Zomblog: The Final Entry Read Free Page A

that time, we have to do it over again.
     
    Tuesday, January 12
     
    Back at the Mitchell’s place.
    I packaged up the stuff I found for Baby Snoe. Yes, I did consider making the trip to The Warehouse myself one last time, but decided against it in the end. I suck at goodbyes. It may be the cowardly thing, but I asked Jeff to deliver it for me.
    I thought about just sending it with a supply run, but the way people seem to totally weird out over anything to do wth the journal, I thought those photo albums might send them into a fervor. I looked things over one last time, added a copy of my journal and her dad’s, and called it good. This one is coming with me to Vegas. Personally, I doubt she will ever see any of this stuff. I don’t give humanity, no matter how organized they try to be, a chance in hell of surviving this ordeal.
    Oh! How could I forget? Eric gave me a lovely sketch done in pencil. It was of me. I have no idea how or when he had time to do it, but it was creepy good. I put that in the box, too. Now, if she makes it that long, Baby Snoe will have an idea what her mommy looked like. And having both of our journals, hopefully she will feel just a little bit better about how things worked out.
    Now it is time to give Sam a bath. I am pretty sure he rolled in dead people guts at some point. There is no way he will be allowed into the house smelling the way he does.
    I got my first mission out of the way! It might’ve been a bit of a cake walk, and I think it was planned that way on purpose because I was coming along. At least I did it. I’d like to make one more before I head out. I think I will go check the sign-up sheets after I bathe Smelly Dog.
     
    Wednesday, January 13
     
    A light snow is falling. Even wearing four layers of clothing, I’m still cold. Being out in this is gonna take some getting used to. I am reminded of this one time when my best friend Katy and I decided that, during the third season of Survivor , we would live off of rice and rough it with the cast. It was only thirty-nine days…we knew we could do it. By day four we were sitting shame-faced in Mickey Dees.
    I went outside today and cleared an area, made a small fire, and tried to get in sync with Mother Nature. I am now sitting inside in a rocking chair with a thick comforter over my legs and Sam curled at me feet. I’ve turned into an absolute sissy-girl.
     
    Friday, January 15
     
    I just had the strangest talk.
    Eric Grayfeather came into my room after breakfast. He stared at me with those big, dark eyes of his for a few moments (which began to feel like an eternity). Finally, he asked if it was true that I was leaving for Las Vegas soon. I told him it was.
    We spent an hour talking. He said that if I equip properly, Highway 26 through Mount Hood and all the way to Madras would be an ideal first leg. I told him I wasn’t interested in becoming a Meredith Popsicle, nor did I want to try and recreate some sort of Donner Party adventure considering Sam was currently my only guaranteed company.
    He explained that I could use the snow and weather to my advantage. Also, it would be less likely that I would encounter other living people that way. Since dealing with zombies has never been a problem for me and most of my problems have stemmed from encounters with the living…he had a point.
    I listened and found myself starting to agree. Cities are still war zones: Living versus Dead; Living versus Living… et cetera . Eric helped me make a pretty impressive list of essentials. The good thing is that almost everything that I need is available here or at one of the other compounds.
    As he was walking out my door, he stopped. Again I got that long, silent stare. Finally, he said, “I will go with you to Las Vegas.” Then, just like that, he left!
    That guy is so weird. Don’t get me wrong; it’ll be nice to make this journey with somebody alongside, but he is probably the last person I would’ve picked for