Last post?

It's finally starting to sink in. I mean, the magnitude of it. My family. Gone. My command. Gone. Soldiers. Sailors. Airmen. Marines. The whole base was wiped out. Not only that, but most of the city is burning - a shambles. No police left. No people left. Just zombies.

I made it to a Wal-Mart. Managed to make it back out to my truck after getting myself together in the house. I thought about it; why did I kill that damn dog? I guess I just couldn't take the risk of him turning. After all, my son had obvious ... zombie bites on him. I guess I really couldn't face the thought of the dog turning, too.

So, the weed-eater with the saw-blade on it? Excellent weapon, right up until it burned out. That little 1.5 hp motor just wasn't made for that kind of torque, but it did pretty well. I managed to behead three zombies with it before it crapped out and I had to switch to the machete. I finally made it to the truck by hacking my way through four more. I guess the neighbors were home. Just ... changed.

I threw the truck into 4 right off. I knew there'd be trouble just getting off the base - they locked it down this morning. I crashed a fence and went through a stream-bed to get out, and turned West into town. Wal-Mart means supplies. And maybe other survivors.

I loved that dog.

The Wal-Mart was surrounded. Absolutely surrounded. How all these stinking corpsicles got here is beyond me, but I took it as a sign that there might be other survivors in there. Now I just had to get in.

I decided my best bet was to try to lure the zombies away from the side entrance - you know, the garden one. I could get them to follow me in my truck, maybe mow down a few of them and then pull alongside the fence with the wheel tied off and the truck still in gear. Climb on top and then jump to the fence. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Only problem was, I managed to spear my left arm on the top of the fence. Nearly peeled all the muscle of my forearm away. Good thing there was a pharmacy in here.

I made it over the fence, anyway, blood pouring down my arm and my truck careening off into the parking lot, squashing zombies all the way across it and into a berm. It died once it stopped there - it'll still run if I can make it back out to it. Something I might be able to use later.

I started banging on the door - it was closed, but I could see people moving inside.

I yelled that I was alive and they finally pulled the door back to let me in. There are six of us here now. Two store employees, a Soldier from the Army base down South, a soccer mom who is in a catatonic state, some skate punk kid and me. Soldier helped patch my arm up. Did a pretty good job.

Well, we have food, drugs and ammo. Power's still up, but it's been flickering. I don't know how much longer I can keep communicating. Maybe someone will find my blog and know what went on here, but I don't think there's much of anyone still alive out there.

Later ...

We have voted. We're arming up now, loading a trailer with food and ammo, first aid kits, tents, everything we need. We're going to try to fight our way out, jump in the truck, back up to the entrance and hook up. Then we'll see if we can't make it into the mountains. Soldier has a cabin up at Green Lake. We'll see if we can't set up house there. Fortify. Build zombie traps. Hunt for food. I doubt I'll get to leave any more blogs. If you read this, and are looking for us, we're at mile 56. Just head West into the mountains. Make sure you make noise when you come - talk, whistle, sing, play the radio. We'll aim for the head otherwise.

Damn I miss that dog.