least likely where the breech happened. We still have a lot of sunlight so within the hour we are finding a way to recon without removing the hurdles on the stairs. The previous owners lack mountain climbing gear but we are thinking of just scaling around the larger hurtle and doing the rug climb over the rest. Leaving isn't the issue.... its a quick return we are worrying about.

I have volunteered myself for the recon and Oliver wants to join me. I think we will just have to do the slow decent and if need be retreat to another building to draw the dead away from the living. It helps that Oliver and I trust each other and we work well as a team. John wants to come too but I don't think this is a job for big numbers just yet. If we have to reclaim the entire complex it will be easier with more people later. This is part suicide mission, part territory dependence. We have a home here.

We will not give it up so easily.

Helicopter Herd

I snuck out this morning. Right as the sun climbed up over the tallest trees. I scaled the fence and landed on my feet on the opposite side. Glancing around and steadying my nerves I notice only one visible zombie and he was on a balcony in the apartments across the street. He too was soaking in the sunrise. If he had held a cup of coffee in a hand it wouldve been picturesque. Instead his head was tilted toward the sky and his entire body seemed shifted to one side in an unnatural manner.

I kept low and scampered along the edge of the field peppered with skinny trees. I paused when I noticed the small body of a child sitting at a picnic table on the edge of the playground. It was slumped over, motionless. The ripped up, dirty clothes instantly reminded me this was no longer a child but a mindless ghoul. Kid zombies are the worst. No matter how decayed they seem to be they remain more limber and agile than the adult counterparts. There seemed to be far more children undead because people can't see past their small faces into their milky undead eyes.

My first experience with the undead was a small child. The grisly scene in the hotel I worked at pre-apocalypse flashed behind my eyelids with each nervous blink. My body ached and my jaw clinched. My nervous system was on overdrive. My feet pointed themselves back in the direction of the gated apartments.

No. I can do this. I quickly and quietly leveled out my crossbow and squinted to get a better grasp of depth. With a slow exhale my arrow whizzed through the air and sunk deep into the skull of the small shambler. She barely flinched. I waited a beat. Zombies tend to travel in packs like elephants or stray cats. I slowly took in the horizon and when I was satisfied  there wasn't any other undead I made my way over to retrieve my arrow. As I pulled the arrow out I heard the moans coming from around the corner. A fence and a house blocked my vision from my position. I slowly moved to where I could see around the blockage without giving my position away. There was a young looking shambler pushing a baby stroller down the middle of the road. Two more children zombies were sitting together, mouths open, staring into the sun. A bigger male zombie was bumping, full bodied, into a garage door a few doors over. I did a few glances behind me and noticed the little girl had fallen backwards off the bench of the picnic table. Her body stiff from sitting for so long made her finger straighten out and point in the direction of the sky.

I looked back in front of me to see all the zombies look in the same direction at once. Toward the sky, facing true north. They heard it before I did. A helicopter. Low flying. Fuck.

I doubled back, quickly. I wasn't too concerned with making noise because the helicopter was moving very slow and creating much more noise than I was capable. By the time I had got back within the gates everyone was on top of the perch with binoculars.

We are split 50/50. Some think we should chase it others think we should barricade ourselves for the herd that is most likely to follow the noise past our little homestead. I voted to barricade and be smart. Jeremy, Davis and Krista on the other hand... they jumped in Jeremy's truck with their bug out bags and drove off into the distance.

I estimated we had an hour, if we were lucky, before the herd reached us. We would be lucky if it doesn't rip down our barricades. There has been estimation among us that a herd could apply enough pressure to bring down a house... just by pushing and bumping up against it to get past it. After much quick debates we are now held up in my attic. I had some food stored up here already and the group each brought more supplies with them. We have a chemical bucket toilet and a lot of naps are being taken by all to help curb the crazies. We can hear the shuffle of feet and the moaning. We all are wearing ear plugs and speak by writing letters to each other. We are hoping the gate holds. This has got to be how it feels while waiting out a vicious tornado. We have planned on staying in this tiny attic for a week and then moving down into my actual apartment for a few more weeks before actually accessing the possible damage. I'm on edge about being with an infant. Even the smallest amount of noise could turn the herd towards us.  I would hate to kill a baby.... but its my life or theirs. I will always choose me. I keep thinking about the hummer I had commandered. A couple days ago I had moved it just beyond the fence closest to my apartment. I purposely moved it about an hour hike from the apartments toward the highway that should be a feasible escape. The hummer has six months of food supply in it and it already had some water stored in it as already from when it was meant for the military. I had the vehicle its self stored in a very unnoticeable location. I had already stashed random locations with food and water along the way. If I need to cut ties and bolt I have the means to do so. Oliver has been hovering over me with John closely in tow. John and Avery have apparently become a couple at some point. How did I never notice that before?

Krista, Jeremy and Davis are assumed dead at this point.

We have a very small vent we are using to keep peeking out to see if we should run or wait it out. I won't be able to charge this phone with my solar charger in this hot attic. I will try to check in often until then. I shut it off in between posts for obvious reasons... I only dream of this phone ringing and it being help. O, if only.

Together

I keep telling myself all of this rain is a good thing. I keep telling myself to break out of isolation. I've rebuilt walls that had been removed.

I physically cringe when I see Benny give Lilly any intimate gesture.  Isabelle told me they held a secret wedding ceremony to make it official. They are still less gross than Krista and Davis. Davis is a close friend but making out with Krista in front of the group is inconsiderate. Krista has always been a selfish bitch but I never expected this from Davis.

Oliver stopped by with some arrows he had made out of various materials around the apartment complex. He brought them over as a conversation starter. During training each week he and I had taken up crossbow practice. Not too many were interested in it. Avery, Benny's adopted eldest daughter, had started training with us as well.

Benny had found Avery held up in the apartment they sleep in. Benny and his family use to live in a house a couple hours away. They had lost a wife and four kids in the journey to these apartments. With all the loss they had decided to make this gated housing work. Avery just happened to be in the first apartment they had decided to clear. She had held herself up in the attic and was on day four without food and barely had any water left. There was a zombie in the apartment with her she had been evading... her own mother.

Benny and the wives took her in. She was 12 when that happened. On her thirteenth birthday, just weeks later Benny gave her a hunting knife to help protect herself. Now, two years later, Avery fights with her entire everything. She hasn't left the gate in years but she has taken care of some walkers within the gate during initial clean up and Avery has even gotten a few right outside the gate. She says every shambler has her mothers face and she can't stand to relive that again. It makes it easier, she says.

Anyway, Oliver brought over these arrows and we discussed the group. It turns out Oliver and Krista were a live-in couple before this but had been on the outs months before the infection hit. They stuck together even though the romance was long over. John is his younger brother. Krista saved John's life by deciding to get John from his middle school after calling Oliver and realizing he couldn't get to John himself. Oliver was a first year lawyer in a big building in Downtown Chicago. Krista was a bar-ista at a local Brew and Booze joint, closer to the school and farther out of town. Ever since then Oliver felt obligated to help her survive. John had a cellphone on him so in the chaos Oliver was able to notify John of his impending get away car.

Oliver got his first taste of killing  the undead as he ascended the stairs. His hard briefcase as his weapon and his love of running fueling his escape. It took him twelve hours but he made it to Krista and John at a campground they would vacation with every summer with John. They had stolen an RV from the campground and came across Jeremy and Kroger at a gas station and decided to group up. They just drove and drove in a convoy until the RV bit the dust.  Then they continued to drive until gas became more bountiful than food. Avoiding big buildings was becoming more difficult to do if they were going to find a decent amount of food for everyone in the group. They were down to rationing a can of food amongst five people once a day. They were starving. They had stopped at the gas station at the end of the street hoping to find food but instead they spotted our gated apartments and as a group decided it was time to scavenge more houses for food.

As they drove by our place they spotted Cam and Zach playing soccer and decided to check us out.

Oliver and I talked for hours. He ended up crashing on the couch and I am now typing this up and watching his chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

I can't help but feel comfort in the presence of another being. Together is the way it has to be.

Music

I miss music.

I never even realized how quiet it is. Well, as quiet as moans and screams in the middle of the night can be.

I guess I never was able to slow down long enough to notice. For the most part being quiet is a lifestyle these days. The kids even know what level of "not so quiet" they are allowed. The baby is nearly smothered to death with attention to keep her quiet. Everyone here keeps a mellow level of noise. When we get angry at each other it turns into an assertive whisper rather than yells. At first I liked it but now... now I'm just bored.

Is it allowed to be bored during the apocalypse? I guess this place has gotten me feeling safe and pillowy. Well, okay, there was a snag with the girls not too long ago but that was exciting in hindsight. It did get us all paranoid that since it happened basically under my nose and didn't hear it that maybe these apartments are too insulated. We all are required to sleep with our windows just barely cracked so we don't let the "human smell" out. We bury our human waste in a pit and try not to leave anything outside that has been recently used by us. (Cups, silverware, kids toys, etc) We try to make this place look deserted as possible. We don't want anyone to jump us in the middle of the night thinking they can take us over. That is why we have overnight watch. Those on overnight patrol can't even kill a zombie until morning if they don't seem to be of immediate danger to us.

We now have TWO people on shift at night. During the day while everyone is around we seem to have a better span of watching out for the shamblers but since craziness happened on the backside of the place we now have someone perched on my stoop every night. I just happened to be in the middle far back. Lucky me, right? I have to get use to a lot of new noises. I try to take as many shifts as possible just to give my space back. I'm becoming nocturnal. My night vision is much better and the sun beats down on me during the day like I'm a vampire. I still try to manage to meet for "community dinners" and lunches and the like. I have to show my face. I have to play normal. Sometimes it doesn't feel like I'm faking it but other times it's all I can do to not chop everyone up into little pieces and feed them to the hungry idiots outside of these gates.

Davis says I'm punishing myself. He says I shouldn't punish myself. It's not my fault, he says. But it is my fault. If Buffy and I hadn't started what we did she wouldn't have been out and about. I put her in the line of fire. I keep reminding myself is being around other humans is the key to surviving this. I don't want to become feral again. We all need companionship... no matter on what level. I guess Davis has stepped in as a close friend. We talk the most. Or at least he's the one I talk to the most out of the group. We can speak freely. It started when he came over to talk about his daughters. He sobbed. I watched a much other man cry into his hands like a little injured kid. Ever since then we've had a weird air around us. It's like our energies are linked-- if that makes any sense. It's not romantic by any stretch but we definitely have something going on that we didn't before. Lilly has noticed and has become more attached to Benny. I see their marriage crumbling before my eyes and it seems so normal. Even though there are zombies nipping at our heels there is still time for married-life qualms and secrets.

I keep telling Davis that I wouldn't mind telling Lilly. To save his marriage. I would take the blame for both daughters to save the angst and just clear the air. That I would take the heat. He refuses. He doesn't want me to possibly be kicked from the group. I tell him that it wouldn't happen that way because if I was the one bitten one of them would've killed me before I turned. It's the agreement. No suffering, no questions... just whack.... death. Real death.

Davis has started taking up with Krista. Both he and Lilly are doing the post apocalyptic divorce. The rings had been long taken off. In the beginning people were chopping off fingers of others to get to precious stones that are more worth paperweights these days. Anyone with sense removed all jewelry and either stored it safely or tossed it to the thieves before they could get close enough to cause harm. Our jewelry and social standard is what weapons you are carrying and how many. Instead of earrings it's a knife. Instead of diamonds it's a bullet belt. Instead of lavish necklaces it's a pick axe.

We are still held by the the same standards society has set up for us, just different. No one has really batted an eye at the adjustment. Krista has moved in with Davis and Lilly is a new sister wife. Since I've been sleeping through most days to me it seemed to happen simultaneously. Jeremy is annoyed about Krista but knows not to mess with Davis since he is a "founder". As a whole we feel that fighting amongst ourselves is a sure way to die in the teeth of our common enemy.