Saturday, April 24, 2010
Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! No, I am not really that excited. I have been singing that in my head all day. Made a point to write something today. Just wanted to at least make note of my birthday. My first birthday as a hostage. Would they let me go as a present? No, I’m not telling anyone. None of their business. They wouldn’t care anyway. The only people that would care are God knows where. Haven’t talked to family in what feels like decades. The last time I saw them was not a great time. We just buried mom. She died because of that worthless vaccine that caused this mess. She was I can’t write about this. Just another unhappy b-day.
There was a lot of work today. Some of the hunters just came back from a trip with more supplies. We had to put it all away as they watched closely. They wouldn’t want any of us to steal their loot even though we are supposed to be sharing. They apparently found a gun shop because they came back with rounds and rounds of bullets, and a bunch of new guns. They put that stuff away. Gathers don’t touch guns is the rule. We had to wipe down the trucks. Clean the dirt and blood off. It looked like they ran over some zombies. A good thing about the trips is that the hunters generally come back happy. I think as long as they got to kill some zombies, they were good. To celebrate, we had a bigger than usual dinner that was prepared by the older woman. I took the opportunity to try to make friends with one of the hunters. All of them are giant asses, but I think I found the one guy that has a little decency left in him somewhere. I wasn’t too pushy. I think I picked a good question to start the conversation. I asked how many zombies he had killed so far. That got him talking. We shared some zombie killing stories. I made up a few stories to show him that I hated the zombies as much as they did. I do hate them. I am just not into the whole hunting them thing.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Every once in a while, the hunters decide on who is going on the next hunting trip. That was what they were doing when they found me. They go out looking for food, and supplies, but I think they are really looking for zombies to hunt. After all, they are the ones that killed all those zombies I saw in those towns, and had fun hanging them up like Christmas ornaments. They usually will take a couple of gathers with them. I am sure that is bundles of fun. I haven’t decided if staying here or not is the best thing. I am not sure how long this whole set up will last, or how I feel about basically being a hostage here.
There are about 30 people here. About 20 of them are the hunters, and the rest are gathers including me. The hunters take turns guarding the fort. They station a couple of people at the entrance while others patrol the grounds. There are always a few keeping track of the gathers. We aren’t free to just do whatever we want. If we are not working, we have to be in our homes. They don’t let us socialize too much. I think they are afraid we would form a coup. It is hard to socialize anyway. After everything all of us have gone through, it is hard to talk about sometimes. Much easier to write it down. Anyway, what is there to say? “Hey did you catch that game last night? How are the kids? Did you get that job?” Plus it is awkward when you are being watched over by guys with guns. I almost forgot. There are also 2 women here. You would forget them because the hunters keep them away from the rest of us. One is an older woman who does a lot of the cooking when there is something to cook. The other is a woman who I would say is in her late 20’s. Never been good at guessing ages. The few times I actually saw her, she looked like she went 12 rounds with the devil. I am pretty sure the hunters have abused and raped her. I think if you gave her the choice of staying here or running into a pack of zombies, I think she would choose the zombies. There will never be normal for her again. It is sad, but it shows me things could be worse.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
So I made my complaints about being here and I can’t say I’m totally happy, but there are some good things. My headache has gone away. I think it is a combination of eating more regularly, and finally getting some good sleep. I can sleep more easily in this protected atmosphere. I still get the nightmares from time to time, but they are going away too. I wanted things to go back to normal, and this is probably as normal as it is going to get for a while. I am not sure how long these people have been here, but they
This is the first time in a long time I have been able to write. Hopefully, they don’t find me doing it either. After the last writing I was looking for another car when someone knocked me out. I woke up being hosed down in a shower. I think they were making sure I had not been bitten, or scratched up by a zombie. Surprised those bastards didn’t rape me. I have been taken in by a group of crazy ex-cops, ex-military, and gun loving white people who probably went hunting every weekend. They have turned this small-gated community into their private civil war fort. They probably have had dreams of doing this for years, and finally got the opportunity. They play defend the fort while they make everyone else cook, clean, store supplies, and anything else they can think of to keep us busy. I wonder if this is similar to the days of the hunters and gathers. Can’t believe I am a gather. Everyone gets their own small portion of the food, and supplies, but only the trusted get the guns. They took the little medicine, and water I had with me. My journal was the only thing they let me keep because no one had a use for it that wasn’t named Max. It would be hard for them to read or write, if they could, with their hands glued to their guns. I will be honest... I am a gather.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
I had to take a break from writing until I found some medicine. I could barely think. I even broke my rule against going out at night, but I had to move on to the next town to find medicine. Plus, there are no signs of life anywhere. Just dead bodies on poles, hung from trees, placed in front of doors, and in piles burnt to death. I know I am getting myself in trouble, but I have nowhere else to go. I took the rare opportunity to actually look at some of the dead zombies. It was not easy because they smell even worse dead than alive. Their skin looks kind of like melted cheese. I wonder why? I have avoided touching them whenever possible, but I have gotten closer than I wanted too. I don’t think I actually touched one, or at least that is what I prefer to think. They seem to bleed easily. Drool it sometimes. You could tell that some of them were probably dragged to their current resting spot. There are different trails of blood everywhere. Their eyes are also bloody. Very red. I used a stick to open some of their eyes lids. I popped one out by accident. Blood rushed out. Disgusting. I don’t have much of a stomach for that. On to other things, supplies in these towns are getting less and less. The military or whoever came through here killed everyone, and took everything they could use. Including the medicine. I got lucky and found a stash someone was hiding in their home. Probably hid it because it is some strong stuff. I had my best night of sleep in a long time last night. The nightmares couldn’t wake me this time.
Should I go back? Should I try a different route? I should look for a map. Maybe I could figure out where I am. I can’t find a map anywhere. I guess these people all knew where they were, and had no plans to go anywhere. Or the ones that left took all the damn maps with them. More reason for my head to hurt.