Zomblog: The Final Entry Read Free Page B

company.
     
    Saturday, January 16
     
    The Warehouse sent a bus today. One of the scavenger teams came back early this morning to the mansion on foot. They had a small group of survivors along with them. Of the eighteen, two are ZIPs: Zombie Immune Persons. (I have no idea when we started attaching catchy acronyms to things again, nor do I care.) One of the ZIPs is a little boy no older than six. I tried to imagine what it must be like for a third of your life to be a citizen of this hellish apocalypse. He’s seen things in real life that parents of the Old World would’ve called a shrink about if he’d been caught watching on television.
    I was chosen to help examine all the females. (There are five.) It was not the most exciting day, but I did hear something interesting. There have been a flood of surviviors heading east. Word is that the government has secured Rhode Island; actually, Aquidneck, wherever that is. I have no idea if that is true. I quickly realized that I didn’t care. So this Aquidneck is cleared of zombies…has power…medical facilities. Big deal.Of course nobody who ever left for this place has come back to confirm the validity of the rumor. Anyways, who wants to live in Newport?
    True or not, I imagine that whatever supposed government is in place, it’s not for me. Also, it might as well be on the moon. Crossing the city of Portland is a daunting enough task. An entire continent? Not likely.
     
    Sunday, January 17
     
    Doctor Gene came to see me today and asked why I was so intent on leaving. He wanted to know what I hoped to find out there. The first part was easy to answer: stir-crazy. The second part was a little more difficult. There is something inside me that wants to get out there and just see things. It isn’t just Vegas…it is everything.
    The Grand Canyon.
    Yellowstone National Park.
    The World’s Biggest Ball of String.
    Still, I’ve always wanted to see Vegas. I used to watch shows about it. I loved the online poker. It intrigued me to no end. I can’t explain it in any way that sounds rational. After the zombie outbreak, it was easy to forget about that city. That was until the radio message. Who knows? If that message would’ve never come that night, I’d be on my way someplace else with no better explanation. However, for over a year that place has been in my head like a Siren’s song. I’ve been accused of being stubborn and bull-headed. Not once have I tried to deny it.
     
    Tuesday, January 19
     
    A small herd found our little retreat today. It happened early this morning several hours before sunrise. (Not that there was much of one with all the heavy, gray clouds that have been dumping snow on us all damn day.)
    Sam’s growls are what woke me even before Randy stuck his head inside my room and told me to suit up. In fact, by the time he did, I was pulling on my boots and inspecting my gloves for any rips.
    I climbed up on the platform built along the inside of the wall. It allows you to see over the wall and lets you hold a steady position while you jab an approaching zombie in the head. Easy-peazy-one-two-threezy! Only…to do that for over three hours really makes you think your arms might fall off. I don’t understand how the zombies aren’t simply frozen!
    Right now, with the threat dealt with, my shoulders feel like they have a billion knots in them. My arms feel like overcooked noodles, and I have cramps because my period started at some point during the battle. Yay!
     
    Wednesday, January 20
     
    It actually feels like the weather is trying to conspire against me. Not a day has been above the low teens for three days now. There is also an additional two feet of snow on the ground. For those of you who didn’t grow up in the Portland area…that is unheard of.
    Eric came in from the drag-and-burn detail a little while ago to express his doubts as to our projected date of departure. Am I the only person who, once she sets her sights on something, can’t let