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.

Best Place to Die


                March 15th, 2013

 

                Why am I taking time out of my day to record this shit? Ok… formalities…. This is Tree John, I’m in a hospital that’s creepy as fuck, and I think we should have left a long, long time ago. There, that’s all I’m recording. Now here’s Paul.

 

                Paul here. Excuse Tree Johns short attention span. We are in an abandoned hospital just off of I10. For the most part, we’ve had this place all to ourselves. Or we thought we did. After we ran out of gas on the freeway, we found this place (well, Tree John found this place) and decided to use it as a base of operations. What we wanted to do is hope that people would wander thru, and we’d recruit them to be a part of the ZFC. That idea, was noble, but it sucked. No one has come through. But we have seen some action. ZOMBIES.

                After days and days of seeing no one, the sight of a few zombies was almost a joy. Don’t judge me. It’s true. I’ve lost almost every member of my family….. that I know of, and these two jack asses do their best to accompany me, but I’m restless. Zombies help pass the time. There’s actually a lot to cover. So I’ll just start.

                Like I said, I think we’re not alone here. After clearing all the rooms of zombies, we drug their bodies out to the back of the building and set them all on fire. There seems to be plenty of supplies here in the hospital. We found the kitchen, where there was no power, but plenty of canned goods. Some of these rooms were actually spotless. I wonder if they were just opening. The zombies we killed were obvious patients. I would go into gory detail, but I’m not really that way. That’s more Shipley’s thing. He’s told us some crazy stories from back home, so I’m sure he’ll entertain you with horror at some point.

                The basement is where we found most of our wonders. I just came up from there and I can tell you this, I’ve never seen a collection of so many odd, and dark things. There are skulls, and bones everywhere. There are symbols and chimes hanging all over the ceiling. It’s very odd. Tree John puts up a good front, but he won’t even go down there! Shipley keeps saying he sees things in the woods at night, but when we look as a team, we see nothing. Going out beyond a 100 yard border has been decided to be a bad idea, at night. There are strange sounds here at night. And during the day, we go out as a team to scout the area and put down zombies for entertainment.

                I do wish we had company though. Like a woman….. just to break the overwhelming conversation of man talk. I’m going to investigate the basement more and report when I find something. I don’t want to get weird, but I want to say Voodoo. It looks like Voodoo took place down there.

                One last thing, then I’m off. The sounds from the sky have been coming back. They sound differently each time and they aren’t predictable like they used to be. Shipley has a battery powered radio that he brought from the car, and we only use it at 7pm every night. The ASMZ rules the radio with shit music, but every once in a while, we hear an interruption from our favorite THORN from THORN TREE RADIO. ……don’t know why I capitalized that… he’s a good listen though. He’s been saying that the ASMZ has made a giant step in global domination. The leaders of the world have basically surrendered all power to the organization, making it the most powerful governmental force on the planet. Very strange and hard to believe. But he went on to say that it’s a complete cover up. That as far as the rest of the world knows, its business as usual, with opposing political sides and nations. The other thing he covered before breaking out of his transmission, was that the president has signed a new health care bill, and renaming it the ARM. Then the signal was lost, and it was right back into the commercial crap music. I’m not sure what all this means, but if there truly is a one world power, controlling everything that happens on the planet, then the prophecies are coming true. If the health care system is a part of that, then the world would all have to abide by the same rules. I trust in what Thorn is saying, and I care about our freedom. So I will push on and we will reach Southaven. We will meet there, where further instruction is given and we will defeat the ASMZ, kill the zombies, and attain the third generator.

This is Paul, signing out.

 

                Hey this is Shipley.

Somebody took the black beans from my bag, and I know both of you bitches read this stupid thing. Give it back, or I won’t share the Penthouse magazine I found on the third floor.

Yours truly, kiss my ass.

Worse than I Imagined

 

     

                March 1st, 2013

 

                Cain here. It’s cold. It shouldn’t be though. At least I don’t want it to be. I haven’t logged my status in several days. No reason other than I’m exhausted. I’ve lost everything. My bus. My crew. My guns. Everything. There’s only me and, who I thought was a prostitute… She isn’t. I apologize for stereotyping. Her name is Dawn.

                It’s about 4am. We are inside my bus. It’s turned upside down….I’ll explain here in a minute, but it’s the warmest in here. Soon as the sun comes up, we’ll try to hitch a ride. Freeways aren’t typically the best place to go according to most apocalyptic books I’ve read, but when it’s cold and you’re low on supplies like we are, you can count on how disgusting littering humans are. People have been throwing things out their windows forever, and I’m looking for things to burn, so we’ll scavenge the freeway sides and beneath bridges and such. Woods too cold and crisp right now, and we need a quick set up if I find a squirrel or bird to eat. Hope it doesn’t gross out Dawn too much.

                Dawn. I mistook her as a prostitute back at the gas station. I mean, she was dressed in fishnet stockings (which I might need to use later if I find a creek). I admit, I was wrong. Very wrong. The two mystery men I met at the gas station did in fact work for the ASMZ. According to Dawn here, there was much more going on. She told me that her and her girlfriends were kidnapped by the mystery men, and forced to dress that way. It was a sex traffic operation going down. She also told me that her and her friends were supposed to be traded for a man with golden teeth. As soon as the zombies started to attack from outside, all hell broke loose and the distraction took the mission away from the ASMZ. I remember the man with golden teeth. That’s the bastard that flipped me off on the highway before I lost control of the bus.

                Dawn’s friend, Megan turned zombie. Two of my crew stomped her face into the plastic floor board of the bus while Dawn screamed Megan’s name, and my crew apologized… but

 

commenced. The last thing I remembered was looking up at the road, and seeing the grill of a huge black semi.

                We were in a head on collision. The semi hit us on the twisted, and cold roads of the mountain side. I was strapped in my seat when the truck plowed through the passenger side of the bus, just missing me. 3 bodies shot forward, as they weren’t strapped in. It was the now headless zombie Megan, and the two of my crew that were unbelted. They asked me to never talk about them if they were to die, so I won’t give names. I watched the first of my crew smash and die as the truck practically split my bus in two. By the time I realized how much blood there was… I was out.

                When I woke up, I could barely move. My body was sore and I was bleeding from my elbow. My head hurt and I remember distinctly how worried I was about having a concussion. I rolled over and beheld the destruction. In and out of view, my sight was blurred. All I could hear was the crackling of fire, a few night insects, and a woman, weakly cursing from a distance away. I rolled to my back side and focused on breathing deep. In and out. In and out. My other senses started to come back, and I could hear the faint sound of a diesel engine. My eyes were closed but I could also make out a new sound. It sounded like two rocks grinding together.

                I took one last deep breath and opened my eyes. I sat up, and leaned against a cold tree. The environment came into view. I looked to my left and saw a lady cursing, and crawling away from the wreckage. Through the destruction and pits of flame here and there. Through the cold and dark, I looked to the right, and saw a very large man, in overalls. It was dark, so I mostly saw flickering reflections of what horrors were happening.            

                I was weak, and unable to scream, move quickly, or help the sobbing lady. So I sat there and watched. The large man was going through the wreckage, snatching bodies up by the hair, and sawing their heads off. That explained the grinding sound I heard. I squinted and tried to see something else through the reality, but there was only this….nightmare. One by one, he picked through my crew and skillfully removed the head from the body. Each head he would take, and hold up to his face, and begin to talk. Blood rushed out from the severed heads, and I recognized them all.

                I tried to mutter……something, but I was unable. The large man tossed the heads up, into the cab of his truck. I pray to God that my crew were all dead before having their heads sawed off. The man picked through some of the destruction and fire, picked up a rock and tossed it at the woman who was now screaming and crawling away. I think he was just teasing the living. This was a monster of a man.

                He squatted down, picked and prodded at one of the small fires, then stood up and stretched. As he did, he yelled loudly in to the night. His giant arms open wide and span out like a pterodactyl. Steam left his mouth and rose, disappearing in the cold. Then, turned around, stepped up into his truck and pulled the door shut, revealing the name BIG RIG in green letters. Brittany Spears Oops I Did It Again was turned up loudly from inside the cab. The truck was put into gear, and he slowly drove over the debris, and onto the road.

                The early morning was here. The fog had set in, but so had my vision. Although it was still dark, I could make out that this truck was death. Black on black, a large ASMZ logo on the side, and peculiar iron windows lining the outside. It was either some sort of smaller transport truck or just meant for war.

                That’s that. Dawn and I are the only survivors. We crawled into the bus, which is mangled and turned upside down. We found some blankets on the ceiling….floor….whatever, and are staying warm with our breath. Like I said. When it’s light, it will warm up and we will continue. I never thought this trek to save what’s left of my nation was going to be easy. I know that I’ve been reading these two books a lot, and they have heavily influenced me. But I wish I had confirmation on what I was doing was right…. You know? I remember in the second book, there were some ZFC in Africa, and Eddie wasn’t corresponding with them. They were completely left in the dark, wondering if what they were doing was right…or real for that matter. I’m in the same boat now. But with zombies everywhere, and the ASMZ taking over everything, I feel like I’m doing the right thing. Onward to Southaven.

                This is Cain.

                KILL’EM ALL

Thursday, October 1, 2015

An Interruption in the Matrix

                February 21st, 2013

 

Transcribed conversation:

Austin Reeducation President & ARM Ambassador

Interpreted by Barry Soeterror

 

Conversation initiated by the Austin Reeducation President

 

AR-Thank you for joining me Ambassador. We have much to cover.

 

AA-Yes. We do

 

AR-Are you confident that your health program will be accepted by

the masses?

 

AA-We don’t have a need for confidence.

 

AR-yes, but are you certain, your campaign to push the ARM program is strong enough to win over the likes of both republicans and democrats alike?

 

AA-our campaign reaches as far back as the first humans on this planet Mr. president. As you know, we have given you a guarantee that our plan, thru your banking system and media, will provide you with the utopia you have described to us.

 

AR-Are you and your kind on board with the number of 80%?

 

AA-The number of 80% is a number that is insignificant to us. That is your number, and we do not deem it admissible to our agenda. Your biggest concern Mr. President, is that you deliver our energy.

 

AR-Surely you must understand that ‘your brand’ of energy isn’t the easiest to come by. We have set in place every possible scenario, every major false flag coverage by the media you yourself have been in charge of, covering the next several years for your event to take place by 2018.

 

AA-We do not care what words you use for total annihilation.

 

AR-ok, please meet us half way. Your kind introduces the ARM program as the AMERICAN REST METHOD. Correct?

 

AA-Yes.

 

AR-And we are in charge of selling the idea that, people should be more apt to taking your medicines and following your health care guidelines, than being sick from the toxins ‘you gave us’ to crop dust and chem-trail with for the last 50+ years?

 

AA-Mr. President. It is not our concern weather or not humans stand up against the way we kill them. The ARM campaign will re-introduce mass genocide, mind control, race war, and deadly medicine in a way that every human will happily agree with. Mr. President, we are not here to save the human race. It is your right as a leader of your people to sincerely want a utopia to raise your families in. Your demand for a population decrease is true and just. Again, we do not care about what means you die, we care about the energy we receive in return. You will be left with a beautiful planet, new and scar free of turmoil. You will not fret with juvenile distractions like free will and hope. It will just be. Do you understand Mr. President?

 

AR-I do. Do I have your word that, you will honor this pact, and your kind will follow thru on your campaign to make this world what it was meant to be?

 

AA-If you deliver the children and their innocence, you will have your Utopia.

 

End of transcribed conversation.