Just Another Apocalypse Diary< Day 16 (Short Story Series)

Here’s Day 1 if you’d like to begin at the begining.

The head start we gave them by burying Bob worried me, but there was realy no other choice than to give him a proper funeral. 

Thankfully they’re moronic pigs and leave food wrappers like breadcrumbs for us to follow. The group doesn’t move easily through the brush either, they break branches, leave their footsteps in the mud and are in general, like bulls in a china shop. I suppose in their minds they have no reason to hide a trail, because they have no reason to think we’re following them. 

Right now, Ian and I have caught up to the murderous group. The three men who killed our friend have met up with two more thugs, already squating in a cabin. We watch the place from across a field and the setting sun is shining right in my eyes.  I laugh when I realize that I’m in drag in a tree again. I need to change up my habits. 

Ian is on a branch across from mine, looking like he may shit himself. Says he’s got a healthy fear of heights. Ever the helpful feline, Jim is trying to provide comfort by walking all over him and rubbing his face. Ian’s convinced she’s trying to push him out of the tree.  

“Maybe she is. You can never tell with a cat” I laughed and gave mercy by calling her back to my branch of the oak tree. 

To get his mind off the distance between him and the ground. I asked,” Have any good ideas for how this revenge is going to go?” I have my own thoughts but I realize he may have something smarter than sneaking in to immobilize them and torture them until dawn. Technically it’s a plan, but it needs polishing. 

“We wait till this damn sun gets out of my eyes and sets behind the mountain. Then sneak up and peek in some windows.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t get us in quietly.” I pointed out.

“Who says we even want in…” he said while shaking his hand to relieve a cramp he got from clutching the tree in a death grip.

“I figured it was step one of the plan” 

He shrugs, “I was thinking, maybe lure them out one by one. Make them think we’re a couple plaugers, that need taken  care of… When they come out, ambush whoevers on plauger duty, then another guy will come to check on that one when he doesn’t come back. One after the other.”

I laughed because it sounded kind of like a cartoon scheme. But when I thought about it, it made a little sense. Plus, I was just too damn tired to think up something else. 

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It’s right around midnight and I am still alive. It was so fucking close though.

 Our original plan went to shit even before we took down the first guy. What we didn’t know was that as the sun went down they were busy downing bottles from a case of 40yr old scotch. 

So the minute Ian began making plauger growls to lure one man out, they decided it was a party shoot and came as a group, guns blazing. 

We kept to our hiding place under the porch and the inebriated group hooted and hollered down the stairs and past us. A man with a cowboy hat attempted to quiet them in an even louder voice, “Hey! Shut yer filthy fuckin mouths. A horde a deadheads’ll hear ya!”

Too late. They could be heard coming from the West and South clearing around the cabin. Not in a right mind, the murdurers decided to fight the shambling group of sixty plus plaugers. You know, drunk and in the dark, using only moonlight to see.  Never said they were smarties. 

We peeked out and watched, so I will note that there were three runners in the plauger group but since they came first and not with the mass, they were shot down easily.

Only one of the five men had the presense of mind to retreat once his buddies went down. He disapeared into the darkness of the trees and we were stuck there under the porch. All amped and with nobody to take revenge on. Plaugers ruin the day every time!

I turned to where I figured Ian to be (pitch black under the porch), “We have to get out while they’re busy eating. Otherwise..”

“Shh!” Ian said and attempted to put his hand over my mouth. He got my forehead and I promptly smacked him away. He whispered, “Do you hear that?” He remained quiet, trying to catch the sound again. 

Then I did.  It was a woman’s small voice begging “Come back! Please..please help…”

“Damn it Ian! Now we’re rescuing someone?” I’m sure that Ian could tell I was less than happy about it by my tone, but he also knew I’d help him help. 

“Fine. We knock, wait two seconds and if she doesn’t open the door, we take off. Agreed?” I ask and he “mhhmm”‘s. 

We sneak undetected out from under the porch. The second he knocks, I imagine every plauger’s head turning and I can tell they’re on the move. From inside I hear, “I’m coming! Dont leave!” 

Thinking she’s opening the door any second, we wait. Then we wait a couple seconds more. Finally the thick wood door opens a crack, a painfully thin woman who looks like shes recovering from a horrible disease peeks past a chain lock with a dim lantern. “Who are you, where’s Danny?”

Of course, I quickly shove at the door and order, “Come on, we’re saving you.” I was floored when she yelled, “Fuck off!” and slammed the door shut. I looked at Ian, he gaped back at me. 

Looking past his shoulder, the moonlight showed the plaugers that are climbing the porch steps. Then a growl comes from behind me.  We made a stupid mistake, letting ourselves get cornered. I bang furiously at the door. She opens it, but again the chain lock is keeping us out. 

In the darkness, I missed the gun barrel poking out the door, waist high. Unfortunately the bitch inside didn’t miss Ian. He crumbled at my feet.

What happened next, happened in slow motion. Like watching myself in a movie.

With the gunshot ringing heavily in my ears, I pulled my 9mm from its holster and kick past the chain lock (way easier than I thought it would be) before she could shut the door. 

The horrible woman raises her 22 pistol and I dont give her the chance to follow through. One to the head and she drops. With no time to spare I turn back to Ian. He’s alive. 

Two snarling plaugers are going to their knees right in front of him, preparing for a live feast. I put a bullet in the top of their heads and drag unconscious Ian by the arm, into the dimly lit house. Already two more have slowly pushed their way inside, blocking the doorway. 

I kicked the one smaller woman in the chest and she falls back. Then I messed up and slipped in Ian’s blood that’s coating the entryway tiles. I go down, my foot sweeps the legs out from under the remaining plauger, and he topples onto me. Missionary style.

Plaugers are usually pretty lightweight, but he’s just gorged on the murderers and I’m unable to push him away and disentangle myself. Ian to the rescue! He wakes up to find me being hungry humped by a plauger and shoots him dead. Well…deader anyway.

I crawl out from under the guy and quickly make the rest of the nearest plaugers head’s resemble swiss cheese, before slamming the door shut. 

We’re stuck but we’re safe. Ian’s wound is small and goes through and through his side. Im crossing my fingers there’s not some major organ in there bleeding him to death. Time will tell.

 I had to dig the shirt fragments out of him as best I could and disinfect the hole. Good thing we had plenty of Scotch left. Ian passed out half way through, thankfully.

 I am beat! Im going to sleep two days straight I think. Hope Jim’s doing alright out there, she can be a princess sometimes. 

Talk more later…

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I did the art. 

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