Posted by Geo April – 21st – 2017
Good morning. It is rainy in the city this morning and I am working on editing, which seems fitting for a rainy day. If you have not yet checked out the Zombie Plagues go ahead and read this free upload and then follow the links at the end to get the first book FREE! And pass this on if you would. Thanks, have a great Friday and an awesome weekend, Geo…
The Zombie Plagues Book One
Created by Dell Sweet
PUBLISHED BY: Geo Dell and independAntwriters Publishing
The Zombie Plagues Book One
Additional Copyrights 2008, 2009, 2010, 2013, 2015, 2017 Wendell Sweet & his assignee Andrea Scroggs All rights reserved
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This material is copyright protected
This material has NOT been edited for content
We are six people who have managed to stay alive through whatever it is that has happened to our planet. My husband Bob and I were fortunate enough to be protected by our spirits and brought through all of this.
I am Janet Dove; my husband is full blooded Blackfoot and a very proud man. A very good man as well. And not just to me. He treats all people well.
My mother was Cherokee and my father was French. I don’t mean French transplanted to this country. My mother met him in France. We are looking forward to whatever the Great spirits purpose is in this.
We have many young people with us. Michael Collins. He’s mixed race, like many of us. He probably doesn’t realize it, but he is in fact our leader. He’s in his early twenties. I guess the mixed race stuff doesn’t matter anymore, but I lived with it for so long that it’s hard for me to let it go.
Bob has suffered worse with those prejudices. Many other people besides me. Maybe the world is at that place where all of that stuff can be let go now? I hope so.
Candace Loi is a beautiful young woman. Her father is African American, her mother Asian. She has her father’s dark skin blended with her mothers features. Striking. I enjoy her company. She reminds me of my daughter. I don’t know how she fared in all of this. I suppose we’re all wondering similar things.
Tom. Thomas Evans. And, Lydia, Marcia George fill out our party. We are planning to leave here in a few months and head south, or west. The direction isn’t decided, only the realization that we need to go. The thinking is that we should head south, somewhere warmer. After all, there is no electricity here, and we are living in a cave. It’s not a bad cave, and we’re lucky to have it. Almost the entire city has been destroyed. The buildings are unsafe to live in.
When we leave, we’ll leave all of that behind us. This is who we are. We will most likely continue to the south. We are currently looking for a Short Wave radio set to try to get in touch with others around the world. You, whoever you may be, may be able to reach us where ever we have gone to now.
Bob believes in the Nation. That the people will once again live on the earth the way they used to. Bob believes it, and so I believe it. I’ll continue to keep this book up while we’re here and include any useful information we can pass on to you before we go.
I guess I should start this the right way. I hadn’t thought about it when it was just me to think about. But it’s more than me or even those of us that are here now. It’s the ones who might come. Or will come after. So even if you figured out almost all of what I’m about to write, I’ll write it anyway.
I read back over what I wrote and it doesn’t even seem like me, like I wrote it, like those things happened to me
My name is Candace Loi. I was living here when all of this happened. I’m not from Watertown. I actually did live here for a while last year, but that’s a long story. The point is I’m not really from here like the others are.
My man is Mike Collins and we are with two other couples; Jan and Bob Dove, and Tom Evans And Lydia George. I came here with them; Mike was on his own then. I was too, even though I had people around me. I guess if you’ve read all of this diary you know what I’m talking about. I had Jan as my friend, this diary and my father’s gun. I Thank God for what I had, especially Jan.
Jan and Bob are older. They are really good people. Tom and Lydia are younger. Well, Lydia is. Lydia’s even younger than I am, but Tom is quite a lot older. I don’t think anyone cares about that anymore though. At least nobody here does.
We are going to leave here sometime in the next few months and try to make it down to the Gulf coast. We don’t know for sure how that will go. I’ll keep this updated though until then. We’re going to leave these behind us. Hopefully they will be useful to someone. But I think I’ll keep my little Notebook. It means something to me.
Things we know: You can get trucks and cars to start as long as they are older ones that don’t have electronic brain boxes, as Bob put it. That is how we intend to go before winter or just after winter really lets go. Otherwise, we’d really have to wait for summer to settle in before we could chance travel.
There are several sporting goods stores in the area. We’re all carrying guns now. It seems smart to do. Maybe I should say it would be stupid not to. We think it only makes good sense.
This cave we are in seems stable, but many of the other structures in the city aren’t safe to live in. We don’t know how deep these caves go.
We’re going to try to reach others with Ham Radios. We’re also trying to find a battery powered television set just to see if anything’s on the air. We’re hopeful. We’re also going to pick up some hand held F.M. Radios, walkie-talkies, Bob calls them. That way we can speak to each other when we’re separated.
The sun is rising in the north. Really the North West. The days were long, then short, now going back towards long again. We don’t know what that might mean, where it will end or even where we will be when it does end. And maybe end is the wrong word to use. We don’t know what began or ended; might begin or end.
I re-read that, I guess it seems melodramatic, at least to me, but it’s honest.
I will write more as we go along.
Early morning darkness held the road that fronted the cave. The moonlight, sparse, reflected off the rapids of the Black river.
A shadow moved by one of the pickup trucks. Another moved by the Suburban. The sound of sand gritting beneath the sole of a shoe came clearly in the shadowy darkness. The door of the pickup squealed loudly as it was carefully opened. The shadow paused, looking towards the Suburban. The shadow there appeared to be fighting with the door to no avail. The shadow next to the pickup gestured quickly with both hands, and the shadow next to the Suburban gave up on the door, crossed to the pickup and quickly climbed inside. Once they were both inside, silence returned to the small patch of asphalt that fronted the cave. A few seconds later the pickup roared to life. The headlights snapped on, the wheels turned hard left and the driver launched the truck down what was left of the shattered roadway.
Voices were raised in alarm from inside the cave, and within just a few moments everyone inside was outside. Lydia, gun in hand, unloaded a full clip at the fleeing pickup truck. Both Tom and Mike snapped off a single shot, more in startled response to Lydia’s’ shots than with any real hope of hitting the retreating pickup truck.
“Jesus,” Lydia said breathlessly. “They stole our truck!” She turned and looked at Mike with wide, frightened eyes. “They stole our Goddamn truck,” She repeated. “How could they steal our truck?”
Tom headed for the suburban and pulled the keys from his pocket, preparing to unlock the door.
“Tom,” Mike called. “Where are you going, Man?”
“That’s our Goddamn truck. I’m going to get it.” His eyes were wild, the truck keys in one hand, a pistol in the other, no shirt, sock-less shoes, laces trailing.
“It’s an old truck, Man,” Mike said.
“It’s my old truck,” Tom said defensively. “And if I catch that fucker…”
“Fuckers,” Lydia said.
“Huh?” Tom asked.
“Fuckers, as in I saw two heads. Two of them. Not one,” Lydia said. Her voice held a breathless, excited quality to it that Mike didn’t like. She was dressed in jeans and a thin T-shirt. She shivered slightly, whether from the cold or the excitement, Mike couldn’t tell.
“Either way. One, two, how would we catch them? And then what? Are we going to shoot somebody for stealing an old truck? Is that what things have come to?” Mike asked.
“Look, don’t get moral on me,” Tom said. He leveled his eyes at Mike. “I do things my way. You take from me, you pay for it.”
Mike just stared back at him.
“You’re soft,” Tom said. But his fists, still clenched, dropped from the truck door and he walked away from the Suburban and back into the cave.
Lydia threw Mike a nasty look, finally managed to fish a replacement clip from her overly tight front pocket. Ejected the empty one into her hand and slid the new one into the pistol with a solid click. “Soft,” She echoed as the clip clicked home. She turned and went back inside the cave. In the distance, the muffler of the truck began to fade. It was hard to tell which direction it had gone.
Bob stepped up beside Mike where he stood with Candace and Jan. “I’m not going to kill anybody over an old truck,” he said.
“Me either” the other three said in near unison.
“Guess we better start making sure everything’s locked up tight,” Mike said.
“We’re going to have to start keeping a watch,” Jan said.
“We will,” Candace agreed. “What if the next thing they want is a woman?”
“That’s not funny,” Mike said.
She leveled her dark eyes on his, silvery moonlight reflecting from them. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. Now that they know we’re around…” she shrugged. “Lydia may have overreacted, but maybe not. Who the hell would pull a stunt like that anyway? Everything’s just lying around. Want a truck? Go get one. No… It’s a mind set. Someone who takes like that doesn’t take because it’s easy; they take because they like it, because they can.” She lowered her voice, “Truck, woman… might all be the same to them.”
No one answered.
Tom and Lydia sat talking in low tones as the others walked back into the cave. They had rebuilt the fire, and the warmth and light spread out, glowing on the stone walls. “Tom,” Mike started.
“Listen,” Tom said. “I shouldn’t have said that… I didn’t mean to say that. And, no, it would be stupid to go chasing after a goddamn truck in the middle of the night. And, no, I don’t want to kill someone over stealing a piece of shit truck,” Tom said. “But that kind of shit can’t happen. I mean, what’s next?”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “Yeah. I guess what’s next is locked up trucks. No keys left in them. And…” He looked over at Candace. “I guess a guard at night. Candace said… She thinks someone who would come to take a truck might come to take a woman too.”
The silence held only for a second.
“Fuckin’ A,” Lydia spat.
She looks positively rabid, Candace thought. “What I mean,” Candace said, “A truck… Maybe one of us… Who steals a truck when everything’s just lying around free for anyone who wants to pick it up?”
Tom nodded his head.
“Well, as soon as it’s light I say we follow the tracks. If we’re careful, it should be no problem at all,” Mike said.
“Goddamn right,” Lydia said.
“Should be armed. I’m sure they will be,” Candace said.
“Not you. You’re not going are you?” Mike asked.
“I’m the best shot we have,” Candace said. “It’s that simple. If we don’t go after them,” she shrugged and then shook her head. “No,” she said. “The more I think about it, they’ll probably come back. And they’ll probably come back armed as well, hell, maybe they were this time.” She looked at Lydia.
“Lydia saw two in the truck, but how many more were there? Or back where ever they went to,” she finished seriously.
“So. The idea is to take it to them before they bring it to us?” Bob asked.
“Got a better idea?” Tom challenged.
“No… No… But I’m no killer. It’s still just a damn truck.”
“Yeah, tonight it was a truck, tomorrow it might be me… Or Candace… Or Jan,” Lydia said.
Bob stayed silent, thoughtful. He sighed. “What a damn mess,” he said at last.
“It’s that,” Tom agreed.
“I got to agree, Bob,” Mike said. “It’s not the same world. What if they do come back? Do we decide then to do something? It might be too late.”
“Honey. I think it’s best to go get them,” Janet said quietly, her eyes on Bob’s own. Those eyes looked frightened, Mike thought. He supposed a little of that fright was resting in everyone’s eyes right now.
“I don’t like to be bullied or pressured into anything,” Bob said.
“Hey,” Mike said. “It’s no pressure, Man. It’s real. It really just happened.”
Bob nodded his head yes, but a frown remained stamped onto his mouth. Deep lines scarred his forehead. His hands twisted restlessly in his lap. He suddenly brought his hands together firmly. “Okay,” he agreed. “Okay. I see the point. I’ve done a lot of hunting. I’m a good shot with a rifle. I’d like to go too.”
Get an extended preview in any e Book format right now: Click Here
Get the first book free, Smashwords: Click Here
Get the first book free, I Tunes: Click Here
Get the first book free, NOOK: Click Here