Zombie Fallout 9 Read Free Page B

tongue, but he kept it to himself. The kid was beginning to freak me out. Like he knew all sorts of nasty things that were about to happen but was hesitant to tell us as if he were protecting us from their exposure.
    â€œWhat’s with him?” BT dragged a huge couch over to me. I don’t even know where he got it from.
    â€œBeats me.” But again, I kind of knew. In my head, I was berating Tommy for not cluing us in, and yet here I was doing the same damn thing. Frigging irony is a bitch, nope wait, it’s karma that’s a bitch. So what’s that make irony? An asshole, perhaps?
    BT dropped the couch and sat down heavily, Gary next to him, Mad Jack taking up the far end. Ron and Nancy started dragging in folding chairs and barstools and basically anything someone could sit on including a bean bag that had been around since the Nixon era. In an impromptu gathering, the entire household save one was present. I wrote out the list of people for a couple of reasons, the first I guess is just historical fact and second because it would never happen again. Not with this cast of characters anyway, and those that died they at least deserved this small mention. Ron; Nancy; their three kids, Meredith, Mark, and Melissa; Gary; Mad Jack; Trip and his wife, Stephanie; my sister Lyndsey, her husband Steve, and their kid Jesse; Tracy’s mom, Carol; the four kids we’d saved from the convenience store, Dizz, Sty, Ryan, and his sister Angel; me; Tracy; and a very pregnant Nicole, along with Travis and both of our adopted kids, Tommy and Porkchop; plus Dennis and Jess’s baby brother, Zachary. The only noticeable absence was Justin, who had not said more than a handful of words to anyone in the last week. Even Henry and his new friends were with us. I noticed he was very cozy with the female dog, though I was having a hard time remembering her name for some reason. The cat, Patches, thankfully stayed away from me as if she knew that I was not all that fond of felines and may never again be, given my exposure to them. I’d talked to Ron a couple of times about her suddenly finding herself out in the woods really far away from the house, but he would hear none of it.
    I think it was Trip that cracked out the beer. “Let’s get this party started!” he shouted right before lighting his bong, taking a huge hit, and then downing the “water” which was actually beer that he’d used as a filtration system. Ron could only shake his head. Normally, he’d kick the stoner outside to do it. But right now, we were all together. Living, laughing, and loving, and in reality, that’s all that life is about.

3
Mike Journal Entry 3
    I t was another week . The most exciting thing that had happened was that the damned cat had killed a mouse and left it by my bedroom door. I swear it was a warning. Like she was saying, “Talk about getting rid of me again, and this could be you.” We both steered clear of each other; seemed safer that way. The more seemingly secure we were, the more anxious I felt. I had been burning at such a high intensity for so long, I didn’t know any other way. I didn’t consider myself an adrenaline junkie; I didn’t want to bungee off anything. I didn’t know what my problem was. I kept waiting for something to happen. More times than not, Tracy would wake to find me peering out the window at the yard below and the woods beyond. Something was fucking out there; I knew in the depths of my ragged soul it was, and its black beady eyes were peering back at me.
    â€œMike?”
    My chest rose and fell at a rate that belied the stillness of the night.
    â€œMike, come back to bed,” Tracy entreated.
    â€œThere’s something out there.”
    â€œWhat? Where?” She got out of bed and joined me at the window. She was none too pleased, and also alarmed, when she realized I was talking about the abstract. “We’ve been through