Joel shot another shape and then Roz fired her shotgun, blowing a hole in the middle of a Z.
“Shit! Zulu’s everywhere! Go go go!” Joel said, and we did just that.
We hauled ass, Joel weaving between fences and houses as we tried to keep up. My twisted foot was a constant shriek of pain, but it was better than the alternative.
We broke through a bunch of dried up shrubs and were on the other side of the house we’d just left. Roz tapped Joel and pointed at a single story home right next to it. The place was darker than fortress and as we drew closer I realized why. Boards had been nailed to the inside of the windows. The door was shut but writing was spray-painted onto it.
“Looters will be shot by well-armed occupants.”
Well, hell. That had been our trick at Fortress. I guess advertising wasn’t such a good idea. Someone must have waited for us to leave and then moved in on our territory. Voices. Now I knew I’d heard them. Now they were in our home. I had a brief fantasy of Joel using his assault rifle with some kind of scope that can see through walls to take out the sons of bitches.
We moved into the open, but a shaped drifted near the front of the house and then stopped to stare at the moon. The figure swayed back and forth. Joel lifted his AR but I waved him off.
Another shape came into view and stood next to the first. The man wore a ripped t-shirt and nothing else. His legs hung with grey slack skin. The girl wore what was once a white dress. She was tiny and one arm flopped against her side when she lurched.
I lifted my wrench and pointed. Roz got the idea and produced a huge knife with a serrated edge.
I leaned over and whispered to Joel, “Cover us.”
Joel nodded, pointed, and drew his finger across his neck. He then put his finger to his lip and blew gently.
Roz headed straight toward the man, leaving me the girl. I would have cut Roz off but I couldn’t walk fast enough. I ‘hmphed’ and advanced with her.
We were a few feet away when the guy turned. Roz had the knife raised and was about to drive it into his skull. The girl didn’t see me, so when the man surprised us I changed tactics and hit him across the head. Roz turned on me and I thought she was going to drive the knife into me.
The guy fell to the side but his foot spasmodically kicked out and tangled with Roz’s legs. They both went down, and the girl in the white dress, seeing her opportunity, leaped on top of Roz. Roz pushed her up by the neck, but when I swung, the girl rolled to the side and my blow sailed over both of them. The girl snarled as she tried to get back on top of Roz, but Roz was having none of that. She came up in a crouch and drove the blade into the girl’s chest.
Blood gushed from the Z’s mouth. The knife got stuck, so I leaned over, aiming carefully this time, and crushed the girl’s head with the wrench.
Together we staggered into the house and Roz quietly closed the door behind us. There was a thick metal bar in the hallway. She and Joel picked it up and dropped it into slots on either side of the entry way. Then she showed us a huge dresser that she and Joel pushed against the door.
Roz held up a hand, so we waited. She marched down the hallway and looked into rooms. She came back and moved into the kitchen and then the living room, training the shotgun on every corner. She finally came back and ushered us in.
We staggered into what had been the living room and Roz collapsed on a couch.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again, asshole,” she said.
I looked around in confusion. Me?
“What?”
“I had that shit, man. You didn’t have to get in my way.”
“Yeah, Creed. Fucking jerk,” Joel added from a dark corner.
“I’m going to bed. You fuckers try anything and I got a shotgun shell with your name on it.”
The room was too dark to show Roz clearly, but I couldn’t help noticing that she had a knockout figure.
“We aren’t animals,” Joel said.
“Whatever, man. Just keep your dicks out here and no one gets killed.”
A door closed down the hallway.
We were left in a strange place and it was pitch black. Joel slipped on his NVG’s and moved around the house.
I laid back on a lazy-boy, propped my feet up, and tried not to think of how miserable I felt. Damn leg hurt. I was thirsty, fucking exhausted, and so hungry I could eat about six meals.
After some rustling around, Joel came back and put something in my lap. I almost broke into tears when I realized it was bottled water and a pair of food bars in plastic wrappers.
It’s late and I can’t write any more. It was hard enough getting used to sleeping in Fortress; now we have this temporary home around us and a new friend.
This is Machinist Mate First Class Jackson Creed and I am still alive.
The Base
9:15 hours approximate
Location: Undead Central, San Diego CA — Roz’s Place
After losing Fortress last night, we crashed with our new friend Roz. She’s about five-foot-five and Latino. She’s got dark brown hair and she’d probably clean up pretty nice. Roz is cute, I won’t lie, and she’s got some killer bod, at least the little I noticed while I had my arm draped over her shoulder last night. She also looks like she will kill me if I look at her that way again.
My leg is a mess. I hurt my ankle last night and now it’s swollen, but I don’t think it’s a full sprain. I can walk on it, even though it’s more of a hobble than an actual steady stride. Joel Kelly just looked at me like I was a puss. Fuck you, Marine-boy. I did it protecting you and Roz.
Roz tossed me an ace bandage so I could wrap it tight. I wish I had ice. I also wish a Burger King drive-through worked by hot strippers would suddenly appear where the front window is boarded up. I wish I had a way to go back in time a few years and tell Jenny Collins that I liked her. Not love, just liked. We did some shit over her clothes, but I know I could have gotten her with a little more skill. Might as well wish for a tropical get-away while I’m at it.
Joel was nothing but unhappy smiles and pissy Marine attitude. He stormed around all morning. Stripped his gun, put it back together, counted rounds, swore a lot, and snapped at either one of us if we asked him what the plan was.
I asked about eight times.
We had water and food, but mostly some kind of emergency rations Roz’s father had collected over the last couple of years. They’d started the end of the world out with a three-month supply of food and clean drinking water for four, but after inviting in a few family members and a kid from the neighborhood, they’d used up a decent chunk. We drank sparingly, but it was hard not to guzzle. The last time I had clean water was about a week ago.
Joel finally got cabin fever and said he was going to check on Fortress.
“I’ll go with you.”
“Rest your foot. We may need to get mobile soon. I’ll be right back.”
“Dude. I’ll go. You can’t make it without me.”
“Believe it or not, I’m a Marine and I don’t need a gimp squid tagging along, asking me to wipe his nose.”
“Whatever. If you run into trouble what are you going to do?”
“At the first sign of a real threat I’ll come back. Get some sleep and don’t give Roz any shit.”
Like I wanted a knife in my chest.
“Your idea of trouble and my idea are different. You think a pack of Z’s is a challenge. I think they’re a death squad.”
“Whatever. Just chill. I’ll be back. Here — write about Reynolds, because he deserves it.” Joel dropped the log book in my lap.
He’d already strapped on his combat gear and filled his pouches with magazines and a couple of energy bars from Roz’s stash. He downed a bottle of water in three gulps and slid the blinds aside to take a look.