Paul asked about my family. I told him about Erin and Beth. I also tried to give him an idea about how things were on the outside. I explained that I had come looking for him specifically. That was one of his first big surprises: he has no intention of leaving!
He went into what had happened here at the prison. The facility went into total lockdown. The guards were bringing meals, all of the day-to-day functions were basically cancelled. Then, one of the guards turned. It caused a panic and a huge riot broke out. Apparently, half of the prison is open dorms. It started there. In no time, the already short-staffed prison was overtaken by the inmates.
At some point, the infected were forced out to what Paul called West Yard. Eventually, all the remaining staff were tossed into that yard as well. He said it was horrific as male and female correctional officers were thrown in with the handful of zombies. Some ran for the fence only to get torn up in the razor wire. A couple actually escaped.
The inmates quickly organized and began making weapons in the carpentry and welding shops. They united in preparation for some sort of outside response.
None came.
A week later, they had the perimeter fence covered in old blankets, making it harder for anybody on the ground to see in and do anything. But, shortly after that, the in-fighting began. First, it was the Whites, Hispanics and Natives against the Blacks. Then, the Hispanics turned on the Natives. After that they (the Hispanics) turned on each other based on gang affiliation. For the last bit, the Whites just hung back…waiting. Then, the surviving Hispanics were finished off by the Whites.
After that, a new movement started with surprising consequences. Prison has its own social structure. At the very bottom are the sex offenders, called ‘freaks’. Guys in on murder, drugs, and robbery are considered ‘solid dudes’. The solid dudes decided to eliminate the freaks. However, being outnumbered three-to-one, it was the solid dudes who ended up on the losing end.
It seems that the freaks, many who had been beaten and extorted regularly, decided to fight back once they had been backed into the proverbial corner. Not all of the solid dudes were killed. It seems that there were significant amounts that had refused to join in on the persecution, and thus were spared.
The prison has a steam plant that is kept up by inmates. Additionally the facility also underwent an experimental solar power refit a couple of years ago.
Paul said that anybody who wanted to leave was allowed to go a couple of weeks ago. Anybody who wants to leave is told to do so if and when they want.
I asked if that included me and my group. Paul assures me that we are all free to leave! That, I pointed out, seems like an empty promise considering we were captured and thrown into cells.
He explained that it was a precaution. It seems that when you are confined and look at the same view every day, little changes leap out at you. Our RV was spotted instantly. When we didn’t leave, there was concern that we might be a threat. I guess this prison was once an asylum…literally. It was equipped with a crematorium to dispose of unclaimed bodies. There is an underground tunnel that was once used to transport bodies out of sight of the living patients to limit the upset caused by simply moving a dead body in the open. When this place was converted to Eastern State Prison, that tunnel was walled up. The inmates now use that tunnel (they’ve knocked down the wall) to sneak in and out. They only do so when it is dark. That explains why we never saw anybody coming or going. Also, how they snuck up on us.
Paul told me I was free to leave this cell if I wanted. He got up, called for them to “unrack eleven” and he left.
I guess I’ll go take a look around.
Thursday, March 6
Early morning
Paul made good on letting us leave. It was strange in the sense that, after asking around, everybody was treated decently. Nobody was harassed or harmed. Joey acted like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave. Not that it was ever up for debate, but Paul insisted that the boy leave with us. Despite my personal connection with him, there are several known pedophiles. Funny thing, even the sex offenders have a “pecking order”.
So, we leave one strange reality and return to another. They had the RV in a locked sally-port. It was no problem climbing in, and once they opened the outer gate, rolling out. We decided to make a trip through the downtown area of Pendleton.
The zombies had to earn this town!
The streets are strewn with now-decaying corpses that are no longer ambulatory. They are almost pathetic.
Of course, there are plenty still shambling about. Our vehicle drew attention fast. As long as we keep moving, they aren’t a threat.
Holy Crap! There are people on top of a mom-and-pop diner!
Early evening
Now we have a problem. We took in three survivors. Julia Mills—a whip-thin fifty-eight-year-old black woman who used to be a nurse at the prison, Amanda Prentiss—a sixteen- year-old girl from the Pendleton area with raven hair and olive skin that suggests something exotic from one parent, but she’s not talking…due to the shock. That brings me to Dewey Morton, a thirty-one-year-old (so he claims…but looks at least ten years older) recently incarcerated man. He’s about six feet tall and three hundred pounds. Apparently he has been doing unspeak-able things to the females for the better part of two weeks.
There was a third female. Dewey tossed her to zombies to convince the others he was serious. He made Julia and Amanda watch the young girl (apparently a twelve-year-old Hispanic) be eaten alive. Then, (as if that wasn’t enough) he hauled the girl back up with the rope he had tied around the girl’s waist. He bound her hands and gagged her, then tied the body to a water pipe. Once the girl re-animated, he made the two watch him violate the corpse! Apparently his example was simply to illustrate their choice of serving him as a sex slave…alive or dead.
Of course, we have Julia and Amanda safe and sound with us. Dewey is still on the roof. Tim and Rodney are currently “keeping him company.”
Late evening
God forgive us.
We had a meeting to decide the fate of Mr. Morton. It was heated to say the least. Reggie believed that we should take him back to the prison and let them deal with this. Tim, Rodney, and Samantha felt that, based on what they had seen and heard, they’d just let this guy out with no punishment…and who knows what other vile acts he would commit. Antonio said nothing. Greg and I wanted to toss the bastard off the roof into the waiting horde of zombies gathered below.
This entire debate was happening on the roof of the restaurant while Dewey Morton cried, pleaded, and begged. He kept saying he was sorry and that he “needed his meds”. Finally Tim just backhanded him and he lay still, whimpering quietly.
Nobody noticed Amanda climb up through the hatch of the RV. All of a sudden, she’s hitting and kicking her tormentor, screaming hysterically. We were breaking up the beating when Greg and I made eye contact. We simply tossed the guy off the roof.
He landed on a bunch of waiting zombies and vanished under a pile. The screams were incredible. At one point, he emerged. He was covered in blood and a large flap of his face hung loose where it looked like something had tried to rip his scalp off from back to front. He couldn’t scream anymore because his throat was torn out. He staggered a couple of steps, then collapsed. We watched in horrified fascination as zombies swarmed him like ants on a grasshopper, each one tearing off a piece for itself until there was only a large stain of gore left on the asphalt.