Chris Eddleman: Zombie Log 4/13

Not feeling so hot today. I don't mean sick, no, I'm just antsy. I know the horde will get here but, I just want it to happen now. This waiting doesn't feel healthy. So here, I sit in my room on the computer, waiting.

Waiting for the Saints to get back.
Waiting for the Flock to gather.
Waiting for Christina to come home.

Screw it, I'm going to see if I can go release some of this waiting tension.

I borrowed some of Tom's toys and hopped in my old car. I headed for Hopper Rd, a place where no one in their right mind would live nowadays. It was still packed...but again, not in their right mind.

The streets were the same way they'd been for five months...bleak. I saw the occasional car driving on some of the main roads but, Cape had turned into a ghost town. Zombies were mainly confined to certain areas of the city but, as a general rule no one ventured out. Unless you were heavily armed...like a certain man whose log you're reading.

I killed the engine about a block West of the old donut shop. Contrary to popular belief, zombies do have some amount of downtime, and sometimes noises don't disturb them.

Well, they needed to be disturbed this time. I reached in my car and pulled out one of those wonderful old boomboxes from the 80s and clicked in a cassette tape. Soon enough, "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys began to blare down the block.

Zombies began to literally pour out of nearby houses. About 50 in total, all falling out of windows or bursting through doors, running at me full tilt.

I cocked back my ridiculous machinegun and barely took aim, firing round after round from the hip. Shells ripped through dead flesh, bursting bits of stagnant blood and ichor as zombie after zombie hit the ground. The gun soon let out a burst of clicking noises, and I loaded in one of the extended belt clips Tom had made. A renewed assault began, as scrambling zeds fell to my bullets. The closest any got was about ten feet away, some tubby old zombie. I swept the machinegun toward him and five rounds shot through his skull, exploding out the back. Soon enough, the scrambling ceased and half a hundred zeds lay at my feet.

I started to turn to head back to my car...and then I heard it. The moaning.

I whipped back around to find something like two hundred zombies running toward me from the far end of the street.

Well, time to use some of Tom's toys. I pulled out a little detonator, and when the horde was about one hundred feet away, I hit the button.

The street was blasted with the charges I had set before even putting on the music....however, I had severely underestimated the amount I'd need....only about thirty zombies were felled in the blast.

Shit...shit...SHIT!

I scrambled for my machinegun, firing nervous rounds, many of which went high. Only about ten more were killed before my automatic ammo was depleted, this time with no reloads.

I had spent time with the Saints, though. I wasn't defenseless. Two pistols were suddenly in my hands, with two replacement clips each in my jacket. Soon enough, the first two clips were depleted, my hands shaking just slightly, throwing off my aim. The muzzles flashed and more running zeds went down, but my ammo was depleting and they worked their way closer every second.

I threw the last clips into the pistols and emptied them into the horde. I wasn't totally defenseless...I'd learned from the last time. I reached back and grabbed the machete strapped to my back, and I started getting a little more personal.

The blade chopped into rotting flesh, and soon was covered in a concoction of fluids while zombies hit the ground at my feet. However, I was getting very quickly mobbed and was tiring out. I was scared. I was angry.

I got careless.

A zombie, looking to be about 27 pre-death, just barely missed biting into my bicep. I responded by chopping the machete through his head, and he hit the ground. I saw red and I didn't stop. I reared the machete back and chopped again...and again.

"Die! Die!" I screamed, punctuating each word with a chop.

"Give!"
"Me!"
"Back!"
"MY!"
"LIFE!"

I ended my barrage, breathing heavily hot steamy air. Not looking...
A zombie grabbed my back, and I barely turned around to put the flatside of the machete against his throat. He snarled, spitting blood and decaying saliva into my face. We struggled against each other, and more zombies soon came forward.

I was going to die. Just from blowing off steam. They'd never even find me. Except...

Suddenly a bullet flew through my offender's skull, and he swamped on me. A figure leapt in front of me, clad in dark clothes and wearing a plain white mask. He somehow was wielding an AK and a flamethrower, and he dove into the fray, lighting up zombies with fire and bullets.

He turned to me as they were dispatched, leaving the horde to run about mindlessly burning.

"Get up, Chris Eddleman! Come on, boyo."

I pushed the zombie off of me, and the man helped me to my feet.

"I'm so proud of you I could shit. You're doing well."

My eyes lit up.

"Dave?!" "Dave Hearnes?!" Dave was supposed to be dead. BBRC burned to the ground during the last invasion while Dave defended most of our friends from a massive horde.

The figure turned, and walked into the smoke.

"You're doing fine!"

I stood stunned, and I swore I could hear the sound of bicycle spokes in the distance. I walked back to the car, losing my lunch on the way. This must have been the fourth or fifth time I'd cheated death. Pretty soon I'm going to run out of aces.

I drove home to find Christina there. She looked at me wide-eyed, as I was lightly spattered in blood.

"Hey, darlin'. I'm think I'm gonna hit the shower..." I said.

She looked a little stunned but stayed her distance. I had worn all long sleeves and a mask to prevent any blood borne...but she was in her normal clothes, and I didn't want her touching me anyway. I threw the clothes in an incinerator I kept downstairs, and then took a long shower, still trembling.

She met me afterwards for a long hug, and I tried my best to stop shaking.

Wait, gonna stop writing...

Getting a message from one of our Sikeston outposts.

Oh no...

A horde of hundreds is on its way...the big invasion wasn't supposed to happen till Thursday.

Oh God, we need a plan...

I need a team.

END LOG