violentpatriot

The early days:

When I woke this morning and turned back on the plasma television the emergency broadcasts were still showing the same information from six hours earlier. It looks as if everyone had stopped broadcasting. The internet was still operational though and yahoo and googles main pages showed links for emergency evacuation pages and emergency bulletin boards. The bulletin boards were post after post after post of stranded people and families begging for help. One woman was trapped in her bedroom as out in the hallway her zombie children threw themselves at the door trying to get in at her . Another group of survivors were posting from a cellular tower where they had climbed up to get away from the dead who chased them up there. He was posting from his iphone and the message was dated earlier yesterday.

There were literally hundreds of cries for help on this message board but almost no replies. I dont think anyone was coming to help them and the thought was depressing. I did a search for any posts in the state and about two dozen popped up. The oldest one was three days old and the latest one, a teenage boy trapped in his room, was posted just two hours ago but it was over six hours away. The closest was twenty miles from here, a family of five, trapped in their house afraid to come out. The last post from them was 14 hours ago. 14 hours ago Im pretty sure they were dead but I posted a reply anyway seeing if I could get a response from them as I put my kit on and inspected the Hummer. There was no response. I plotted out a primary, alternate and contingency route to the house, checked the chains on the girls to make sure they werent going anywhere, and then headed off to see if I could help this family.

There air was smoky and smoke could be seen coming from several different sources on the horizon. Every time I passed houses along the road it seemed as if zombies would appear from nearby and run at me in the vehicle. It started to become a pattern and I learned to expect it, houses up ahead, maintain speed at 25 miles per hour, zombies rush out and try and attack the car. They showed no intelligence and concern and several of them would run into the side of the vehicle as I drove by and get caught by the rear tire crushing a foot or leg as I continued pass.

It was difficult not to hit some of them as they charged the vehicle head on, and tempting not to run them right over, but I was worried about damaging the car so I kept my speed down and attempted to clip the ones that charged straight at me. One zombie, just a bloodied up 13 year old girl really, jumped right onto the hood of the car in an impressive display of undead athleticism. Luckily her balance was not quite as good and she tumbled off to the side. As I wondered if I was lucky enough to kill her with the fall I saw through the side mirror that she just popped right back up and started chasing after me as if nothing had happened.

The roads were a mess. There were cars in the ditch and crashed off the road or into each other. The most eerie were the cars just stopped in the middle of the road, the doors wide open. A few even were covered in blood, bloodied hand prints or spattered blood on the windows. Still the road was passable and the obstacles could be avoided. A lot of the houses I passed seemed to suffer the same fate of the vehicles, doors wide open to the house or windows smashed in at the ground floor, often signs of blood even visible from the road.

At one point I slowed down the H1 and eased up to a pair of crashed cars that were blocking the road. I was taking my time putting my bumper up to the corner of one of the overturned wrecked F250 as I needed to push it out of the way. I put my foot on the brake of the H1 and put the other on the accelerator bringing the rpms to 1600 Break Throttle Modulation, the key to taking advantage of the massive amount of torque the 6.8L turbo diesel produces. I was completely in the moment when just by dumb luck I glanced into the rear view mirror and saw hundreds of zombies running down at me! I got so scared I forgot all about BTM and pushed through the side of the truck, which luckily easily spun out of the way, and drive through the gap just as the deadheads almost got to me, some of them pouring over the hull of the F250 in just a massive swarm of undead.

They were chasing me. Every single zombie I passed was still chasing after me. This was insane. As I went forward I would pass even more zombies that would add to the chase. I couldnt go back the way I came because they would swarm me. I couldnt believe there were so many.

I had been so busy taking in the sights and evading them one at a time or one small group at a time they I never really stopped to think how many I passed. And now here they all were massed together and relentless to get to me. I started to feel panic.

But panic never helps. At least thats what I told myself. I had to get back and away from them. I cant go back the way I came from I rationalized. Switch to alternate route to return home. Still driving ,even faster now, sometimes up to 45mph, no way was I going to stop, I made the changes on the Toughbook GPS and moved over onto the alternate route.

The alternate route was no different then the route I just came in on. Every house I passed seemed to attract a couple more zombies, who I easily bypassed and drove past, but this time I had the knowledge of impending doom that even though I couldnt see them, they were continuing to chase after me, adding their numbers to all the other zombies already chasing me. I couldnt turn into the lodge either because if even one of the zombies saw me he would pursue me towards the lodge and the girls, and all his friends would inevitably follow him. But I couldnt just keep driving either because every place I drove more seemed to appear to add to the undead swarm chasing me. It seemed as if I was fucked.

Then I passed a house only this time it wasnt a zombie that came running out. It was an overweight woman in her mid thirties. She looked rural. Uneducated. Poor. Scared. Desperate. But alive. I dont know how I immediately knew she was living and not a zombie but something about the way she ran out of the house, maybe it was the fact she opened the door to run out, but somehow I instinctively knew she was a remaining survivor.

I stopped the car and she ran up to my window. Please! You have to help me. Let me in.

I felt nauseous in my stomach. I was ashamed and disgusted with myself. Let me in!, she cried desperately.

I couldnt make eye contact with her. I felt like I was going to be sick. I glanced up in the rear view mirror and saw the strongest of the zombies starting to sprint into view. I slowly started creeping away.

What are you doing! Wait! Help me! She pounded on the car frantically, her last chance of survival disappearing as she chased after me as I slowly sped up.

Then I went faster, and as the front zombies started closing in I sped off. The zombies just massed over her, hundreds of them, as I continued to drive out of view, their attention elsewhere.

I deserve to burn in hell for what I did. But from what I see of earth, hell is already here.