This was an awkward morning. I awoke when I heard my two companions moving around downstairs, something I’m not used to yet I guess. When I came down to see what was happening I got an eye full of Tim’s gorgeous backside. Perfectly tanned, well muscled, and with that V that leads down to the most glorious..Oh good lord… What! I’m not dead yet…
Bob was there too but I made sure to look away quickly enough. Eighty year old junk is not something I particularly want to see. It would be like peeping my grandpa…ew.
Turns out there’s a stream out back and Tim gathered us each a bucket. He smiled and said, “Strip and grab a bucket Gabe. Get some of that rotten blood gunk off you. Not to be rude, but dude you fucking reek.” I stared at the bucket for a minute, then Tim. I tried like hell not to stare at more than his eyes but damn…
Finally Bob spoke up and saved me from indecision “I don’t want to smell that mess all moist again, it’s like a wet dog wrapped in a bloated carcass. Take your water upstairs and maybe try to find a change of clothes. Go on stinky!” I smiled at the secret wink he gave me and I scurried away.
Getting clean felt like heaven, well as clean as a single bucket of water can get me. It still felt great. It’s the little things, you know.
We’re heading northeast today and I now have to travel with the man and try like hell not to blush every time he looks in my direction. Maybe I will just head South, I don’t need all this in my head. I know, I know, get it together Gabby you’ve seen a naked man before. He may be a total jerkface also. Keep it all in perspective.
We are way farther east than anyone planned. The horde of plaguers has widened considerably and tripled in number. I can’t imagine where they all came from or what drove them to culminate at the coast. Maybe one started walking west and was joined by others, but now there’s nowhere to go since reaching the coast, I honestly don’t know.
The excitement for this afternoon happened when we encountered a couple of men, it began friendly enough but in the end they tried mugging Tim and Bob. Easy targets, they guessed. Thankfully, before they came into sight, I was alerted by Jim. Her ears strain forward and she goes especially still when she hears something new. It could have been an animal or a man but I’m not in the habit of taking chances, so I blended into the brush. My companions were smart enough not to mention me during introductions. Breathing smoothly and controlled, I kept my barely used handgun pointed in our visitor’s direction.
The new guys, Steve and Terry traded small talk until they were within striking distance. Steve, who was a giant of a man, sucker punched Tim in the jaw and he went down like a sac of potatoes. Terry then pushed Bob to his knees and held a gun on him while Steve retrieved his silent-kill baseball bat from his bag. I could tell they’d done this before, it was well choreographed.
Before Steve could deal the deadly blow, I shot Terry in the chest. He was first since he had the gun. I’d like to say I was a good enough shot to aim for the head, but I’m just not, so I go for the broader area of the torso. Next I aimed for Steve’s large back, but only got his left lung. He spit out blood and kept moving. It took another shot right to the spine to stop him. I definitely need to work on my aim. I really wish I would have been confident enough with my slingshot to take the scummy guys out, but a couple days of practice does not make me an expert. I will practice more.
Tim awoke about the time I fired the third shot. He watched me come out of the bushes with a horrified expression, like he wasn’t totally certain I was the good guy. Hell, I wasn’t certain myself, but I held out my hand to help him up and saw that his left cheek was already beginning to swell.
I looked to Bob, he smiled to show he was fine and said, “Lets blow this popsicle stand before those ugly mugs show up.” We laughed uneasily and began to run as fast as the terrain would allow. There was going be a huge amount of plaguers headed our way with that many shots fired. At least they will have stopped to feed once they found the remains of the muggers.
Tonight we’re somewhere around Soledad, Ca in a one bedroom shack on the outskirts of a large, flat valley. My leg muscles are like jello after the mountain terrain we’ve been going through. We both slowed out gait to give him a break, but I have no clue how Bob is doing it. He’s my hero in a lot of ways.
We are all sleeping around the wood stove tonight. I worry that I may snore or discover I’m a violent sleeper. I’m kind of scared that I will wake up to find I’ve killed them in my sleep. You may think I’m being silly but, it’s a possibility with me. In the before times, I awoke to a fistful of butter, a banana under my pillow and an empty beta bowl. I still don’t know what happened to Fishface. I have a bad feeling I ate him. Just saying, I’m not being completely paranoid. I haven’t smothered Jim yet though, so the men may be fine. I’ll let you know in the morning.
Oh yeah, Tim is still staring at me funny. Like I’m an alien or something. It’s helping to cure the crush I was developing. He’s kind of a weirdo.
More to come…..
A great blogging writer, Paul E. Bailey has created a sister story to this Apocalypse Diary. It’s written in a different style and in a different place but these stories share time and Zombie population. Please give this awesome story a read and continue to follow the characters adventures! Thank you.😊 This link is for the first chapter, he provides easy links to the other chapters from there…he’s more computer savvy than I, obviously. lol!
Picture is from http://www.missionscalifornia.com