Sunday, November 29, 2015

Welcome to Southaven (Tree John)

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN CONTINUED (Tree John)
                NOVEMBER 29TH, 2015

                I’ve checked the generators, the walkies, the weapons, the food and water, the batteries, the condom stock, the clothes, the fuel supply, the ammo, the toiletries, and every lookout tower in Southaven. I didn’t get to sit with my brothers and sisters during the assembly. I never do. In the year or so that I’ve been here, my job has been a basic care taker of all of Southaven. Gavin…. Our fearless leader has taken me under his wing…. For some reason. I have been in communication with people on the outside the walls, and know that for the most part…. We are ready. Tonight is our final meeting on the matter. However, until we leave the safety of Southaven, I will continue to push the decision makers here, to grow more trees. My children will need things to climb when it’s all over. I’m almost to Cain’s Camp. His tent is the biggest in Southaven. There are a few buildings where we store supplies and where some of the children play, but for raw living, we always go to Cain’s Camp. It’s just more fun. Sweet. I hear Christmas music. Hopefully my next post won’t be so short… Still getting the hang of posting after a year. This is Tree John
KILL’EM ALL

Welcome to Southaven (Mock)

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN CONTINUED (Mock)
                NOVEMBER 29TH, 2015


                There better be beer at this party.

Welcome to Southaven (Paul)

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN CONTINUED (Paul)
                NOVEMBER 29TH, 2015

                We just left the assembly. Gavin Stone sounded more like a preacher than a leader. Oh, it’s Paul. Most people call me Workman now, I don’t mind. I’ve changed in many ways. I’m walking to Cain’s Camp like most other ZFC right now. It’s getting dark, and I just wanted to take a few minutes to explain some things. It’s been a year, give or take a few weeks…. I think. We have gone dark, meaning.. none of us have posted any thoughts. There are plans that we are talking about. We are to infiltrate Reeducation, shut down the ASMZ and stop the takeover of our planet. We are on a new and secure line thanks to Professor Stevens and Doc. Doc was a sound engineer an editor before the fall, which I’m sure we’ll talk about tonight in Cain’s tent. Our posts are protected so the ASMZ or anyone else outside our circle can read them. We are all cold and hungry. We get food but in rations. Depending where you are, you might already know about the ARM Programs zeppelins that drop supplies off just outside the walls of Southaven. Gavin Stone sends us out to get them. Sometimes we don’t all return. Last month, some of Gavin’s own were attacked by an Uzzah. A food run turned into the zombification of these men. They returned with no arms. Their eyes were dark and furious. They howled at the walls of Southaven liked they belonged there. Dry and sputtering bellows came from their throats. Their wives and children stood in the tower, looking down as they bled out in the dirt, finally to be shot by a guard. It was sad. Even sadder is that they were sent back to Southaven as reminders of the horrors outside the walls, and that there seems to be no escaping the wrath of the ASMZ. The Uzzah has become a common word among the ZFC lately. They seem to be the biggest threat posing us at the moment. Breeching the walls of Reeducation will be harder with giant flesh eating beasts that float on slabs of alien technology in our way. At any rate, I’m here. Cain’s Camp is quiet. There is Christmas music playing….. Somewhere. It’s nice. I’ll check back in after the meeting, maybe tomorrow..
This is Paul.

KILL’EM ALL

Welcome to Southaven (Jessie)

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN CONTINUED (Jessie)
                NOVEMBER 29TH, 2015

                It’s Jessie. It’s going to be weird posting again after so long. So much has happened. Right now, I’m walking to Cain’s Camp. It’s been a year. Southaven has been our home. And at some point, I’m sure someone will post everything that has happened between. But for now, I’ll fill you in. We’re fucked. Inside one year, the ASMZ has taken over the entire globe. Not sure how, either it be by media, military, taking over the banking system…. Shit who knows. I just thought taking over a planet would take longer. Southaven is safe for the most part, but we still have to scavenge for food and water, which is BULLSHIT, because we can literally see the walls of Reeducation and a few small Drone Cities from here. You can see more at night but..

Sorry… fuckin fly flew up my mouth…

Anyway, yea. You can see more at night. The ARM Program has some zeppelins that drops off food and water sometimes. They are just teasing us with that shit. We have to fight for fuel and power out here and there they sit with everything all perfect, like it used to be. It would be fine if they dropped supplies off a little closer to us, but we have to go outside where all the zombies are to get that shit. And it’s not just zombies anymore. We deal with drones, zombies, punk ass humans trying to steal our shit, and these odd creatures called Uzzah. I think the government made them but who knows…  Apparently, the ASMZ has been working on zombie farms since 2011, and there are literally millions of zombies surrounding Reeducation and the Drone Cities. The Gypsy group has bounty hunters though. Some of them are really good, and can move around at night outside the shitty walls of Southaven. Mock is one of the best. He says that any one of the Drone Cities, sends tiny drones out to monitor us when we go retrieve supplies when the zeppelins drop them. And that the people of Reeducation watch it… like a fuckin tv show! Like a fuckin reality tv show! Makes me fucking sick. Fuck them. But you know what? The Gate Event is coming, and we have plans. Reeducation won’t be the only ones with power this fucking Christmas. I’m walking up on Cain’s Camp now. It’s like its own village inside Southaven. There are dirt roads and tents up all over the place. Sucks pretty bad when it rains, but right now it’s just cold as fuck. There are small Christmas lights up. Someone is playing Christmas music quietly.. I can hear it. The weirdest thing is the str….

UGH…Sorry…fuckin flies are driving me nuts!

Yea, but what’s weird, is the street signs. Every time Mock comes back from doing a supply run, he comes back with these weird street signs. I can’t even make out what they say. Some kind of weird writing. Looks like Egyptian Hieroglyphics but I don’t know… Mocks a crazy mother, I just let him do what he’s gonna do. His gold teeth have always given me the willies. And why he never bathes? Dayum he’s a stinky one. I can’t complain though. That crazy ass gets shit done..  O.k. I’m coming up on Cain’s tent here. Thanks for listening….whoever the fuck you are ;)

This is Jess.

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN

WELCOME TO SOUTHAVEN
                November 29th, 2015

                Professor Stevens here. We are all here. The assembly will be starting soon, and I will transcribe as much as possible. The arena is large. There are many seats, and many of them are full of survivors…. Or civilians as the founder of Southaven calls them. I know I haven’t properly introduced myself to this historical log. I am Professor Stevens. Student of Lord Micah, who was the creator of a frequency weapon we still use to this day, although it is modified as I see fit. I am in close relation with the Gypsy Group and the ZFC. And I bare allegiance to them, and against the ASMZ, Canary, the ARM Program, and any other tyrannical entity hell bent on population control and human modification. Having said that, it’s been a year or more since a post was published. There are people many of you might not know, but will. We are now waiting for an assembly to start. The founder, GAVIN STONE will be speaking. For those reading and just finding us, try to keep up. Much has changed. Oh, he’s walking on the stage. I will begin transcribing in 3…..2…..1….

                “People of Southaven. Over the last few years, we have grown in size, and in strength. Since our humble beginnings in Georgia, we have encountered many obstacles, and have endured many trials to ensure our survival. The world ignored the signs, but we were prepared. And now, now there is another obstacle. As most of you know, Reeducation cities are popping up all over the United States. The ASMZ is the new world government, leader of all military action and their laws are suffocating those of us who believe in honesty, morality, integrity……everything… Their agenda has born new groups. The Canary Group, who has moved from cleaning up zombies to becoming the leader of foreign affairs and management of every Drone City across America. The ARM, or the AMERICAN REST METHOD, who has merged from a legal suicide program to the leader in health care across the globe. Also in charge of the FDA, and who originally implemented food rationing, ultimately starving out millions of people across the world, shrouded in conspiracy and evil.
                These things are what we deal with on a daily basis. Now, as to not confuse the people of Reeducation or any Drone city, we are left alone for the most part. If they send a deliberate military attack on us here in Southaven, they would most certainly have to explain their actions to their citizens. So, a slow and diabolical execution of the people of Southaven has been introduced.
                I, GAVIN STONE, by the power and authority of Southaven law, in which I myself implemented in 2011, forbid any of you, the citizens of Southaven to take advantage of THE GATE event that Austin Reeducation is holding…”


                …Gavin Stone continued for an hour or more. I could tell that people were falling asleep. The audio coming from the stage wasn't that great. The echo from his voice was blurring his words together. But in short, he doesn't want us to take part in the Gate Event. The ASMZ works with Reeducation cities and Drone cities to host an event where people on the outside the walls of Reeducation or Drone cities, have a chance to fight their way in to experience ARM Programs Rest Method. It’s truly the most morbid, disgusting act of human behavior on display. People fighting for a chance to kill themselves. The only thing remotely close, was the mass killings of people stomped and trampled to death in the rush of Black Friday. Which again, is hosted by the ASMZ. Those of us in Southaven know what work the media puts into mass hypnosis, making things seem more important than safety, family, etc. I don’t know anyone personally planning on taking part of The Gate event, but until now it’s been open for anyone who wants it. Our leader Gavin Stone means well, but saying that he forbids anyone from taking part doesn't change anything. The idea has been made into a fantastic journey. End your life the way you want to, is what the ASMZ says. But….. The arena is emptying out now, and our team is quietly exiting too. We are a large team now. We have a meeting in a place called Cain’s Camp later this evening. He seems to have quite the loyal following. He is to be speaking tonight about a retaliation. There are supposed to be some old ZFC reintroduced to the clan as well. For starters, STAR, and LOKEY will be attending. Until tonight, this is Professor Stevens.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

EXODUS CONTINUED

EXODUS CONTINUED
                December 26th, 2013

                Hey it’s Tree. I remember Christmas back home. It was cold, like it is here. I can’t believe it’s been a year… or so since I entered the states. Yesterday Paul said he posted on the ZFC server. I agreed to pick up where he left off. I know this data is hacked by the ASMZ. So if you’re with them and reading this, Fuck you. Now… let’s see. I didn’t read what he posted, but I’ll start with the Gypsy Group.
                Luna grabbed us both by the hair and we all squatted down in the dark. The trees were damp, probably from the night air of Louisiana, but who knows. I listen to the death an destruction coming from the inside of the hospital. A voice behind me kept saying, “They are so fucked. They are so fucked.” “Ssshhhh!” Luna demanded quietly. Crouched down in the trees, I quietly looked around at the company that reached out and took us out of sight.
                I saw the two Reds, they were behind me. There was Pup, who was really fucked up from being thrown out a stained glass window. And he was being bandaged up in the dark by a girl named Jessi. Who we didn’t know then but do now. There was Luna, who the last time we saw, we were naked and near death, and there as a new mate named Stevens. He was rummaging through a duffel bag quickly. He was taller than any of us, even the Reds. It was dark, and I wanted to notice him more, but my eye was on the sky. I’m sure Paul explained it better, but there were loud claps from the sky. With each clap, we saw space ships. At least, that’s what my mind said they were. I don’t know what they were really, but they looked like fucking space ships.
                “Do you have it?” Luna turned and said to Stevens, never taking her eye off the front door of the hospital. “Yes, it’s ready.” Stevens stood up with a peculiar box that he held with one hand. “Please cover your ears people.” Steven whispered loudly, and stepped around us, out of the safety and cover of the trees, toward the front of the hospital. Between us and the 3 floating slabs of whatever the fuck they are, Stevens held his hands out and screamed the word, “UUUUUUZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
                We watched as zombies by the dozen slowly trip and moan their way toward Stevens. Hissing and growling, the zombies reached out toward the words of Stevens. I wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but he seemed to be baiting the fucking zombies toward him. Black oozing blood poured from every hole in the zombies as they made their way across the hospital grounds. Some spitting and sputtering until blood squirted violently from every pore of the zombie. Stevens cried out several more times, “UUUUZZZZZAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” More and more zombies came, now from the trees and through the windows leading to the basement of the old hospital. “Hurry!” Screamed Luna. She stood and yelled again. “DO IT!!”
                Stevens nodded. He reached into his pocket and grabbed what looked like ear plugs, held out the black box that he held in the palm of his hand, and much like a remote for a television, he pushed a button. A high pierced sound entered my head, and dropped me to the floor of the damp woods. I put my hands over my ears and it helped a bit, but not much. Stevens stood there with his finger on a button, and he was saying something to us, but I’ll never know what it was. I could just see him screaming to Luna. Then, the high pitched sound went away, leaving the winding and twisting sounds of the hum, then…BOOM!
                A clap echoed through the trees, coming from Stevens little black box. Every single zombie that was lumbering its way to get to us either disintegrated, or was lifted and thrown through the air, splattering themselves on the face of the hospital. Bodies of the dead were shredded in mid-air. Jaws ripped from the face, ribs torn from the body, and guts flailing themselves, twisting around the 3 slabs of black whatever the fuck they are, that still floated motionless in the crack of the device that Stevens held.
                I was speechless. I looked around and noticed I was standing. We were all standing, and watching. The claps in the sky revealed the fainting image of what I still think were space ships. And out from the doorway of the hospital, crawled the bodies of 3 giant zombie like creatures. They hunched and dug their slimy black fingers into the ground, and howled into the woods where we were. One of them began to charge, but was held back by another. They looked at us, directly at us. Their eyes were black. Emotionless. Empty. Horrifying.
                Stevens screamed into the woods where we stood in awe. “IT WON’T CHARGE! ITS NOT CHARGING GODDAMMIT!!” He looked frightened and a Luna grabbed us to retreat. We all thought the beasts would attack and kill us, the last surviving members of the Gypsy Group. Stevens was obviously trying to use his device again, hoping to destroy the demon zombies. But they weren’t there to be destroyed. They crawled onto their slabs and sat on chairs that rose up out of fucking nowhere, some walls came up on the sides and roof around them and they fucking disappeared! Gone!
                I still can’t explain that one, but that’s exactly what happened. The claps and humming from the sky stopped. No more big ass spaceships for me to look at, and no more zombies trying to attack us.
                Luna left the group, and approached Stevens, who stood there facing a blood bath of zombies. I heard her say under her breath, “You gotta get that fixed, okay?” Stevens nodded yes. Luna waved us out of the trees and gave us council.
                “This is the first we’ve seen of the new world. This is the first we’ve seen of the giant zombie, and this is the first we’ve seen of the merge of realities. But, this is also the first we’ve seen of Professor Stevens Frequency weapon. Our mission has changed from just surviving, to taking back our planet…. Or leaving it.”
                Paul and I looked at each other in total disbelief. The other Gypsy Group members listened without question in their mind, and without the disbelief Paul and I had. She continued.
                “Inside, we will find, our family and our friends. Our brothers and sisters. They are likely all dead. But we must make it to the basement, grab our tools and our belongings, our bags and what food we can carry, and make it quickly to Southaven. I have faith we will be met there by many more of our friends and family. I know that we have had losses, and that we are weak and that for some of us, our faith is being tried.”
                She looked right at Paul and me.
                “But, like the books say, WE FIGHT AS ONE, UNTIL THERE ARE NONE! So, let’s get our things, and go.”
                Why weren’t the spaceships in the sky even brought up? Why weren’t we able to stay and grab more food and supplies? And who was this Stevens guy? What was that device he had? I had many questions. Now? Well, now we are in Southaven, and my questions have been answered. We purposefully left a bag with information containing profiles of every Gypsy Group member that made it out alive, along with a map leading to Southaven. We also left two Gypsy Group members. Pup and Jessie. They were told to stay behind and wait for the last of the few that were meant to be here.
                Before I get off, I want to say that we are still not safe. Southaven is a safe house, but no one is safe anymore. Luna introduced herself as the leader of the Gypsies. She warned us about the true threat of the ASMZ and who works with them like the Canary Group and the ARM program. I’m sure we will all go through a formal introduction after everyone is here. But we wanted to explain the exodus of the Gypsies from the hospital for historical purposes. Soon, we are supposed to go dark.
                We don’t want the ASMZ or anyone else to track our position or plans for the future, so we were told to stop publishing our posts on these tablets we were given. For one year. All of our information will be recorded, just not published. The next time you hear from us, will be a year from now, in 2015. Wish us luck.
                 I too am tired now. I need to sleep. There is word of new members coming to Southaven, and we are excited. There are no Trees here to climb, so I feel alone. Maybe one day, we can plant some.
                This is Tree John. 

EXODUS

EXODUS
                December 25th, 2013

                This is Paul. I am weak, but I must post before it goes dark. My last entry was over a month ago… I think. My mind has changed from what it was before. I don’t know if it’s my new environment, the humming from the sky or just pure exhaustion. However, I will report. Please bear with me, as this might all seem a bit confusing.
                The hospital. The hospital was where I reported last. I think I left off where Tree John and I were going through some sort of initiation for the Gypsy Group. We briefly met an odd fellow who bore a hat with floppy bunny ears. His name is Pup. He’s not with us now, but he helped us escape the hospital. Our initiation was interrupted by a hum attack. They were fairly new to me, not anymore, but then, they were. The hum came while we were navigating our way through the underground hallways of the hospital. I remember being out of breath, placing my hands on the wall and stretching my back before our next challenge. That’s when the hum came. Pup, who was guiding us along looked worried. “That’s a new one.” He said. His eyes glassed over and we were all forced to put our hands over our ears. A loud hum vibrated the walls and floor. Harsh bangs, and muffled screams came from the floors above us and we ran for some sort of cover as the fluorescent lights began to shake themselves from the ceiling. It felt like we were experiencing an earthquake. “We have to get out!” Pup screamed, and led us to a door that led us toward the outside. Inside the hum, there were pops and twisting, metallic sounds. They were driving me insane. Tree John, who was always short for words fell several times while running. Holding your ears and paying attention to Pup’s lead was getting harder and harder. Finally, a trap door opened from the floor of the main lobby into the hospital. As soon as Pup opened the door, a shimmering black, and massive hand wrapped itself around his neck, picking him up and away from us. I could only watch, and witness. A large figure, probably 8 or 9 feet tall ripped Pup away from us and slung his body across the room, and out a large stained glass window. There was lightning and whirling wind outside, and I could see what was supposed to be the end of our lives. “NOOOOOOOO!!!” I screamed out. The beast reached into the trap door and snatched at us. Its fingers were long and pencil like with fingernails that were chipped and razor sharp. “FOUL BEASTS!” The creature screamed out. Tree John and I dodged and held our footing on the steep steps that lead upward to the floor of the hospital lobby.
                The creatures hand quickly pulled out and away from us, giving us opportunity to look out and plan a better escape. What we saw, I will never forget. And, I am not comfortable reporting. But this is the only way. I peered out to see not one, but 3 giant beasts tearing through the hospital. People were scattering and screaming everywhere. All Gypsy Group members I presumed. Several at a time were scooped up and pulled apart right before my eyes. Loud hums came, making it hard for me to focus on our escape. Tree John ran ahead of me, pulled my shirt to follow, and we exited the trap door. The giant beings were only part of the destruction. Tree John and I ran. A lower torso slammed into my back, pushing me to the floor and I slid on the blood of the dead. I looked up to notice horde after horde of black blood oozing zombies. They were pouring in from the doorways and windows of the hospital. Screaming and crying, the remainder of the Gypsy Group tried hard to escape. I saw men, woman, and child smash against the concrete walls of the hospital with every scream let loose from the giant beasts. They had a power that pushed and pulled with every inhale and exhale. I was in way over my head, and I became very afraid. Still on the floor, I slipped on the ooze and slime of the dead. I reached for Tree John and he grabbed my wrist. “LET’S GO LET’S GO!” Tree John screamed to me. We ran for an opening through the front of the hospital. A large hole leading to the outside, gave me perception of the battle I was in. I was covered in filth and slime. We ran out of the hospital and Tree John tripped over the body of Pup, who was moving. Tree John, instinctively thought Pup had turned zombie, and bent down to crush his head on the stone steps. “Wait, wait!” Pup cried out. “Look!”
                My vision blurred. The humming from the sky and the screaming from the beasts and moans from the hordes of zombies made me start to lose my reality. Or so I thought. The ‘pops’ that I heard in the dark hallways underneath the hospital came back.  Pup pointed upward, towards the sky. Beyond the humming, there were pops. Pops that randomly…. Popped. And when they did, through the twisting clouds and greyness of the sky appeared to be large, dark, but translucent objects. After the first pop, I saw what looked like a giant zeppelin shaped ship. Then it was gone after one or two seconds. I looked at Tree John, who still had his hand on the hat of Pup. We grabbed each other and ran toward the trees. Another oddity became part of my new reality as well. As we fled toward the trees, I saw 3 floating slabs of blackness. They were several feet off the ground, seemingly serving no purpose at all. But they were floating. With every grinding hum coming from the sky, also came a loud pop. And again, we looked up to briefly see a giant, ship like object hovering over us. I was scared and confused. Looking back to the hospital, zombies slowly shuffled out chewing on intestines, holding and eating heads like a sloppy watermelon. Several hands reached out from the trees and pulled us in to the darkness.
                I need to rest now, but Tree John as offered to finish. Tomorrow we have a meeting with everyone here at Southaven. We’ll keep everyone reading, up to speed.

                Until then, this is Paul. Kill’em All.

Friday, October 30, 2015

BOUNTY HUNTERS

BOUNTY HUNTERS
                November 2nd, 2013

                I had to cut off my last post. I’m tired and things aren't looking so well here at the hospital.. I know, you’re lost… Let me explain… quickly.
                Mock said he was an Intuitive. Meaning, he used the process of elimination to its maximum and was able to decipher situations, peoples thoughts, crack codes, frequencies… you name it. His deep hillbilly draw hides his knowledge. He explained all these things to me the following morning. After sleeping against a tree all night, he had me help him uncover branches and bushes where he hid the white ASMZ van he was being hauled in. The decorated suit that the ASMZ officer wore, was actually Mock’s. He was intelligence for the government, went rogue after finding out that they are all corrupt pieces of shit hell bent on destroying humanity for their so called Utopia. After finally being tracked down, the ASMZ stole his suit and used it to fool people, gaining access to places. It fooled me, and I consider myself pretty damn smart.. Anyway, all this news was nothing in comparison to what has happened just recently. As you know, our target is Southaven. A place where we will organize and lead the resistance to free the world of the ASMZ. And up until now, I thought we had a fighting chance.
                Mock said he had some friends he was going to meet. He didn’t say much more other than, “Don’t ask no stupid ass questions, and do what yer told chief. These people will take care of ya, but I swear on my gran’pappys grave, if you turn out t’be some kind’a pussy, well… Miss Luna aint gonna like that too much. And she might have to keel us both.”
                We drove to a compound he said he knew about. A hospital taken over by the famous Gypsy Group. I've read about them extensively in the two books I hold dearest to my heart. And as we drove, Mock’s bag was left open on the floor between us. It was full of porno mags, Copenhagen, and right on top were old copies of FrequenZ Alpha, and FrequenZ Sigma. We were on the same team. There was never any more question in my mind about that.
                Our drive led us through muddy back roads that he knew well. Navigating skillfully past old fences and barbwire posts leading further and further into the mysterious swamps of Louisiana. Occasionally, we got out and took the liberty of silent kills. Using guns wasn't the smartest thing out here. Keeping quiet and staying focused was key. Random zombies slogged through the terrain. Here and there we would see a zombied animal. Raccoon, or nutria that had been infected. We used bow and arrow, sling shot and even the old fashioned sling. Mock was exceptionally good with a sling. I gotta be honest though. The closer to Texas we get, the more disgusting the zombies get. Their eyes are damn near gone. Hollow sockets and oozing black pus falls from their faces. Even the hiss and growl they have, has an evil… almost tinny, winding sound. Hard to describe, but unforgettable none the less.
                We arrived shortly before dark at the Gypsy Group compound. Immediately I noticed zombies mounted high with stakes rammed through their entire bodies. Before I could even respond to the sight, Mock interrupted my thoughts. “Dear God…right? You were gonna say Dear God? I like to guess what people er’gonna say, before they say it… you know.. keep my shit up t’par… you know?”
                He was right… I was going to say that… Dear God.
                We walked up to the front door, and he went to knock. “Something aint right. You feel that?” Mock began to breathe a bit heavier. He placed both palms on the door, then his ear. A loud hum blasted through the air and shook my core. I hadn't felt a blast like this before. It was a blast… just to confirm. I felt dizzy, and wanted to vomit for a minute.. maybe longer. After the initial boom, a sound continued to wind and grind, forcing me to put my hands over my ears. Mock stepped back and kicked the door in to the old hospital. We both ran in and closed the door, slid a table in front of it and ran for the nearest closet to get away from the sound.
                There we stayed for what felt like an hour. It turned out to be a janitorial room. Small, but complete with a mob bucket. I know because I stepped in that bitch. The sound went away and we were able to see, and think straight again. “C’mon.” Mock had me follow him down a dark hallway.
                “This place is supposed to be lit up.” Mock began to calmly..panic. “There’s supposed to be kids and…people. There is supposed to be order and…fuck! What was that!” We both saw something run across the dark hallway ahead. It looked like a human, on all fours, but with really, really long arms. We both held up our weapons. Which were machetes. I had my pistol which I still haven’t used, and he had a pocket full of rocks and a sling. Out from the dark charged three zombies. They were running. I hadn't experienced anything like this before. They were screaming, airy, whining gurgles. Almost imitating the sound that we heard outside. We both drew our machetes.
                The first swing came from Mock. It stuck in the neck of the charging zombie. With not enough time to engage, his aim was off. He held the zombie at arm’s length trying desperately not to lose his machete, and keep the zombie at bay. The next swing came from me. I swiped the top portion of the zombies head completely off. Blood sprayed across my face and the floor, and the zombie dropped twitching. With Mock still retrieving his machete, I met the final zombie with force. I stabbed the machete between the milky eyes of the beast and followed it to the floor, making sure the death was final. I stepped hard on its head and pulled my blade out, looking to Mock to see if he still needed help. His zombie was fully decapitated. The body lay kicking and grabbing on one side of the hallway, and the head on the other. Still biting and gurgling out hisses and groans. Mock sat on the floor between the separation of the zombie. Puddles of blood and black ooze drained from the dead. The walls bore the signs of the battle, and a battle we had missed. But our fight wasn't over. Ahead in the dark, beyond the smears of blood and twitching zombies, stood a figure neither of us had seen before. His body crouched forward in the high ceiling of the hospital hallway. His long arms stretched out and grabbed the corners of the walls leading off in different directions. This was a beast. Something I am afraid of. For anyone reading this, please know that I pray to God that I never see this creature again.
                The being belched out loud scream. Low and vibrating, it sent a shock-wave through the hallway that met Mock and I with a force that threw us 10 or more feet back. Mock slammed his head on the corner of the wall and fell to the floor like a rag doll. I got to my hands and knees as soon as I could and fumbled my way around the corner to catch my breath. My hands were shaking so bad, I could barely check to see if my pistols safety was off. I sat against the wall, breathing heavily when I clearly heard the words..

UUUUUUZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

                My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I covered my ears and watched as everything in the hallway was blasted past the corner I hid behind. Desks, papers, and the bodies of the dead, and even Mock blew past me like there was a hurricane in the hospital.
                The books! Alpha ran through my head where it spoke of a creature named Uzzah… but that was in Africa! Was I looking at the creature itself? I swallowed hard, and looked around the corner cautiously. The dark, shimmering creature leaned forward and placed its hands on the ground. Its arms were so long that they reached out a good 4 or 5 feet in front of it, as it crawled and made its way closer and closer to me.
                I hid behind the corner again and looked to Mock. He was waking up. My sweat was dripping into my eyes and I began to taste the blood from the scab that Mock caused when he threw a rock at my head. Mock looked up, dazed.. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Mock noticed the creature slowly crawling its way toward us, and quickly found a corner to hide behind as well. He held his head because of his collision with the wall and started digging in his pocket.

UUUUUUZZZZZZZAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

                Again the creature belted out the name Uzzah. Ceiling tile and more papers gushed past us as we hid for our lives. The creature leaned forward, to gain the strength to belt another blast just as Mock used his sling shot and fired a pocket full of rocks behind the beast. The hallway went silent. I looked around the corner and noticed the creature investigating the sound that came from behind him. It was our chance. We ran for the door.
                To our disadvantage, everything under the sun was blocking our exit now! We separated and ran to the nearest windows leading outside. I ran and ran. I heard a window shatter and knew it was Mock breaking it so he could get out, so I did the same. With the butt of my gun, I smashed the window and climbed out, ripping the flesh on my arm wide open. As I sat there for the few seconds I had, thoughts came over me. What was happening? Did I just see what I think I saw? Should I go around the hospital and meet up with Mock? Am I losing my mind?
                A hard slap brought me back to reality. “You’re gonna bleed out! Put your hand on it and don’t say a fuckin’ word!” A beautiful, blonde headed warrior appeared out of my daze. She had electric blue eyes, a half open shirt with traces of dirt on her breast. Her jeans were torn at the knees and she too was bleeding. But not nearly as bad as I was. My arm was gushing blood. “Here…. Come here!” She loudly whispered through her teeth. We both crouched and made it to the front of the hospital. We looked around the corner to see an incredible sight.
                Between where Mock parked the van and the front steps to the hospital, sat a black slab. It sat about 4 feet off the ground on its own. From the front door of the hospital, reached out the long arms of the creature. First it’s stick like fingers, then its hands and arms. The body contorted itself to leave the doorway, revealing that it had no anatomy. There were strange carvings that covered its body. The creature was slimy and shimmering in the night’s reflections. It grabbed the slab that levitated, and pulled itself onto it. A chair of some sort raised itself from the surface of the slab. I turned to the blonde, and she simply pointed for me to continue watching this unbelievable event. The creature sat on what looked like a throne. Then came the zombies.
               

                A small horde of zombies slowly made their way out of the hospital and began to place their hands on the black slab. The creature in the throne seemed to climax at the attention from the dead. His body twisted and jerked as he sat, but never stood after that point. The zombies started to climb onto the floating slab, and as they did, 4 sides began to appear to come up. Slowly, a cube was being formed. Some of the zombs made it completely into the closing object, others were cut at the waist, spilling their intestines onto the grass below. Some had their arms cut off as they reached inward toward the creature, but they continued to reach. Almost as if they had to be near it. I was bewildered. Finally, the object formed a complete and solid cube of blackness. It reflected just the nearest things to it. I noticed the reflection of our van, and slightly the reflection of the wetness of the zombies that were split into pieces, which now lay on the floor of the Louisiana swamp lands. The cube was closed. And then, it was gone.
                “Boo!” I jumped and wet myself a bit as Mock scared me from behind. “Aint that some shit!? I told’ya I had some secrets! Man, I’m just getting’started too.”
                I was still speechless.
                “I see you met the beauty queen. Jessi here will take care o’that arm fer ya. Damn! That fucker made me swaller my dip!” Mock leaned against the wall and dug a can of Copenhagen out of his back pocket. The beauty queen Mock spoke of ripped the bottom portion of her shirt off and quickly wrapped it around my arm. “I’ll be topless if you make me do that again, use your own shirt next time ok?” She smiled at me and made me feel comfortable in new surroundings.
                “I’m Jessie.” She said. “I’m with the Gypsy Group and so are you. There’s one more here, and you’ll meet him later. For now, let’s keep our heads down and find a way to the basement. We have something to show you. Mock, you good?” Mock nodded yes as he stuffed a huge dip between his gold teeth and bottom lip. “We’ll get you fixed up. There’s a lot to cover before we TOP.” Mock mumbled under his breath, and I knew that he didn't want Jessie to continue whatever it was that she was talking about.
                “There has been a mass exodus of the hospital. We are the only ones left. Everyone that still lives, has arrived in Southaven.” Jessie checked my makeshift bandaged as she spoke. I realized that there was much more going on than saving the planet from a tyrannical government. Or even zombies. Everything I read in the previous two books started to make sense and started to put weight on my mind. The generators, Alpha and Sigma…. There was a third that the ASMZ was to find in order to complete their plan of world domination, open portals or whatever the fuck it was.. I remember a code that Lord Micah spoke of that only he knew… so many things I had forgotten about. I had so many questions that ran through my mind.
                “Take it easy chief.” Mock put his hand on my shoulder. “Everything will be answered.” I knew he knew what I was thinking. “Let’s get to the basement, and we’ll talk about it. We have you in our care now, and that’s what Gypsy Bounty Hunters do. You’re in good hands brother, and Luna will be pleased.”
                I sat and thought for just a second before Jessie grabbed my hand gently and quietly led me to the back of the hospital. “What did you mean by, before we TOP?” I asked. She smiled and said, “In short, it means Thread Off Planet… but we’ll get there. Let’s fix your arm, and get cleaned up. We've got a long ride to Southaven.. Now, no more questions, in you go.”
                She opened up a trap door leading downward into a dark stairwell. Mock stepped in first, then me, with Jessie in the rear. She closed and locked the door.

                From this point on, everything in my life, everything I thought I knew about my existence on this planet… why I’m here and where I’m going… changed. The phrase “We fight as one, until there are none” has a new and more impactful meaning. Give me a few days and I will explain. I’m tired, and there are giants out there. Give me time to recover.

                This is Cain. I am ZFC. 

Crazy

Crazy
                November 1st

                Sorry, I was tired… I needed sleep. Oh yea, it’s Cain.
                Um… where was I? Oh yea ha! Gold teeth. Yeah! I remember seeing gold teeth back on the highway at the truck stop where I picked up Dawn. God rest her soul. The white van that passed us, he was the dude that was handcuffed in the back, flipping me off! This was him! He loosened my wrists and I immediately went to punch him but to my surprise, he blocked it and threw a right directly into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.
                “My name is Mock.. I knew I knew you.” The hillbilly spoke. “Well aint this some shit! Small world ain’it?” I was having a hard time concentrating on how to decipher his backwoods language bent over with stomach pain in the middle of nowhere. “Ha! I’m just pullin’ yer chain chief. I know who you are. Them bitches I kilt sure didn't like you much! I reckon I might not either, but I sure as fuck hated them, so maybe we’ll get along… kill some zombies… find some women.. what’chu say to that chief?”
                 I looked up and saw who I was dealing with. “Ah c’mon Cain.. don’t look at me like that. I got some secrets you gonna’ like. And, I think it’s best you help me out. So let’s go. Camp is that way.” He pointed into the woods. And that’s where we walked.
                It was dark now. The stars were out and there wasn't much moon to light the way. Mock began speaking under his breath. “Chief, yonder is my fire and my camp. We’ll stay there tonight, then head out in the morning. But first we gonna have some fun.” We walked to a tall, dark tree where he handed me a machete. I assume he has them hidden all over the woods, and this one was for me. I was intrigued with the news that he had secrets, and that as jacked as this dude looked, we were on the same team.
                “Well chief, if you remember me, then you probably remember my friends.. Tweedledee and Tweedledum.” Toward the dark, through the trees and the sounds of night, his machete pointed out two zombies. “Let me formally introduce you.” He nodded his head for me to follow and grinned with his golden teeth shining in the little light we had.
               


                Hanging on two crosses, were the ASMZ officers I bumped into at the truck stop. The same that were driving Mock when he smiled and flipped me off just before wrecking my bus. Their entrails were dangling to the ground. Mock had split them opened before stoning me in the road. Their hollow voices spat evil sounds through the night and it made me uncomfortable. The highly decorated suit of one ex officer of the ASMZ made me nervous. “I see you remember our friends don’t you Cain.” “We need to get out of here, their sounds will only attract more zombs.” I told him. “You ZFC?” Mock interrupted. My mind flooded with questions. He knows the ZFC? He knows of the ASMZ? Who am I dealing with and what have I gotten myself into? Then, the bizarre, turned frightening.

                Mock looked at me. The reflection of his dying camp fire bounced off his scar ridden face. “Yes, I know the ZFC, Yes, I know of the ASMZ, and shit… is what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

MOCK

October 31st
                Mock

                It’s Cain. I can see that it’s been a few months since anyone’s posted. I’ve done my part and uploaded all my past writings to this tablet. I’ll get into how I got mine in a minute, but I wanted to catch you up to what I’ve found, and where I’m headed.
                The radio frequencies have been on and off. Every now and then I get a signal. Mostly ASMZ bullshit radio, only playing theme music remixes from the world’s favorite products. There’s only so many times I can hear the jingle for Samsung or LG before ripping my hair out and going Rambo on someone….. Maybe that’s their plan? At any rate, I’m still alive. After losing Dawn I became much more conscious and aware of the apocalypse. I see people. Well, we all see people… but look deeper. In their cars, in traffic, at the store, I don’t know.. Something is dramatically different than even a few months ago. There are zombies, yes. But humans are changing. Like… alive, but completely disengaged to the world around them. A look of gray, if that even makes since. Honestly, the only time I’ve seen people so dead, is just before they turn zombie.. and that’s not a good thought.
                Now, how did I get this tablet? Well, that is a strange story indeed. Like I posted a while back, I lost Dawn to the apocalypse, stole some poor bastards’ truck and headed south. I ended up on HWY 10 toward Louisiana. The truck I was in was low on gas, and I hit a patch of nowhere. I mean…. There was nothing around for miles and miles. Louisiana was hot. Sweltering hot. The lone road stared to show signs of debris and death. There were a few dead bodies on the side but nothing people haven’t gotten used to. The end of the world is definitely not what I thought it’d be. The trees were still green and the sky was big. That’s how I knew I was getting closer to Texas. What a big fuckin’ sky man. Anyway, things couldn’t have turned out more like a horror movie if I’d have dreamed it up myself. My truck ran dry, smack dead in the middle of a farm road, right off HWY 10. I knew I was close to Louisiana, but not sure how close. My plan was to hoof it, thumb a ride and see if they could take me toward Houston. Or see if they could tell me where the hell Southaven was. My plans never work out as I want them to.
                I walked for 20 minutes… oh… Happy Halloween btw. …I walked for 20 minutes or so, and was hit in the head with a rock. If it was a pebble, I’d of been fine. But it was a fist sized rock. The thud on the back of my neck dropped me to my knees in the middle of the road. It was getting dark, and my situation didn’t look good. I had a gun.. the one I stole from the glove box of the truck, but that was it. Before I could warn or try to save myself, a man.. very dirty, dug his knee into my back and held me down to the ground. He tied my hands behind my back and stood me up facing away from him. The pain in my head was excruciating, and I could feel a small trickle of blood pass through my right brow, drop over my eye and land peacefully on my cheek.
                Facing the woods, the man began to speak. “Now, we don’t have much time.. You see them trees there? Them trees is where we’re goin. And I don’t wanna hear no shit from ya, hear that?” I nodded yes. He continued. “Now, there’s a little bit o’dead back’ere, and some of it, is where we’re goin. So yer gonna help me git rid of it. Got it?” His breath stunk like Copenhagen, and hell itself. I could tell he was covered in dirt and grime from nature. I looked up over the tree line, where the sky was quickly turning to night. There was a smoke stack, and I assumed that that was where we were headed. The man didn’t sound educated, but desperate. He could obviously survive, but the shake in his voice gave his situation away to me. I was gonna beat this mother fuckers ass.
                “Now, we got some dead to kill boy. If I let you go, I’ll give you a rag to fix yer head… sorry ‘bout that.” The man spun me around and I saw his face. I knew this face. Through the dirt and desperation, I saw a crazed survivor. With Gold teeth. 

Friday, October 23, 2015

TO BE, OR NOT TO BE A GYPSY

AUGUST 25TH, 2013
It’s Paul.
 I call it a safe house, some call it ‘The Hospital’ still, and some even call it Hell. Either way, we seem to be stuck here. A lot has happened, and there’s some things I don’t want on this…. Tablet thing Luna gave me. She gave us all one. She wants us to put everything we have so far on this device. And, everything we post in the future as well. Something about creating a map for the future… or something. However.. there are other things. More personal things that I’d rather not place here. I’ll have to find somewhere else for that.
                She also wants us to post in our own words. She doesn’t want us to post for each other. She’s worried that there will be a he said she said argument at some point, and things will just be fucked. That’ll never work. Look at Tree John. He hates to post! Let me get to whats happened in the last month or so.
                We were taken from the hospital grounds. We were kept unclothed and blindfolded for at least 6 hours. In that time, I felt many things. Coldness, heat, sounds of beeping and what not. I heard zombies and rabid animals, probably turned zombie too. I thought many things as we were carted around, blindfolded. There were times where I could hear voices echoing off the walls of what seemed like a great cavern, and then.. no echo at all.
                Finally, our eyes were set free. Tree John and I were in a room. It was entirely blue. There was a 5 or 6 foot tall, full length mirror on the wall opposite us. We were still naked, but laid out before us were a set of clothes neatly folded on a table. It was bizarre dressing in front of Tree John like that. The floor and ceiling were even painted blue. Then, the sound of a door handle broke the eerie silence.
                In walked one of the Reds. Like I mentioned before, they were big men. Fire red hair and kind eyes. Huge hands held a brown canvas bag, and the other an e-cig. He puffed a few times, and placed the bag on the table. “I don’t really like that she calls us, THE REDS.” He took another puff. “In this bag you’ll find everything you’ll need to become a Gypsy. Strength in numbers…. Blah blah blah.” Tree John and I looked at each other. “Look guys.” Red spoke. “Things are about to change for you ok? Lots of things. It’s really important that you listen to Luna. She’s smart and she’ll take care of you. You just gotta… fight… you know?” There was an awkward silence in the blue room. “Anyway, I’ll give you boys a few minutes to figure this out. I’m not allowed to say anything but..” Then Red mouthed… “THE BAG GOES ON THE HEAD” He pointed at the bag on the table, then to his head multiple times. “Got it? Good. Good luck.” Then he drew another puff from his sweet smelling e-cig, and left the room. We heard 4 very loud LOCK LOCK LOCK LOCK from the other side of the door. We were locked in.
                “Well” said Tree John. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Nothin’ else to do eh?” We turned over the bag and out fell two Rambo style knives, zip ties, and several canvas bags, inside out, with a smiley faces painted on them. We looked at each other. I turned my canvas bag inside out immediately to find the same smiley face painted on it.
                “Could it be?” I said to Tree John. “Are we to be accepted as part of the Gypsy Group? You know… from the books?” I was dumbfounded. Tree John stood there with a confused look. I explained as best I could, about the Gypsy Group from my books. What they were, how they hunted, and killed. Where they got their funds from. Everything I knew, was from reading Books one and two. I explained to him that upon meeting a zombie, in most cases, they let the zombies live. But only to take its riches and place a smiley faced bag over its head. “It sends a message Tree!” I was excited and nervous at the same time. I felt honored and terrified. After all, we were just stripped naked, blindfolded and kidnapped. Tree John spoke. “So….. Just because, they’re gonna let us…. Join? Something isn’t right Paul.” He had a point. That’s when we heard the unmistakable sound of zombie, come from behind the wall with the full length mirror.
                “Fuck.” Tree John took initiative and grabbed both knives, and tossed me one. “Do you think we’re about to get initiated?” “I don’t know. Stay alive brother.” “Got a game plan?” “Um….. shit… Are we supposed to bag zombies? What the Fuck man!?!” Tree John was getting excited and confused, just as I was. And just as expected. There were zombies. The mirror on the wall was just a revolving door. It spun and was pushed open by the most vile zombies I had seen since arriving on the east coast from the UK. It was 4… no, 5 zombies total that drug themselves in to the room. Their skin was literally falling off their bodies. I saw rib cages, and exposed leg bones. These zombies were attacked by something. I just couldn’t tell if it was before or after they turned. Black ooze dripped from their face and open wounds, falling onto the blue floor. Bloody hands scraped across the blue walls with black and red traces of blood. “FUCK FUCK!” Tree John leaped on top of the table and held his bag open. “Fuck man! I’ve only killed zombies before, never put bags on their heads! What do we do?” It was time to get creative.          
                “Quick, get off the table!” I screamed at Tree John. He jumped down and took a battle stance. “Help me take out at least two of these bitches and we’ll decide what to do next.. ready?!?” We took the first two that lunged. I stabbed hard and downward on the skull of the first to die. Its head crumbled almost like an egg shell, where black ooze and brain seeped and spilled out all over the blue floor. Tree John sliced and sliced at the face and neck of his dead attacker. First opening gaping holes in the face, then exposing bone through the throat where the zombies head eventually snapped off and flew across the room. Blood an ooze shot from the neck and bodies, making the floor slippery. “Keep your footing!!” I screamed. The oncoming zombies slipped and stumbled over each other, reaching for us, belting out the hollow hissing moans we all know so well. “Grab the other end!” We picked up the table and used it as a wall, pushing the dead back against the wall with the mirror. There were only three left now. And I could feel the fatigue rush in. The floor was slippery, my hands were covered in blood and ooze, and I realized.. I was out of shape. We pushed the zombies back to the wall and wedged one end of the table in the ajar door, shattering the glass of the mirror. The zombies were stuck as Tree John and I pushed the other end of the table against the wall as hard as we could. “Bag’em!” Tree John broke away for a split second and grabbed the canvas bags. He fumbled, but placed them over the heads of the zombies who were struggling to get free, but were stuck. Once the bags were placed, I could let the table go.
                We stood back and watched in awe. The zombies, though still hungry, smelly, and screaming for death, were …… blind. They held their arms out and shuffled around in the room, occasionally slipping and falling. Then, getting back up. I eventually was able to put zip ties on their wrists. Some in front. Some behind, depending on the struggle the dead gave us. “What do we do now?” Tree John asked. I looked around at the mess we had made. The blood and ooze that splattered and smeared itself all over the room. The fresh new clothes we had that were now covered in zombie slop, and the truly odd sight of witnessing a Gypsy Group event. The bags were just the right touch. The stench was getting to us though. We tried the door that Red walked out, but it was still locked. So, we stepped over the carcasses of the dead and walked like we were invisible around the surviving 3, toward the dark opening that used to be a mirror on a wall.
                It was a long, dark hallway. At the end was a blinking red light. “Ready?” I said to Tree John. “Let’s go.” The blinking red light exposed what looked a dead end, brick wall. The hallway was very long. Much longer than I judged. Then, the light stopped blinking. We stopped dead in our tracks. In the darkness, we heard a door creek open, then closed. Then just like before, the red light began blinking again. But against the brick wall, revealed the silhouette of a man with what appeared to be… rabbit ears. 

Sunday, October 11, 2015

FINDERS KEEPERS

FINDERS KEEPERS
                July 27th, 2013


                Paul here. I’m not trying to write a book, so don’t expect daily notifications. We are here, we are alive. There are… more of us, to put it lightly. It’s not been the easiest transition, but we’re fed, and we learn about our mission as we go.. I’m getting way ahead of myself. Let me explain.
                I believe the last I spoke about was our position, the hospital. Still there… but it’s not ours, never was. I’ll get in to that in a minute. I also talked about the ARM program that the ASMZ introduced. The radio (when we had a good signal) explained that global vaccinations were mandated and being carried out. Something about a RECEPTION program, where recipients were able to pay for everything, and given benefits it they agreed to the terms. The scariest thing I heard about was the new walls they’re talking about erecting around every major city in America. Not sure coming here was the best choice after all. But that will all come to pass. Right now, I need to tell you about our gains, and our loss.
                There was, in fact, things in the woods outside the hospital. Shipley kept noticing things, randomly missing from our gear. Tree John walked back to the car to retrieve a knife he left under the seat, and came back to say that that too, was gone. So our car was gone, our gear was missing, and then there was the spooky witchdoctor, voodoo shit we found in the basement of the hospital. It all came to a head. What ended up was good, but the trial to get there was awful, and tragic.
                A month ago, our supplies were good. Despite things turning up missing here and there… things were safe. We knew at some point we had to continue our trek to Southaven, but the security of this creepy hospital served itself. We started, like I said before, to notice things in the woods. Voices started to call from the trees at night. Just…. Whoops and tribal screams. Very unnerving. Then, one morning, Tree John called us to look out a top floor window with him. There were dozens of tall stakes surrounding our safe house. Mounted on the stakes, and plunged entirely through, were bodies. Sacks with happy faces painted on them were tied on their heads, not to reveal their horrid and bloody faces. Then, our room was rushed.
                Several black men, with white skulls painted on their faces and white powder smeared over their genitals and buttocks, grabbed us and drug us down three flights of stairs by our hair. The smell of the tribal men was awful. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away from our assailants but was unsuccessful. We were drug outside in the early morning. Our faces were held down to the dirt with several feet preventing us from getting up. Even more naked men surrounded us and held our arms toward the ground. They were mumbling a foreign language, and I couldn’t understand. Shipley fought the hardest. Yelling and cussing. Yet he too, was unable to break free. Tree John was the calmest of us all. Watching and doing what he was told. We gave in to their brute strength that took us all by surprise.
                A female voice came from beyond the men. I couldn’t see, but the voice continued. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.” A group of men drug a large bag next to my face. One of the tribal men walked toward me with a knife and held it to my face, backed away, then sliced the large bag open revealing all the things that had gone missing over the last several weeks.
                “Finders Keepers.” The female voice spoke. Then she spoke again, in a foreign tongue. My head was grabbed and turned toward Tree John and Shipley. Shipley was drug backwards by his feet, forced to sit up and place his hands in his lap, where his wrists were tight tightly with a rope. Shipley glared at me. My face was crammed in the dirt, and a million things were going on in my mind, but at that moment I was forced to think about one thing. And one thing only.
                Tree John and I were also sat up, on our knees with our hands tied together at knife point. The tribal men began to part, opening a walk way for who we were about to meet. A very beautiful, and strong woman walked through painted, naked men. She squatted next to me. I could smell her skin over any scent of the men, or the trees. She held a small pocket knife. My hair was clenched and my head was pulled back. She ripped open my shirt and began feeling over my chest, and then my back. In their language, she motioned for two other men to do the same to Shipley and Tree John.
                We were being searched. “Do you know why you’re here?” The lady questioned. A few zombie moans from the woods belted out. She quickly called out two men to go handle the interruption. “You came here to die.” She spoke to me again. “NO, NO.” I told her. “We are going to Southaven. We aren’t even from America! We’re tired of the humming from the sky! Please, please let us go and we’ll never come back. We’ll never tell anyone you’re here!” I begged and begged. More than I ever had before. I was embarrassed and ashamed.
                The lady took my hands and cut my ropes. I was free, but forced to sit still. She stepped over to Tree John and asked him the same. “Do you know why you’re here?” “FUCK YOU…BITCH.” Tree John has no filter, and it scared me. “Hurry up and kill me you pieces of shit!” She smiled, and looked at me. She sucked a bit of air thru her teeth and stood up. She walked over to one of the bodies rammed through with a stake. She called out to one of her tribal men to come to her. He picked her up and held her high enough to pull the sack off the face of the deceased. “Do you know who this is?” She asked. The tribal man placed her down, and she swatted his ass as he got back into formation. “This is a member of the ASMZ. In fact, all 30 bodies you see around here, are members of the ASMZ.” She then untied the belt of the dead, dropping the pants to its ankles. “You see this?” She pointed to his calf where I noticed a blue, upside down triangle tattooed on its flesh. “This guy is ASMZ, well…. Used to be ASMZ. Then he turned zombie, and now he’s dead. Now, take your pants off.” I looked around and realized it was go time. She wanted me naked. Like….NOW. I got up and shed the rest of my clothes.
                She walked to Tree John, released his ropes and commanded him to do the same. Reluctantly, Tree John complied. Finally, she walked to Shipley. Before Shipley could take his pants off, I notice urine escaping slowly down his leg. He bent over to remove his shoes, and the lady stabbed him in the back of the neck. His body dropped like a load of wet laundry. I ran, naked across the openness of the group and held him. “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! YOU ANIMALS!” The lady quickly sliced my face with her pocket knife and demanded that I remove his pants. His urine was everywhere, and the blood coming from the back of his head soaked my skin and the hair on my arms. “Hurry up you dummy, he’s gonna turn!” The lady prodded. I took his pants down and to my astonishment, I saw the same, blue upside down triangle tattooed on his calf.
                “Now, come naked, because you stink. We’ll clean you and give you new clothes but you must be quiet and not be pissed at me later.” She spoke to me, but I was too confused. Tree John was speechless. “Get a hold of yourself and don’t forget what I’m about to tell you.” I stood there, naked with Tree John and tried to listen as closely as I could. “The Reds will help you both until later, where you’ll meet the rest of our team. You don’t know them, but you will.” She shewed the tribal men out of the way and called for the Reds. “Reds. Come please!” Two rather large men with prominent red beards came from behind the other men. They stood there and looked at us and our naked bodies. “I don’t know.” One Red said to the other. “Should we trade?” “Yes, lets trade.” They swapped places, pulled back and punched us directly in the jaw.

                We both fell, and I was barely conscious. Tree John was completely asleep. I remember the trees above. The sun trying desperately to create a day through the early morning. Just before passing out, I felt her body mount mine as I lay on the dirt floor in front of the hospital. She was warm. She put her face close to mine, looked directly into my eyes and said, “I’m Luna. Leader of the Gypsy Group.”
This is Cain.
                Things have changed

                I flagged down a passing truck. He stopped and I ran to the window. I told him up front that I had a friend in the woods just past the tree line waiting for my call. The driver looked nervous. I don’t blame him one bit. We looked like zombies. I’m surprised he didn’t just run me over. He gripped his wheel, took several deep, pondering breaths and nodded yes. I turned and called for Dawn, who slowly, timidly walked out from the tree line. I noticed a blue tarp in the back of the man’s truck. It was covering something. Mentally noted.
                Dawn finally got to the truck. I offered for us to sit in the back, but the driver stuttered and stumbled over his own words saying, “NO NO! Up front. Up front’s fine!” We obliged. And off we drove, headed south. The man never asked where we were going, but kept looking in the rear view. I explained to him, in more detail that we weren’t just stranded in the woods, but that we were attacked by a large, menacing man driving a black diesel. That’s when things got….different…
                My mention of the man who calls himself BIG RIG, destroyed the driver. He became physically upset. He started crying and tapping the steering wheel. Dawn was sitting between the driver and me, and she too became nervous. The driver constantly looking in his rear view. Dawn began to cry out of fear, squirming in her seat, she reached for the door handle. She was trying to get out. “Stop it! Stop it!” I yelled at her. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” She was not to be contained though. She bounced around in her seat, finding any way around me and the driver to leave the truck. She turned completely around in her seat and tried to open the window leading to the bed of the truck. I grabbed her hard, and saw her face turn from fear to complete nightmare. She went silent, and then let out a scream I will never forget.
                It forced me to look in the bed of the truck. The wind hand blown the blue tarp back and exposed the headless, bloody bodies of 4 people. “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!” The driver lost it. I was in shock at what I saw. Dawn was damn near in convulsions. The driver looked at me, and angrily screamed, “You! You’re with him aren’t you! He sent you didn’t he!” He grabbed Dawns hair and started bashing her head into the dashboard of his truck. “Stop it!” I yelled at him and tried to take his hand away from her. Nothing worked. I’m not sure, even now, why I did what I did. But I poked him in his eye. It must have been the adrenaline but I poked him…. Much harder than I wanted to. I felt his eye push back into his skull, and then came the blood. The man covered his eye with both hands, screaming and swearing. Dawn fell down into the floor board of the truck, holding the back of her head, and I sat in the passenger seat, wondering what in the fuck have I done. The truck slowed down. The man was still screaming while I tried to explain to him that we weren’t with anyone. The truck veered slowly to the side of the road where I saw something I thought I’d never see. A very odd group of zombies, almost waiting for us.
                The truck rolled to a stop, and Dawn exited the truck as fast as she could, screaming bloody murder. I got out of the truck as well, went around to the back, and lowered the tail gate. The driver stumbled out crying and continued to cuss me. “BIG RIG, he killed them! My family…. They’re all dead!” I then realized that we were just part of a long trail of blood left by a monster, driving a black truck. I looked back into the bed of the truck, and noticed the bodies of what used to be two small boys, a girl in a yellow Sunday dress, and a woman. They were all gruesome. The man held his eye and screamed, “Take me Lord! Take me to my family! End me here please Lord!” He wept and stumbled toward the trees along side of a silent road. Silent, except for a group of zombies that had a very peculiar….. thing about them.
                The man stopped short of the tree line, crumbled to his knees and began vomiting, probably out of grief and exhaustion. It gave me a moment to look harder at the zombies, which were slowly approaching. They had what looked to be……sacks…. On their head. Bags if you will. Plastic grocery sacks. On them, spray painted were what I can only explain to be…. Happy faces.
                As I looked, a hum came from the trees, or the sky… I’m not sure. The man, holding his eye, picked his head up and looked around. Dawn, had stopped screaming. The hum grew louder and louder. The driver screamed “TAKE ME NOW LORD, TAKE ME NOW!” I glanced in the direction of Dawn who was just screaming in the center of the road, and she was lying face down on the pavement. I ran to her and noticed my knife in her right hand. She had slit her throat. There was blood everywhere. I rolled her over to see her eyes twitch and vibrate as she coughed her last breath. I held her in the center of the street while she bled out in my arms.
                The hum grew even louder. My mind started to feel numb. She fell out of my arms and I had to place my hands over my ears. It was getting harder for me to see straight, but I started back towards the truck, hoping it would protect me from some of the sound. I climbed in, closed the door, and held my ears. The sound changed. From a constant grinding hum, to a winding hum that twisted in and out of volume. My vision changed, and I could feel it in my teeth. And then, it stopped. My hearing slowly returned, and I was able to look up. I was in the driver’s seat. My hands were both placed at 12 o’clock, and my forehead rested on them. I could see just over the dash and just under the steering wheel. The man continued to weep. Laying on his back, I watched him and remember thinking if I should just leave him there to die, or comfort him after losing his family to Big Rig. My thoughts were interrupted though. The body of Dawn threw itself over the hood of the truck. She didn’t notice me, but the crying man lying next to the trees. She wasn’t Dawn anymore either. She had turned. I don’t know if it was the sound in the sky, described in the books, or if she was attacked in the woods and hid it from me, or what… but she was definitely not Dawn anymore. Her eye was on the man. She hissed and scratched toward him. Her throat slit, still bleeding everywhere, left a huge trail across the hood of the truck. I put the truck into gear, and crawled away.
                I slowly passed the group of zombies that had their heads covered in bags with smiley faces on them. Windows rolled up. And the muffled sounds of Dawn the zombie devouring the driver, gurgling his bloody words, “Thank You Lord, Thank You.”
                I’m headed south. The last overhead sign I saw was HWY 10, leading to Louisiana. I’m alone now. It seems that there is still life in some of the towns. I stop for gas only. I found a 9mm in the glove box of this old truck. Bullets under the seat. A picture of his family in the sun visor. I’ll report back when I have more news. I don’t like to get all spiritual and stuff, but if you pray….well….. go ahead and pray.
                This is Cain.

Death Road

Death Road
                APRIL 20TH, 2013

                Dawn doesn't say much. Since we left my bus, things have gotten better; but she’s still quiet. She’s obviously offended that I mistook her as a prostitute… but I can’t apologize enough. Well, let’s see. Where to start. It’s April now. The snow was magical, but it almost left me with frostbite. In my community back home, I was the ‘go to’ for how to survive in the wild. Even I get caught up in the demons Mother Nature brings. So…. The bus. We left our location, but not until I scoured the crash site again. The snow had covered most of everything up, but I found the bodies of my team. Their headless bodies made this all very real. They were my friends. Dawn stood there in the cold, watching me bury my brothers.
                There were zombies in the woods. We could hear them. But zombies weren't our fear. To this day, the sound of a diesel engine forces Dawn into any nearby corner. She trembles like a leaf in a breeze when I try to talk to her about it. I paid my respects as best I could, and we left. We stayed in the woods off the road and headed south. The further south, the warmer it would get. There were several places along the way that we camped. Very small fires, very quiet days and nights. In the distance, at least three times since then we heard the hum. It was as my books described. The hum would wind in and out, sounding like a vast number of different things, but they were never a comforting feeling.

                We had our share of odd things happen as well. I kept a close eye on the highway. I knew that our target was Southaven, but getting there in one piece was top priority. Finding ‘real’ clothes for Dawn was important too. She was wearing blood stained clothes that I took off one of my crew after the wreck. She was half naked and beautiful. But upstairs, she was gone. I need her to be aware and ready to help me fight zombies, but right now…. She’s just….gone.. I hear a vehicle. I need to find a ride. I’ll post in a moment.

Friday, October 2, 2015

Only a Fool


                April 4th, 2013

 

                It’s been a month or so since I’ve posted anything. So much has happened. Since I left Norfolk, I have met many people, done many things, killed many zombies, and learned many things about this crazy ass world we live in. Normally for April Fools day back home, we would play practical jokes on people in the bar. It seems someone has played a pretty good one on me. I’ll start by saying that I won’t be trusting anyone from this point on. I picked up a hitchhiker yesterday. It had been a long drive by myself. I have made several pit stops along the way. And everyone knows it doesn’t take over a month to drive from Virginia to Texas. But it’s the apocalypse. Shit happens!

                Most of the towns I drive through seem pretty tame. Hell, I’ve stayed several days in a few of them because they are so….what’s the word….magical. I am convinced the ASMZ has taken over the world by now. Some of these towns seem so happy and serene, then around the corner comes a giant ASMZ tank or a dozen or more armed officers. At the same time, the grocery stores are open, the hospitals are open.. looks pretty clean and nice. As I travel west though, I have noticed more fences and barbwire facing inward toward the villages and cities.

It’s wild, but who knew the government had so much fencing and barbed wire? I mean, that shit is everywhere! Ugh, anyway…. Like I was saying. I picked up a hitchhiker.

                It was in the middle of the day. I was driving and the sun was out. The weather is changing and getting hotter and hotter the more I travel toward Hell…..I mean Texas. And there he was. Walking on the side of the road like a God. No shirt, cowboy hat, Wrangler jeans and boots, with his left hand out and thumb sticking up. I had to stop….right ladies? I pulled over and he trotted to the car, got in, and melted my heart. Darker skinned white boy with electric blue eyes. He was all sweaty and stuff. So hot. Anyway, it wasn’t a mile up the road and I caught him lookin at my boobs. I was slightly uncomfortable, but turned on at the same time and decided to spark a conversation. “Where are you headed?” He was quiet, then finally said… “Here’s fine.”

                That ass hole made me pull over at gunpoint and stole my damned car! It had all my gear in it and everything too! That pretty boy got to me… but that’s not the best part. He drove off until I almost couldn’t see him anymore. I heard the faint sound of screeching tires, I saw tire smoke from ahead, then watched my car flip over and over on the highway ahead of me.

                I drew my knife out and began running to the car. I was gonna kill that bastard. When I finally got to there, the God Boy was gone. I wanted to see if he’d bleed as good as he looked. I had my good knife out too…. But he was gone. If you know your way around, I was several miles south of Montgomery, Alabama. It was a long stretch of road on highway 65. There I stood, with a dirty ass shirt, tattered shorts and a knife in my hand. Then, I heard a whistle. Not just any whistle…. A cat calling whistle. I was used to it, working in bars my whole life. But out here in the wild with zombies and crazy ass government shit going on… you never know what you’re going to run up on.

                Then I heard a tinny, annoying voice. “You good?” I didn’t know where it came from. And muffled quietly, I heard another voice, but I couldn’t make out what it was saying. Again, I heard, “Are. You. Good?” I was standing there with my blade out, sweat soaked clothes and ready to kill, but had to answer. “I’m fine, but if you stole my car, Imma’bout to whip your ass!”

                I stood there, glanced at my car which is FUCKED, then noticed two, white bunny ears stick out from around a tree. A man with dirty white bunny ears stepped out into sight. His left arm was hidden behind the tree, but was being pulled here and there for some…reason. He looked…. Comfortable. He looked at me, then rolled his eyes… “No you silly, are you GOOD… like… in bed?”

                It took me a minute to realize that this little bunny man was serious. It just pissed me off. I started towards him, and he pulled a body from behind the tree. It was my blue eyed devil. Duct tape around his mouth, tears streaming from his blue eyes and his arms zip tied together behind his back. “Looky what I have!”

                I stopped dead in my tracks. The bunny man began to speak. “Look, I’m on my way to a place, I need people to go with me and you should be totally excited to come….with me…..”

                I replied. “FUCK. YOU. Keep that bitch and don’t follow me. I have to find another car, you crazy ass….. bunny. Man!”

                “Actually.” The man began to speak. “My name is Pup… at your service. I have transportation, and I can take you away from….those.”

                He pointed behind me and beyond my poor wrecked car. ZOMBIES. Where did they come from? There seemed to be a few small hordes of them, but still….WTF?!? I was exhausted too. I started counting how many there were, and got lost after 10 heads.. Fuck it. I kicked the glass out of the back window of my car, which was on its side now, and grabbed my Go Bag. It had all my shit in it, only a few knives though. I didn’t have time to grab everything. Fuckin’ zombies man!!! AAAAGGGHHHH!!! “Lead the way!” I said sarcastically to the bunny man.

                He grabbed blue eyes by his hair and started dragging him into the brush. “Where are you taking me?” I asked… Then I asked again. Bunny man just pointed through more dense brush leading further into the trees of Alabama. Then I saw where we were going. Through the trees I saw a green shimmer. Bunny man stopped and turned, faced me, then bowed like a gentleman….crazy rabbit…. “For you madam.”

                It was a fucking plane… A FUCKING PLANE!! “We really should hurry though, those zombs looked hungry.” Bunny man looked a bit more frazzled as he opened the side door and threw blue eyes in. I noticed he said zombs. I hadn’t heard anyone outside the ZFC call the walking dead that… made me start to wonder.

                “Please strap in.. you can sit up front on me…by me.” That little bunny man is a pervert. But he’s my ride out so I had to play along…..no pun intended.

                He turned on the engine, the propellers sputtered on and began to hum loudly. They spun so fast they disappeared. I was deathly afraid of flying, but against a growing horde of zombies, I’ll take almost any avenue out of there. The plane slowly turned and went down a hill. We gained speed. I looked out the windows and watched the flaps move upward as the plane lifted from the ground.

                I watched the earth pull away. I saw hordes of zombies gather in different places. There were more than I thought there’d be. Bunny boy spoke over the engine noise. “We’re headed south west! I’m meeting friends in New Orleans! You’ll be safer… Trust me!” I could barely hear him over the sound of the plane, but I smiled, grateful for the ride out of the woods and zombies. He smiled back, and put his hand on my leg.

                Then I slapped him hard, in the face, breaking his glasses. Besides blue eyes in back crying through the duct tape over his mouth… it was a pretty quiet flight. I’ll check in soon enough. Stay safe out there. This is Jessi, hoping for a shower, and signing off.