Free weekly Zombie Plagues upload Seven from Geo Dell

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


Janet

March 14th

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.

Candace

March 14th

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.

March 15th

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.”

Bob finished.

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.”


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Free weekly Zombie Plagues upload Six from Geo Dell and the Free eBook list

Posted by Geo Dell 04-07-2017

Good morning and I hope all is good in your world. The free books today, all weekend actually, are…

EARTH’S SURVIVORS APOCALYPSE:

Published: January 30, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » General, Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic

Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The dead lay in the streets while gangs fight for control of what is left. Small groups band together for safety and begin to leave the ravaged cities behind in search of a future that can once again hold promise…

Links: Amazon U.S. U.K. | Smashwords | Kobo | Nook | iTunes


The Zombie Plagues Book One

by Geo Dell Rated 5

 Series: The Zombie Plagues, Book 1. Price: $2.99 USD. Words: 73,100. Language: English. Published: September 14, 2013 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Fantasy » Epic

 

What if the world ended tomorrow? What would you do? Would you be able to survive? The Zombie Plagues books follow a small group of men and women as they struggle to survive on a vastly changed earth, where the dead sometimes do not remain dead. Follow along as they try to rebuild their own lives as they rebuild their world.

Get it Free: SmashwordsiTunesNOOKKOBO


Connected: Sanger Road

Sanger Road:
An explosive morning on a dead end road is about to change Carl Ever’s life forever.
Ami Anderson is a young woman living a dead end life, the same as Carl. They are thrown together and find themselves in a set of circumstances neither could ever have predicted. Murder, hired killers, cash and drugs are all in the mix. Soon Ami and Carl find themselves on the run for their lives…
Get it Free: SmashwordsiTunesNOOKKobo


Pass these links on as they are not repeated during the weekend, Geo…

 The Weekly Free Zombie Plagues upload…

This material is copyright protected

This material is NOT edited for content


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.


March 13th

Bob leaned around the hood and looked through the windshield of the old Suburban. He nodded. “Try it, Tom.”

The motor turned over a half dozen times then suddenly fired and rumbled to life. Tom gave it a little more gas, pulled out the old fashioned choke. The motor smoothed out and began to run a little better.

Bob backed away from the engine compartment, a large smile on his face. “Know what this means?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard above the noisy truck.

Tom grinned and nodded back. “As long as they’re not electronically controlled, they’ll run. We should find a few more.”

Bob nodded in agreement.

They had found the old Suburban in a lot out in back of one of the car dealerships on outer Washington Street. The lot itself was wrecked; the buildings not much better, but hundreds of new cars and trucks sat on the cracked pavement, or pointed their noses or tails at the sky where they were half buried. The Suburban had been set up with a plow, and they all agreed it was probably just used to plow the lot.

Before they had even gone looking for a vehicle, Tom and Bob had gone hunting for a small gasoline powered engine. Lawn mower, leaf blower, it didn’t matter, just something small without an electronic ignition or brain. They’d come up with a heavy duty chain saw. Several tugs and a little choke had gotten it running. That had convinced them that it would be worth finding an older, full size truck.

We could convert one of these newer trucks. It would take some work but if we can find the right parts we could do it,” Tom said.

Maybe,” Bob agreed. “Trouble is finding a block that’s still the same. Heads, intake, it’s a lot to hope for. It would be easier to just fix the old stuff up. New tires, battery, we could even do the axles if we absolutely had to.”

Tom nodded his head. “Hmm,” he grumbled. “Guess so.”

Bob turned away. It was obvious to him that Tom didn’t like being disagreed with or second guessed. Yes, parts were parts, and if they were just parts, no problem. There were even kits to convert non-electronic ignition motors over to electronic ignition, but not the other way around. There were motors built mostly for racing applications that were designed to use carburetors and simple distributors. There were things they could do, but it wasn’t simple black and white.

He had been seeing more and more of this close minded attitude from Tom since they had moved into the cave. Tom had lost his place as leader. It didn’t matter that he had been nearly the only one who had seen himself that way. He had seen the situation that way, and now the situation had changed. He didn’t see himself as leader any longer, and he didn’t like it. Oh well, Bob thought. He’d get over it, or he wouldn’t. There was nothing for it except to watch it happen, whatever way it happened.

Tom let the truck idle high for a few minutes then reset the choke dropping the idle down to normal.

We got wheels,” Lydia said happily. She, Mike, Candace and Jan had come walking back from further down the lot. Pulled by the sound of the truck starting from where they had been searching for other vehicles that would be good candidates for starting.

We found three others that seem as though they might work out,” Mike said. “One’s an old crew cab state truck the other two are old pickups. All three are four wheel drives.” He grinned at Bob.

Bob laughed. “Well, let’s go get them,” he said. He turned and started away.

Hey,” Tom said, leaning against the door of the truck, “Wouldn’t you rather drive?”

Bob laughed again. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Much rather.” Everybody piled into the Suburban. Tom pulled out of the back of the lot and headed back in the direction the others had come from.

Mike

March 13th

Man, it’s been a long day. We walked out Washington Street to the car dealerships. Everything’s torn up out there, but there are tons or cars and trucks out there. We found three trucks that we got running, and we drove them back. So we have a pickup truck, a suburban and a big four door state truck, one of those you always used to see along the highway when they were doing road repair. There were a few others we found that also ran, but they were in such bad shape that we left them.

Tom wanted to build one. I mean take one of the new trucks and put old parts on it. I got the idea from Bob that it probably wouldn’t work out the way Tom thought that it would. The right parts would be hard to find. I could see the idea, the appeal of a newer vehicle so we wouldn’t have to be concerned about break downs. But I could see Bob’s point of view too. I think it pissed Tom off though. But it seems that almost everything pisses Tom off.

I didn’t write this in here yet, but Candace and I are together. It just happened that fast. I was surprised in a way, but in another way I wasn’t all that surprised. Who knows how long this world will last, what it was that really happened? Maybe there is no time for slow anymore.

Candace said that, and once I thought about it, I agreed. Things are so different. And she’s right for me. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this fast in the old world. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all. But everything’s changed. It’s all different, and this seems right. It seems like the way it should have happened with her and me, the right way for it all to work.

It also seemed to work out for the others as well. By that I mean Tom ended up with Lydia. She’s a lot younger than he is, but like I said, it’s a different world now. They seem to be happy together. I thought I felt some animosity from both of them at first. But either I imagined it, or they’ve moved past it, gotten over it, something like that.

We haven’t discussed leaving again. It’ll come up. Candace and I want to go. I think Bob and Jan want to go too. Tom and Lydia seem to be against it. Lydia keeps talking about how none of us know what it might be like anywhere else, like she wants to throw that out before we even discuss leaving at all. Here we have food, shelter, what’s so bad? I guess we have been talking about it without really talking about it at all.

Tom backs up everything she says with a nod of his head. He pointed out we’re in an area of mainly limestone, that’s what made this cave, and we may not find that anywhere else. At least not easily. Maybe they’re right. Hell, they make sense, but it’s the attitude. The rest of us bend. They refuse to.

We decided to go out to Arsenal Street tomorrow to the sporting goods store, and also look at some super markets out there, something else I didn’t check out while I was out there.

Lastly, I’m glad Candace and I have each other. It makes all of this easier to deal with.

She asked me why I’m writing this journal. I felt kind of stupid. I told her why I started it though, and that I’m continuing it for someone in the future. Maybe a child? Someone to come later on?

I expected her to laugh that off, or look at me like I was crazy, but she only nodded as if that made perfectly good sense. She told me she has a journal too. A diary, she said. Of course Lydia jumped on that as well. At first arguing against it, then saying she thought it might be okay. Tom said he wouldn’t do it. He said he’s not leaving to go anywhere and if someone shows up here, he’ll be here, not some journal. Okay.

It’s stuff like that that makes me wonder. And, anyway, I only mentioned it; it wasn’t like I wanted anyone else to do it or was trying to encourage someone else to do it. It’s that kind of jump on it attitude I don’t like, like they think I’m looking to screw them over somehow.

But it’s all good. I’m alive. I looked back at some of what I wrote in here. I had no one just a short time ago. I didn’t even know whether there was anyone else. Now I have Candace. We have some plans, things we’ve begun to talk about, agree about. A little ego trouble with Tom is really just bullshit in the scheme of things. I have to try harder to look past that. Maybe I’m too damn sensitive. And anyway things are good. This could be a lot worse.

A thing that bugs me and I can not figure out, where are all the bodies? I mean there don’t seem to be enough bodies to match all of those that were killed. It bothers me. Maybe they weren’t killed? But that makes no sense. Where would they be? I don’t have an answer. I only know it bugs me.

Lydia

March 13th

Hi! My name is Lydia. I’ve never written a journal or kept a diary before. We’re all here in this cave. A cave, yes. We’re living in a cave. I can’t believe it! There are no showers, no toilets, no kitchen. Ha! We’re eating out of cans. It’s about as hard as it could be. I don’t know how cave men did it. Or cave women.

We’re all writing these journals to leave them behind in case someone comes after we, or some of us, leave. I might not ‘cause I’m sort of with Tom right now, and he doesn’t want to go. There are six of us; Mike, Tom, Bob, Janet, me and a girl named Candace. We’re all stuck here until spring, I guess.

I guess that you know all about the world ending or whatever it did. We don’t know. I don’t know. Not really anyway, but hopefully we’ll get everything fixed up pretty soon. I mean, a lot of stuff is F’d up, you know? But, like, it could get fixed up eventually.

I had a boyfriend in the old world. His name was Paul, but I don’t know where he went. His apartment was gone. The whole street he lived on was gone. So I don’t know. It made me feel really bad. Hopefully this will be over really soon.

We have, like, some old trucks now to drive around. We used to have to walk everywhere. That sucked. The trucks are really old, like shit boxes as Paul would’ve said, but at least we’re not walking, right? Paul had an old shit box truck too. These trucks are even older. If we break down we can’t call Triple A. Ha, Ha!

There are six of us and Tom thinks more will come to us, probably know we’re here and are just waiting. I guess that’s cool.

I don’t really know what else to write in here. I’ll write other stuff down too though. Oh, I’m almost nineteen…

Candace

March 13th

I did it. I don’t know how I worked it out or where I found the courage to do it, but Mike and I are together. It’s like I wasn’t breathing, like I was waiting to breath. Something like that. All I know with absolute certainty is that tomorrow looks better. Isn’t that all that’s important?

March

14th

Everyone was up early and ready to go before the sun was barely above the horizon.

Yesterday,” Tom said to no one in particular. “Thirty two hours long.” Silence greeted his remark. Candace checked her own watch.

So, like, that means things are slowing down?” Lydia asked.

You think?” Tom asked unkindly.

Well, something like that,” Lydia shot back defensively.

Why would it go backwards,” Bob asked?

Yeah. Wasn’t it supposed to stop, reverse and then start up again?” Lydia asked.

Maybe,” Mike agreed. “But that was all based on theory. No facts involved at all. I think they had some evidence that the poles had reversed at a few points in history before. And some legends that spoke about the Earth standing still for a day, something like that. But even so, that’s all theory, not fact.”

Yeah,” Tom chimed in. “It’s like an asshole. Everyone’s got one.”

Don’t you mean opinion?” Lydia asked sweetly.

Whatever. We ready to go, or what?” Tom asked. Everyone followed outside in the uncomfortable silence that fell.

~

What’s up with those two,” Candace whispered as she followed Mike outside.

Who knows,” Mike whispered back. Bob met his eyes and raised his eyebrows. Mike shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as if to say I don’t know.

We may as well take all three trucks,” Bob suggested. “That way if we find stuff we want it’ll save us driving back to get them.”

Easier if we get stuck also,” Candace suggested.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me,” he said. He headed for the Suburban with Lydia right behind him. Jan and Candace headed for the pickup truck. Bob broke into a laugh and grinned at Mike. “Guess that leaves me and you in the old dinosaur. Want to drive?”

After you,” Mike said laughing. Bob started the truck and pulled out last in line and followed the other two trucks as they picked their way along the edge of the ruined road.

~

It was me that asked Jan to go with Candace,” Bob said as they followed slowly along behind the other trucks.

Mike nodded. His eyes following the sides of the road as Bob drove along. “I thought it was something like that,” he said. “What’s on your mind, Bob?”

Well… A lot,” Bob said after a second or two. He hesitated a little longer. “I guess mainly to say Jan and I would like to go with you when you leave, and Candace, I assume.”

Yeah,” Mike agreed. “I know that probably seemed kind of quick.”

It’s a…”

Quick world,” Mike finished. “Candace said the same thing. I don’t know how much better off we’ll be, but we’d be glad to have you two with us if you want to come.”

We would. Jan and I talked it over. We talked all night long last night. I got nothing personal against Tom; he did alright by us, but he’s a little too…”

Demanding? Aggressive?” Mike supplied.

Bob looked thoughtful. “I don’t know… Something like that. I just don’t see him being able to see this through. I feel like if we came back here in ten years we’d find him still holed up in that cave. He’s… I don’t know… too immature to talk to about it. He has only one way of looking at things. That can’t work.”

You’re probably right. He’d still be here with Lydia, probably with a couple of babies running around. But, maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe that’s a good thing.” He shrugged. “The immaturity… I don’t know… It’s there though. Maybe he’ll move out of that. Maybe it’s just the situation.”

Maybe,” Bob agreed. “But that’s exactly the time he should be mature, isn’t it?”

Mike nodded. Bob continued.

So, maybe it’s a good thing, maybe it’s not. But not for me. I don’t want to stay here. Nor Jan either. I wouldn’t want to quit this unless I knew this was all there was. I mean, this couldn’t be worldwide, could it?”

I don’t know,” Mike said softly. “But I agree. I know what you mean. Candace and I talked about it last night too and came to the same opinion. It could be better elsewhere, and whatever is right for Tom or Lydia isn’t necessarily right for us. I was for going from the start. I have to know if this is really the end. If there’s anything else. If it is, I’ll deal with it, find a place to settle down. Thank God I have Candace, you and Jan. Maybe we’ll meet others on the way to… well, wherever.”

I think so,” Bob said. “There are people, other people around. We just got to find them. Or them us.”

Yeah, we got to remember rifles or pistols. I hate to say it, Bob, but we may need them.”

Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah.”

They continued on in silence as the small caravan made its way past a collapsed building partially blocking what was left of the road.

I think… It’s not my business,” Bob said, “But I think you made an enemy of Lydia. She was thinking you would be with her.”

Yeah, I could see that, Bob. I don’t think Tom was any too pleased either.”

Bob nodded. “Nope, none too. Him I wouldn’t worry about though. Her, she’s pretty spiteful. I’ve only known her for a week, but it’s enough. That child did pretty much what she wanted to, I’ll bet. Used to having her own way, getting what she wants when she wants it.”

Yeah, I can see that. But last night we talked about the journals; I’m keeping one. Candace is too. Lydia said she would. Something to leave when we leave.”

It’s not a bad idea,” Bob agreed. “I’m not much for writing myself, but Jan might like it.”

Mike nodded. “Well, Lydia liked the idea. She didn’t say she’d go, but she might. So, hate me or not, she might be with us.”

Oh,” Bob said. “I see that. Maybe she’ll be okay. She’s a kid; maybe she’ll change.”

Guess we’ll have to see,” Mike agreed. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Bob worked the truck up and over a huge slab of up-tilted asphalt and followed along behind the other two trucks as they made their way down Arsenal Street.

What did you think of the idea that Tom had of fixing up one of the new trucks?” Mike ventured after a few minutes.

Won’t work. Or at least it won’t work without a lot of trouble. The new engines are computer dependent. We could probably find ourselves another motor, maybe even a new crate motor at a parts store somewhere around here,” Bob said.

What’s a crate motor?” Mike asked.

It just means a new motor, all crated up when it was sent from the factory. They sell them. Race cars, old rebuilds, like that. But, even if we couldn’t find a crate motor, we could find enough parts to rebuild anything we would need to rebuild on nearly any vehicle. So really, when we’re done, we’d have what amounted to a new vehicle. Tom wants to oversimplify that. He thinks we can just find the parts and swap them out on the motor that’s in the truck. Maybe we can. I’m not that good though, and I don’t think he is. I think we should stick to what we can do for sure, utilize what we have – the new parts.”

That what you think we should do? Build a vehicle?”

Yeah. Maybe two. Four wheel drive, of course. Go right through them top to bottom, everything new. It would take a few weeks, but we’ve got that and more. Meantime, you could work on your Ham radio idea, “Bob finished.

Can you get electric? Those big Ham radio outfits need regular power.”

Yeah, that’s not a problem. We’ll just find a generator. That will give us all the power we need. We could even hook up a power inverter to give us one twenty in the vehicle,” Bob added.

Mike nodded. “So we’re going to jump right into this thing? Get ready to go?”

Bob nodded. “I’m with you. I’m not spending next winter in a cave unless I have to. There’s a place in Tennessee, maybe Kentucky.” He closed his eyes for a split second as if seeing something only he could see. He shook his head, frowned and then continued. “If not, I’m thinking the coast. Southern or western, either will do, whichever one looks to be the better bet. And who knows how hard it’ll be to get there, so the sooner we’re ready to go, the better.”

I agree,” Mike said. “I’ll talk to Candace.”

And I’ll talk to Jan. But we already talked.”

So did we,” Mike agreed. They both laughed.

Bob angled the big truck around a final piece of asphalt and into a cracked and buckled parking lot. The two other vehicles sat silent, waiting for them.

As they left the truck, Mike noticed that the store hadn’t seemed to incur any more damage since the last time that he had been there. The roof was bowed inward; it had been before, but there were plenty of upright pillars that supported the roof and they all appeared intact. At least the ones he could easily see. The supports were spaced about every sixteen or so feet.

Safe?” Tom asked.

Looks the same as it did the last time,” Mike allowed. Candace and Bob looked at him, and he shrugged. “I’d say so. It looks the same as it did the last time I was here. It doesn’t even look as though anyone has been here.”

The scattered, powdered snow seemed undisturbed around the shattered doorway that lead into the building. Mike snapped his flashlight on and led the way inside.

The inside of the store told a different story. Someone had been there during the time Mike had last been there. Several of the glass display cases that held the weapons had been damaged. They were locked, who ever had made the attempt had made it halfheartedly. The glass was safety glass of some sort. It had cracked and spider webbed, but it had not broken and caved in.

Guess someone tried to get in,” Bob offered.

Tom held up a discarded crow bar. Even in the weak light they could see the streaks of scarlet on one end. Tom let it fall to the floor. The clatter was loud enough to make Lydia draw in a quick breath in the broken silence that followed.

Jesus, Tom,” She sputtered. Tom only grinned.

Why does someone go through all of that when they could’ve taken a simple screw driver and just popped the locks?” Candace asked.

Well,” Tom started.

Candace had walked behind the counter, taken a screw driver from her pocket and began to jimmy the lock mechanism. It was a cheap sliding set and easily bent to one side far enough to slide the glass door open. Candace smiled.

Learn that up in the big city, Miss?” Mike asked with a smile.

Candace smiled back, reached inside the case, careful of the glass that had sprayed in small slivers from the spider webs in the top, and withdrew pistol after pistol, setting them on a wooden topped case next to the cash register.

Forty five caliber, Nine millimeter, a cheap one though. Three eighty, kind of nice, though small. Here’s a much nicer Nine Millimeter.” She set several more guns on the wooden top, looked up with a crooked grin and asked, “Well, gentlemen, lady, what’ll it be?”

You really know about this kind of shit,” Lydia asked in an awed voice.

Obviously well enough to know what’s what,” Tom said.

That’s right. Obviously well enough,” Candace agreed. She gave no further explanation.

What do you think, Candace?” Jan asked.

Yeah, what would be the best?” Mike asked.

Candace shrugged. “It depends on what you like. I like a three eighty myself. It’s small, not as heavy as a Nine millimeter.” She pulled her own Nine Millimeter. “This was my Dad’s. A good gun, but I liked the Three Eighty I had. A Three Eighty won’t really knock somebody down, not like you see in the movies. But a nine millimeter won’t always do that either. It’ll just make a bigger hole. If you want to knock somebody down, you need this.” She held up the bigger forty five caliber pistol. She held the mostly black pistol easily in one hand. “This will knock somebody down and kill them. And, on the off chance that your aim was bad and you didn’t immediately kill them, believe me, they are not going to feel like getting back up.” She grinned. “It’s still not like the movies. You know, where you see them flying backwards through the air. But, it will knock them down and keep them there.”

Jesus, Candy, I’m like in awe,” Lydia said.

Candace,” Candace said, “and thank you.”

So how do you know all that? Like for real, how do you know all that shit?”

My dad was a cop, not in Syracuse, before we moved there. He had a thing for guns. I just caught it. When he knew I was going to be like him when it came to guns, he sent me for training, safety stuff mostly, but I liked it so much I started buying my own weapons. I took the test. Eventually I would’ve had my foot in the door in Syracuse. That’s a good department. I would’ve been in already if not for the economy.”

The thing is, I love to shoot. I’m good too,” she sighed.

So… what’ll it be?” She let the smile return to her face, reached over and began to jimmy another of the locks on the sliding glass doors.

They spent the good part of two hours in the store. Camping gear, rifles, pistols and ammunition, Mike began to feel like they were equipping their own private army before they were done. Even so, by the time they left, everyone was carrying at least one pistol, and several rifles and boxes of ammunition had found their way into the back of the pickup truck. Candace, Mike noticed, had added a matte black forty five caliber pistol to the Nine Millimeter. She wore them in webbed holsters on a wide leather belt.

I thought you preferred a Three Eighty,” Mike said half jokingly as he replaced the Nine Millimeter he had decided on into the side holster he had chosen.

I do,” she said, “For shooting. But like I said, a Three Eighty can’t knock somebody down.” Her eyes met his.

Yeah… There is that,” Mike agreed quietly.

They spent a short amount of time looking through a small convenience store in the same parking lot. There was very little left. Most likely cleaned out, Bob voiced, by the same folks who had tried to take the guns. This was evidenced by smears of maroon on the counter tops. Even so, they managed to find boxes of stuff in the storage area. They finished filling the backs of the trucks with basic First Aid stuff and several boxes full of candy bars and junk food too.

The sun had been standing overhead for what seemed like hours. Bob spoke.

Hotter,” He said. “You can feel the heat. And,” He motioned with his hands, “the snow is melting faster as well.”

Got a theory on that?” Mike asked.

Bob shook his head.

Maybe the whole process takes time,” Candace said.

Maybe,” Tom agreed. “Maybe it’s not so easy to start something spinning in the other direction. And we don’t know if it really stopped or not. The sun’s coming up in the north, or it was, but that seems to be changing too. I don’t think it stopped all the way. I think it’s just got a different spin now, and maybe a different path.”

Bob nodded, as did Mike. “I guess we’ll leave it for the scientists… long as we don’t fall off the Earth.” He chuckled a little.

Call it a day?” Mike asked.

Yeah,” Tom agreed. “We still have to unload all of this.”

There were a few halfhearted complaints, but everyone piled into the trucks, and they made their way slowly back towards the heart of the city and the cave that lay behind the Public Square.


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The Zombie Plagues Weekly Upload five from Geo Dell

The Zombie Plagues Weekly Upload five from Geo Dell: Posted by Geo Dell 03-31-17

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 NOT edited for content


To Live Again

March 12th

Mike closed his notebook and stuffed it down into his pack. Looking around the cave, he was surprised how different a few more warm bodies could make it. It didn’t seem as cold, so oppressively quiet, so echo filled with any kind of sharp noise, so… so different. But different in a good way.

Candace had been watching from across the cave where she had made a little area for herself. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt while Mike was writing, but now that he seemed finished, she walked over to him.

This was really nice of you,” she said as she walked up. “We were staying in that old school building. None too stable. Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

Funny,” Mike replied, “I was thinking the same thing. For me it was just having others around. People.”

Candace smiled. She’s beautiful, Mike thought. He wasn’t normally a fan of tattoos, but she had some sort of tribal stuff that snaked up under her shirt sleeve. Just a hint of ink where her shirt didn’t quite meet the top of her Levi’s made him wonder just exactly where the ink ended. She caught his eyes and smiled again.

Mind?” She asked, gesturing at the ground beside him.

No, sit down,” Mike smiled. “I have no manners at all. How long does it take to devolve? I guess a little over a week.” He smiled again.

She laughed as she sat down. The silence stretched out for a few seconds, each of them looking around the cave as the others talked or settled in for the night. They both spoke at once.

Sorry,” Candace said and laughed.

No, really. It’s that devolved thing again. Go ahead.”

She fixed her eyes on him. “I was just wondering what you were planning on doing. I mean, have you thought about leaving? I know you spoke a bit about it yesterday when you were talking to Tom. But I could see you weren’t quite ready to fall in with the Tomites yet.” She lowered her voice for the last.

Mike looked at her levelly. “Yeah… I guess it does show. I don’t dislike him. I don’t even disagree with what he said. I just… I just don’t know. We don’t click, know what I mean?”

Yeah, I do.” Candace answered. “It’s the same with me. I can think. I don’t need someone to do it for me.”

Exactly,” Mike agreed. “But it’s a little more too, like Alpha male shit. This is my tribe. Me chief.” Mike finished in a near whisper.

Candace giggled but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth while nodding her head in agreement.

Mike continued. “I’m not really an Alpha male type of guy,

but I’m not a dumb sheep either.”

Me either,” Candace agreed, her giggles under control. She fixed him with her serious eyes once more. “So what will you do?”

Probably like I said, like everyone else said, leave. But I don’t see why the south or the west wouldn’t be a good direction to go in. We’ll all see, I guess, as spring comes on, or as…”

What?” Candace asked.

Well, as this goes on. It might not be over yet. There might be more changes ahead. The days have slowed down, almost seemed to stop for a while last week when the sun just hung in the sky. Maybe what was supposed to happen happened? Now the sun’s rising in the wrong place in the sky. Did the Earth’s spin reverse, that fast? Weren’t some people claiming we’d fall off the Earth? Something like that?” He took a deep breath.

I guess I’m just waiting to see how this goes. What happens next? But in a few months, not far into spring, I’ll probably leave. Whatever has happened, is happening, should be over by then,” He smiled. “I guess that was a long drawn out answer.”

No. Not really,” Candace answered. “I’m in the same place. I’m not sure what happened either, or if it’s all over. But, I don’t think I want to live in a cave forever either.” She looked around, “But who knows; maybe it’s come back to that?”

Mike shrugged his shoulders.

Anyway,” she continued. “I… I just wanted you to know I’m seeing it the same way as you. I mean… I mean I want to be on your side of it.” She locked her eyes on his and gave a firm nod, then flipped her short, black hair out of her eyes. She firmed her mouth, set her jaw and spoke once more. “I’d like to go get my things, Move over here with you.” Her dark eyes settled on his own. “Be with you… I mean be together.”

Quick,” Mike said.

She nodded and smiled, “Maybe it’s a quick world now. I’m taking you at face value, I guess. You don’t have a little harem locked away farther back in these caves, do you?” She smiled.

Mike laughed. “Not hardly.”

Well then,” she asked quietly, her eyes serious.

Mike nodded, which caused a huge smile to spread across her face. His own smile answered it. But, he thought, did she really mean…? He didn’t complete the thought as she stood and walked across the cave to where she had put her things and spent her first night. She turned and looked back at him. Mike stood and walked over to help her move her things over to his side of the cave.

Several pairs of eyes watched the move.

~

Guess that settles that,” Robert Dove said to his wife Jan.

His wife nodded, a slight smile on her face. For the last few days Tom had been pushing Candace. Jan had disapproved. Let the girl make up her own mind, she had thought.

Maybe it’s for the best,” she said now. “That young man is much more likable, Bobby.”

Bob nodded in agreement. The fly in the ointment might be Lydia who had been making eyes at Tom since they’d first met, but who, for the last few days, had only had eyes for Mike. Bob looked over just as a look passed between Tom and Lydia. Oh, he thought.

Jan shook her head. She had noticed the look pass between them too. “Maybe if those two get together it will level everything out,” she said softly. Tom had made it clear he was interested in Candace, not Lydia, but the girl had made her choice. Tom would have to accept it. Jan felt Candace had made the better choice of the two. She turned her attention back to the conversation she had been having with Bob.

Tom watched as Candace moved her sleeping bags and back pack over to Mike’s side of the cave. He didn’t see what she saw in Mike, but it was her choice, and she wouldn’t get a second chance with him. He frowned at his own thoughts. Don’t be an ass, he told himself. It’s not that serious. He looked over and caught Lydia’s eyes; the question was right there. He nodded, and she sprang to her feet like a rabbit. A mean look on her young, pouty face as she looked towards Candace. The look went unanswered by Candace. She turned her back to the girl as she walked back over to Mike’s side of the cave.

~

Lydia quickly gathered her things and moved them over to Tom’s area. Stupid bitch, she told herself. She can have the cave man dude. She’d only wanted Tom all along, even the last few days. Chasing after Mike the last few days had only been an attempt on her part to make Tom jealous. Tom would take her out of here. She hated this place and everything to do with it, always had. Tom was tough, tougher than the other guy. She didn’t think of it in terms of Alpha Male and territory, but it came down to the same thing. Tom was the top dog. Her top dog.

The fire burned lower as everyone settled in for the night. Some happy, some worried, some undecided, but everyone along for the ride.


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The Zombie Plagues Weekly Upload four from Geo Dell

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 protected by foreign and domestic copyright laws

This material is NOT edited for content


Candace March 10th

It’s late at night. What a difference a day makes. Mike is his name.

We went back today to see if he had been back to the store. I went there first. I hoped to catch him there early, but he wasn’t there. Tom dragged his feet. Like he didn’t want to go at all. He didn’t say that but, it seemed that way to me. Maybe things were just getting to me. Tom’s been putting more and more pressure on me to be with him. Lydia’s turning up the I hate you attitude. Maybe it’s just me, or just was me. Either way, by the time we did get there this morning, the snow was melting, and there was no real way to tell if he had been there at all. I thought about what I had decided yesterday, just going without Tom, but I waited.

We went back to the river and began looking along the banks on that side. I couldn’t figure where he had gone.

I backtracked to the store, thinking I must have missed him, missed something anyway. On the way back, I saw him crossing the end of Public Square. I practically screamed out loud, but he didn’t hear me. By the time we got there, he was gone.

The day just started to slide away. I began to think I wouldn’t find him at all. It depressed me. It was Bob who smelled smoke. All we had to do was follow the smoke, and we found him. Bob found him. How do you follow smoke? Have you ever tried? I mean, if I could see it in the air, sure. But I couldn’t. Bob knew how to follow it anyway.

I guess there’s a lot more that I could say about today but I’m not going to say it now. I’ll say this though, I want him. I want him, and Tom knows it. It’s like Tom knew it would turn out this way. Jan knew how I felt, knew how it would be. She told me that today. She said she could see it in me last night. Like this is the way it’s supposed to be.

Lydia knows as well. She’s happy about it. I saw her face when she figured it out. She looked from me to Mike and back. Then she did it again, this puzzled look on her face, and then she smiled, looked at me and nodded. I think she’s just biding her time now. I guess I am too.

Michael Collins. Mike. I think I already wrote his name. I don’t know what happens next. How to make it happen. I’m no good at that sort of thing. I’ve never done it. And my little notebook here, my only friend through all of this, along with Jan, can’t help me with that. I can write it here, look at it, but that doesn’t realize it.

I still have my father’s gun. That has also been my friend the last few days. But it can’t help me either, unless I shoot Tom. I guess that’s not funny. Tom never liked my gun. It bothered him. Not ladylike? Something like that I think. Mike wasn’t shocked at all except to say he should have already gotten one and didn’t. It didn’t intimidate him in other words.

Tomorrow is March eleventh. I would have started a new life tomorrow. Maybe one I wasn’t meant to start. I feel like… I don’t know. To be honest, I feel like I’m just a dumb girl pretending to be a woman, a grown up. Does nineteen know everything? No. I don’t want to pretend at this. I want to get things right. I don’t know what’s next. But, does anybody?

Mike March 12th

Things have been really crazy the last few days. I’m not alone anymore. It’s funny because that’s the last thing I wrote, and two days later it’s like an answer to prayer. It happened later on the evening of the tenth. Oh, and it was the tenth. Tom has an old fashioned wind up watch. So does Candace. And, they’ve both kept track. Kept them wound up too. But, in another way it isn’t the twelfth today at all because the days and nights, or the rotation of the Earth that makes the days and nights, isn’t the same at all. It’s much slower. It’s taking about twenty-eight hours to cycle through. But last week, it was up to almost thirty six hours. And none of us knows why, except it slowed up and it’s now starting to get back to a normal length of time to cycle through a night and day. So, it’s not really the twelfth, and they’ve just been keeping track of the days as they pass, same as I’ve been; except for the day I thought I’d lost.

Anyway, as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the start; I was organizing stuff. There is a warehouse down closer to the river full of wooden pallets. I went down there a few days ago, box upon box. I have no idea what’s in them. I figured sometime I’d just open a few up and see. Maybe it would be something useful, maybe not. What’s useful now is radically different from what used to be useful.

Anyway I noticed all the pallets. Pallets everywhere. Some full, some piled high with stuff, but a lot of empty ones; so I went back down with the sled and made a few trips back and forth to the cave so I could stack the canned stuff on them, so they’re not sitting on the floor. I was putting them in the back of the cave. I was so wrapped up in stacking the canned goods that I never even heard them until Candace cleared her throat, I guess to get my attention.

It scared me bad. I thought about the gun I had never bothered to go and get, and a lot of other bad stuff. It went through my mind so fast. The first thing in my head was, the wolves got me! They sneaked up on me! Stupid, I know. I knew it was a person, but my head still insisted wolf. It didn’t last though, and my reaction scared them too. Lydia said I had a can of peas in my hand, and she was sure I was going to bean Candace in the head with them. For some reason she found it funny that I would bean someone in the head with a can of peas, and she giggled. I just felt embarrassed, and glad I didn’t throw the can. I set it down on the stack and took a few deep breaths instead. We all ended up laughing our asses off. Nervous energy. Release, I guess, or something like that. And then, we all began to talk at once.

They had known about me for two days. They had seen that someone was going in and out of the supermarket. They were going out to one on the north side, the other side of the river from where I was. For some reason I hadn’t thought to cross the river. They had already been on the other side to begin with, and even though the main bridges seemed too damaged to be trusted, the railroad trestle seemed solid and unharmed to them, so they crossed over on that to get to my side. I was impressed; that is an open trestle, a long way down to the water.

Because the snow on the asphalt was melting, they couldn’t figure out where I was going when I left the market. They were actually going back across the river when Candace happened to look over her shoulder toward the opposite bank and happened to catch me going into the cave. She had thought to yell, but over the sound of the rapids, she couldn’t get anyone around her to hear her, let alone me.

Once they were across, she talked to Tom; Tom pretty much was their leader (I don’t know if I like that. Do we need leaders?), and they decided to come back the next day, which was two days ago, and see if they could find me. They didn’t know about the cave. Candace had thought I was just climbing the rock above the river. They searched along the back of the Public Square, or what’s left of it, and down towards Coffeen Street. If they had come back down one more road towards the river, they would’ve found the cave then. Maybe they hadn’t realized there was a road there at all; so they just followed the path of the river, thinking I was living in one of the fallen down buildings along the banks.

They had seen me from quite a way off, crossing the square as they were heading back. It looked to them like I was heading for the north side, maybe crossing one of the bridges, but by the time they got there, I was gone. They even began to wonder if I had seen them and hidden on purpose, maybe out of fear. They had searched for a while and then, just when they had been about to quit for the day, Bob realized that he could smell smoke. As soon as he said it, everyone else realized they had smelled it all along as well. After that, it didn’t take long to find the cave. They just followed the smell of smoke down to the lower road and found the cave.

So that was that, and now we are six. Tom, Thomas Evans, he was their leader as I said. He’s an older guy, in his late thirties. Used to be a truck driver.

Candace Loi (Don’t call her Candy. I don’t know why.). She’s nineteen and was visiting her grandparents. She was from Syracuse. I thought she was with Tom. I think Tom thought so as well.

Bob and Jan Dove. Bob is a little older than Jan, in his fifties, and he said he is a mechanic. Jan does, did, data processing.

And Lydia. Her real name is Marcia George. Lydia is her middle name. She said she always liked Lydia better. She was still in school, local college. I guess she’s the same age as Candace, nineteen.

And last but not least, me.

We spent all of yesterday getting their stuff from across the river and bringing it over to the cave. I thought that was weird. Why go get stuff anyway? You can have anything you want. It’s all free. But in another way I guess I understand. We’ve lost everything. We want to hang on to what little we still do have. We’re all going to stay here. And we talked about what’s next, and what we know about what happened.

I said I had been kind of planning to leave once spring came. Head south or west, somewhere where I wouldn’t have to worry about winter. Tom said it may be that, where it would normally have been warmer, it won’t be anymore. He said it depends on what happened. None of us really know. He thinks it might be smarter to stay here. We could stock up this cave. We could even hunt. He said he’s sure there are deer around. Bob agreed with him, at least on there being deer around.

I told them about the footprints by my house. They said they had seen footprints as well. They had gone out Coffeen Street and seen the tracks of three or four people going in and out of a small store there. They had called out, but no one had answered. They had had second thoughts about calling out too. They weren’t armed. What if someone shot at them?

That brought my original thoughts to mind about a weapon. I mentioned the sporting goods store, and we all agreed to make a trip out there soon.

We talked about cars and trucks and agreed it would be good to get an SUV or truck of some kind if we could find one that will run, as they might be the only vehicles that could drive around as bad as things are torn up. They have also tried starting a few vehicles with no success. I mentioned my electronic brain idea, and Tom said he had thought of the same thing. Turns out he’s also a mechanic. I guess I can see why they chose him to lead. I feel kind of useless around the guy though. We agreed to try finding an older vehicle. Tom thinks our chances of getting one running are good. We’ll see what we can find.

The first night together was good. The best I’ve slept since this thing started. Just not being alone, you know?

I guess I’ll end on that note…


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Weekly Zombie Plagues Post 3

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.

……………………………………………………….

Candace ~ March 9th

I saw him! I know there is this other person just across the river. It was while we were on the way back, and I happened to look back across the river from the rail trestle, and there he was by the river bank. Climbing it? I think so, but why? And how can I say it was the same man that belonged to the footprints? I can’t. I feel it though. I believe it was him. Who else could it have been?

I wanted to go back right then. Tom refused. There was no reason for him to refuse, but he did. We argued about it. I mean really argued. I hadn’t realized or really even thought about what it is about Tom that I don’t like. Maybe a better way to say that is, what keeps me away from him. Why didn’t I, in all this destruction, hopelessness, just fall into his arms, or love, or whatever would pass for love in this world? Isn’t that logical? Shouldn’t I have? But I didn’t, and the reason is that he’s got this attitude about what place a woman has in his world. It came out today when we argued. I think I picked it up subconsciously before that though, and it kept me away from him.

Anyway I’m not going to go there. I’m leaving in the morning to go over there and find the man that I saw. I know that sounds crazy. I know it does, but I’m going. I’m getting up at sunrise, and I’m going. Jan and Bob said they would go with me. If Tom doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to. We’re not speaking at all. Lydia seems upset by that. She wants him, but not at my expense. I guess that makes me like her a little more than I did.

I was outside until way after dark looking for firelight on the other side of the river. I didn’t see any at all. I don’t know that area though. Maybe I wouldn’t see a fire over there. Maybe he is being careful. I want to know so much. When will I know it?

Mike ~ March 10th ? (probably)

Another long day. More trips back and forth to the supermarket. The days are definitely longer, but so are the nights. I don’t see how that can be, but it is. I have no real way to judge it; it’s just a gut feeling. I found several watches by the checkouts. None of them work either. But, I know its true. I feel the longer days. I feel the longer nights. That’s all I can say.

A few days back I became sure that the days were even longer, and that’s changed. They’re not as long as that, but still longer than they used to be.

I was thinking, who are you? I know that’s kind of dumb, but you are somebody, right? And you’re reading this, right? And, how far away is it in time? Place? Do you know who I am, or did you just find this and begin reading it? Have you been through this too? Is it over and explained? For all I know, no one is here to read this. I can’t really believe that though. Man, I really can’t… won’t. It’s the only reason I’m writing this. So that someone, you, will know who I am and that I made it, at least so far. And as I go along, I hope to get some answers. There must be some somewhere. Maybe you have them. Maybe.

So my name is Mike, Michael Collins. I’m a website designer… Was, I guess. I guess there’s no more internet, right? Hopefully it’ll be back though. I’m twenty-three years old and I live here in Watertown, have all of my life. I’m single, and it looks like I might remain single for a while. That’s not funny really. Hopefully I’ll find other people soon. I can’t be the only one left. But if I do, or if I don’t, I’ll have this written record.

I dragged about fifty sled loads of stuff down here today. The inside of the market is really beginning to smell bad. No, really bad. And, I found more bodies also, two today. I’ve been concentrating on canned stuff, trying to make sure I don’t get sick. There is a lot of it, and I have a lot of it here now.

I heard dogs today and not far away either. And, there were paw prints in the supermarket. And something had been at the bodies. The dogs, I suppose. I was kind of leery of going in, but they weren’t there. And had they been, they probably would’ve been as afraid of me as I was of them. But I was also wondering, were they dogs? Wolves? I mean, don’t they sound the same? Leave the same sort of tracks? Maybe not to someone who knows what to look for in the tracks, but to me they look like dog tracks. And the bodies I had found had been partially eaten. Something was eating them. Dogs? Wolves? I didn’t know, but I knew I had to be careful.

That got me thinking about the zoo. What happened to all the animals there? So I walked out State Street, but I couldn’t get all the way up to the park entrance. The road’s gone. The whole park area seems to be gone. No trees, just raw earth. So, I turned back around and came back. I don’t think anything could’ve lived through that. But lions, wolves, bears? There are a few new things to worry about, right? Can a lion survive in the winter? I don’t know. But I walked back from my trip to the park a lot faster than I walked up there.

But I heard dogs… or wolves. I heard them, and if they lived,

other people had to live, right? And a few times now I’ve felt that I was being watched. You know that feeling you get? Well I’ve gotten it a few times in the last few days. I still haven’t seen anyone though. I’ve called out a few times; no one has answered.

I haven’t seen other footprints, but it’s been a little warmer, and the snow has melted. Not all of it, but a lot of it. And they could also walk where I’ve been walking, in which case I wouldn’t see their tracks. But they should have no trouble finding me. I’m not trying to hide or be careful about the tracks I leave. I don’t know if that’s good or not. I’ve been thinking about that as well.

I’m not much for guns. I’ve never shot a pistol or a rifle or gone hunting. But I’m thinking of walking back out Arsenal Street. There were a few sporting goods stores out there. I even took a few things from one of them the other day, but I didn’t think about guns at the time. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow.

A weird thing did happen today. I was being careful, making sure there were no dogs or wolves, or whatever in the store. Looking around. I was up at the front where the payphones are, there was a time when people used things like payphones. These were still here from that time, and one of them rang. As soon as it did, the other two there rang as well. Only a little jangle. It didn’t last more than a second, but it scared the crap out of me. I thought I was dead right there. For some reason, I thought the wolves had sneaked up on me, come up behind me and were about to get me. Don’t ask me how I got wolves from a ringing phone, but I did.

I calmed down after a few minutes, and so I walked over and picked up the nearest receiver. Static. Scratchy static. Then it cleared for a second and, it was probably just my nerves, but I could swear I heard someone there. Maybe not heard, I don’t know if I heard anything at all. It was more like I knew someone was there: You know what I mean? Like when you get a crank call and the person doesn’t speak, but you know that they are there anyway? Like that. Exactly like that. But, then it went right back to scratchy static, and I felt stupid for even thinking it at all. Who could’ve been there? Who would know I was there? It was just nerves. I know it was.

After I got everything back to this cave, I organized it. I’ve brought back a lot of stuff. Meat, vegetables, bottled water. I have to work my way over to some other aisles. I need rice, pasta, maybe some instant potatoes. I started on that today. I got part way through the end cap, but the whole roof seems to be resting on that part of the aisle stands, and it’s the same way on the other end. That’s when I found the bodies. It was so bad I couldn’t tell what they had been.

I thought it might be better to go through the aisle dividers. They are solid steel though, and I can’t see any way through them, short of a set of torches. Maybe I could find a set, but it seems as though it would be easier to start from the checkouts and work my way through the piles of stuff until I hit another aisle. I have no idea what each aisle is though.

Yeah, I’ve been there about a thousand times, and I can tell you where the beer and chips would be, paper plates, disposable forks and spoons, but that’s about it. I’d hate to spend five hours or more of digging just to reach the toilet paper and sanitary napkins in aisle four. That would be my luck. But there’s nothing to do for it except to do it. Or go find a set of torches.

I know I need carbs. Canned meat and vegetables are good, but very low carbs. It’s funny, but I need fat, things I’m burning heavy and need to replace. I have nearly constant exercise. My pants are hanging off me. Who knew it could be this easy to lose weight?

I’d also like to find supplements, a good selection of first aid stuff, vitamins, band aids, disinfectant, things like that. I guess that’s my next bit of time mapped out for me.

Other things I’m looking for: A wind up watch (Should work right?).

An old car or truck without an electronic brain (My hope is that if it’s just a simple distributor/spark arrangement with a carburetor, I should be able to get it to work). I think electronics are shot. They don’t work, that’s for sure. But I could be wrong. Maybe they will in time.

A battery powered T.V. ; maybe there will be a station on. I know it’s a long shot. Everything is digital. Do they even make battery powered digital televisions?

A C.B. or Ham radio. That would let me listen to the state, maybe the world. I should be able to reach someone.

And last, I’m going to check every phone I come across… just in case.

It’s early, but I’m tired. I wish I weren’t alone.

……………………………………………………….

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Weekly Zombie Plagues Post 2

Weekly Zombie Plagues Post 2 Geo 02-17-2017

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.

……………………………………………………….

Journals and Diaries

Mike

March 8th

I debated with myself about how to start this. Isn’t that stupid? Not whether I should start it. I guess that means that I have some hope that I am not the only one.

Actually, I know that I’m not the only one. I’ve heard gunshots more than once. I’ve heard a dog barking as well. And I’ve seen several dogs, cats, squirrels, etc… I’ve also heard what sounded like a car or a truck, but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Everything is so quiet; it could be anywhere.

The sound of the river drowns things out. Even so, I haven’t seen any other people. None. And, I’m getting ahead of myself again.

I have no idea what has happened, even here in this town. It doesn’t really matter either, except to tell you, whoever you may end up being, what happened from my point of view, I guess. Maybe it’s the same for you. Maybe writing this out is a waste of time. But, it keeps my mind off shit, you know?

So, I wondered where to start? Today? Last week? Just start, I guess…

I have heat, food, fire. And I’ve finally gotten myself moved into this cave, so my mind is more at ease. But, again, I’m getting ahead of myself. It started for me last week on the 2nd of March. Only six days, but everything here has changed.

I was having a few beers, watching the coverage of the world countdown party; hey, it was supposed to be a joke, right? And, supposedly, we had a few months to go. It was supposed to be one long countdown party. One minute everything was fine, and the next the power was out.

Then the first quake hit…

I made it through that night and… two more quakes? Aftershocks? Who knows? I was just trying to get through to the morning. Phones were out; Sirens everywhere; No power. But, the closer it got to dawn the less noise there was. The sirens fell off. The rain started hard, and then the lightning came. A thunder and lightning storm in the middle of winter!

It was spooky, and when morning finally came, it didn’t make much sense at all. Almost everything I could see in every direction was flattened. The streets had cracked open and had become rivers. The temperature was higher than it should have been. But that didn’t last.

By noon the rain stopped, and I kept expecting to see someone. Emergency workers… Power Company… Somebody. Even a neighbor. But I saw no one at all that day.

I guess as serious as it was, I wasn’t taking it seriously. At least not the first day. I was still thinking rescue, help, it’s on the way. This is the most powerful country in the entire world. Help is coming. So I sat on my ass and drank beer and ate bologna sandwiches and chips, staring out at the street from my front porch, which was perched on the edge of a twenty foot rain gully.

Just before dark, the real quake hit. It had to have been stronger than the previous ones. It felt like it anyway.

I barely jumped off the porch before it fell into the gully. Scared the hell out of me. It wasn’t long after that when darkness settled in and I knew I was in trouble. Something in the whole structure of the house was damaged. Every aftershock made it dance, sway around me. It was also now a two foot drop down to the ground since my porch was gone. And I didn’t dare leave, because I had no idea what it was like outside. No Streetlights. No Moon. No starlight. No starlight, none! Then the storms came back, and the air turned back to cold.

Every time the lightning flashed I could see the street, or what had been the street. There was no more street, not really. It was a river; wide, and it looked pretty deep, all the opposite side of the street was gone now. No houses, cars, telephone poles, satellite dishes. Nothing. It seemed like the entire side of the street had washed away right down to the river. The water roared past me – just a few feet from where my porch had been – flattened out, and then turned into rapids breaking away to crash into the Black river further down the hill. That was when I realized it wasn’t just the other side of the street that was gone. The other two blocks that had been between me and the river were also gone.

Later on, the rain turned to snow, but the lightning kept up. Lightning in a snow storm. How crazy is that? By the morning of March 4th, the river running past my house was down to a trickle, but the snow was piling up. Down the hill the Black was over her banks. There was nothing else to see, a few solitary houses still standing as my own was. But there was no one around anywhere. That’s when I got into the hard stuff.

I drank myself to sleep, and when I woke up I’d lost several hours. My watch still worked at that point. When I walked to the front door, the first thing I noticed was footprints in the snow. Three sets, two small, maybe kids or women, one big, going just past my house, no more than three feet from my house, where once upon a time in some other world my porch had been, and I had slept through it. I yelled and screamed for a half hour hoping that someone would hear me, but no one came. No one yelled back and told me to shut up either. Just absolute silence. No birds, just the roar of the swollen Black. Nothing else.

I’ve thought about the day, the fourth, a couple of times. Was it the fourth? The fifth? Did I sleep more than a few hours? I don’t know. And that was the day my watch stopped working, so I don’t know. One minute it was working, the next it wasn’t. The face was blank.

There were a couple of more aftershocks that day, and I began to wonder if my house would be standing much longer. After all, nearly everything around me was destroyed already. And, I thought, what if that was an aftershock? Like I had thought the first quake was the real one and then the one the next day was so much stronger. It made me realize how stupid I was to still be in that house. And, I thought, no wonder no one is answering when I yell. They were all smart enough to get away from the buildings. Leave. And if I left also, I reasoned, I’d most likely catch up to them, whoever they were, wherever they had gone. That was when I had glanced at my watch and noticed that it had stopped working.

I had been in the habit of looking at my watch all day. Just nervous, I guess. I was positive that I had just looked at it and it had been working. But, when had that been? What time had it been? And when had it been that I had looked at it? How long ago? All I could remember for sure was that the last aftershock that had started me wondering had been at 2:57 P.M. I wasn’t sure of anything after that. Even when I thought back on it later, wondering what day it was, I wondered why I had never thought to push the little date button to see what the date had been. Or had I? Had I and then forgotten that I had? Had I only remembered subconsciously that it was the fourth? Anyway, the watch was dead. And what time was it? And where should I go? And how soon would it be dark? After wasting time wondering about things like that, things that were absolute bullshit in light of everything else, I just jumped down into the snow and headed off towards downtown.

There were a few buildings standing in that direction. It was still snowing pretty hard, but I could see the outlines of the buildings through the snow.

There were planes overhead in the night. I know that sounds crazy, but I awoke to hearing them. There was a strange smell in the air, and I was thinking, in my dream? Maybe in my dream or maybe awake. Anyway, I was thinking crop dusters. Like they were crop-dusting. Spraying something. It was weird. Now I could see traces of blue… powder? Something on the snow, and it made me remember the dream. But I pushed it away and walked. Too much to see and comprehend as it was without worrying over bad dreams.

Normally it’s no more than a fifteen minute walk to the Square. Watertown has an old New England style Public Square that is the center of downtown. I figured that if anyone was still alive, that was where they would be.

In fact, I told myself, they probably would have some buildings open for shelter. Fire Department passing out blankets, bottled water, hot soup. I could see it so clearly in my head. I was wrong, of course, but that’s a story for tomorrow. My fingers are shot. Hey it would be easy to write this on my computer keyboard, but computers are a thing of the past now.

I’m warm. I’m dry. I’m pretty much okay. I survived the day the world ended, but my fingers are sore and I’m tired, so I’ll pick this up tomorrow.

Candace

March 8th

Fresh snow today. The whole world is covered in clean, white snow. It makes it look like nothing ever happened here.

I’m with a man named Tom. He’s crazy about me. I just can’t feel the same. I could fake it, but I told myself I’m not going to do that. But I can’t keep on this way either. It is too hard on him, too hard on me.

Bob and Jan Dove are also with us. I don’t know what I would do without Jan. She is level headed where I am impulsive, a thinker where I tend to just act. A good balance. Bob has an idea of rebuilding his peoples’ lands. He’s Native American, and so is Jan. It sounded crazy when he first said it, but after I thought about it, it began to make sense to me.

Lydia is the other member of our party. She hates me. That’s because Tom wants me, and she wants Tom. Maybe that will fix itself before I have to fix it by leaving and going on my own.

Today we decided to see if the city was any better on the other side of the river. It isn’t. We crossed the river, the Black river, on a railroad trestle. There is a traffic bridge, and it looks passable, but it’s clogged with cars and some of those cars look purposely placed to block it off. That creeped me out.

We walked across the trestle, carefully, and went up State street. There’s a store there, a supermarket, and we found tracks in the snow. One person. A man I would guess from the boot tread.

I can not tell you what that was like. Seeing a footprint left by someone else. Someone else alive in this whole mess. I felt connected to him. I can’t say it or explain it any better than that. Like a connection existed forever and I only had to find it. I tried to explain it to Lydia but she just shrugged. We have this thing with Tom between us though. She wants him; he wants me. I don’t want him. It could be so Goddamn simple, but it isn’t.

Except the footprints. Maybe the footprints are the answer. I think they are. I believe they are. We just need to find the person, the man, that goes with those footprints and… And I don’t know. I really don’t. But I think he’ll know.

The only bad thing today, we came across a dead man laying crumpled by the side of the road. I could have sworn he moved, so I hurried to him. But as I got closer, I could see that he was dead. Long dead. We stood for a moment and then walked on. Later when we came back he was gone, and I thought, was he dead? Was he? But I know that he was. I suppose that wild dogs or something got him. We didn’t talk about it, but it bothered all of us.

Mike

March 9th

Maybe it’s March ninth. I guess I really don’t know. But that’s what I think it is, so that’s what I’m going with.

It’s late. I spent today getting food, canned stuff mostly. It was rough. Almost everything is flattened, and what isn’t flattened is badly damaged. I spent about five hours a few days ago digging my way into a supermarket on State Street. The roof was down but held up by the tops of the aisle stacks, so I was able to make my way through. I just had to be really careful of broken glass. That was where I went back to today.

I had no flashlight at first, but I managed to get a small flashlight and batteries. I had to take so much stuff out of the front area of the store, that all the impulse stuff they sell was right there, candy, little radios, and of course flashlights and batteries. I tried a small portable radio. Nothing but static on the A.M. and F.M. bands both. I brought it back with me along with some extra batteries. I listened to it a short while ago; still nothing. Maybe tomorrow.

I spent the day at the supermarket digging out canned goods and bringing them back here.

Here is a cave. The cave is down in back of the square, downtown as it’s called. I knew about it from growing up here. It used to be bricked up. The quake took care of that though. I was worried about the cave itself collapsing, but it seems to be fine.

It’s only about a mile and a half from here to the supermarket, but with no vehicle it’s slow going. I’ve been piling stuff up on a large sled and making trips back and forth.

I found several cars and trucks, snowmobiles, but none of them will run. Most of them have no juice, but even the ones that do just turn over but won’t fire up. Maybe if I was a mechanic I could do something, but I’m not. So, it’s the sled and a lot of muscle work.

I did notice today, after not going there for two days, that no one else had been there either. No tracks in the fresh snow. It’s depressing. No way can I be the only freaking guy here, right? And that made me wonder, what the hell am I writing this for? I mean, if there’s no one left, who will read it? I guess those are questions for another day. Another day because, truly, I don’t want to deal with them today.

So I spent my day getting food. There are maybe two dozen buildings still standing downtown. But that’s where I was when I left off writing yesterday, heading for downtown, so I’ll pick it up from there.

When I got downtown there was no one there, only the handful of buildings standing as I mentioned, and two of those went down a short time later from an aftershock. The Police department… Gone. The Fire department out Washington Street… Gone. I know I walked out there. Ditto the high school. All the old houses, the newspaper, the museum. Really, it’s all gone.

There were some tracks, but how old were they? I couldn’t tell. And I couldn’t tell where they were headed either. I got pretty down about it and ended up walking back down to the square and then down towards the river in back of the square. There was a porn shop, still there. It seemed like the dirtiest place I’d ever seen. I mean, why would a place like that still be there, still be standing when almost nothing else was?

Is that a statement or what? Hey, maybe it is. But since I was down that far, I thought I’d take a look at the river, and that made me think about the cave.

This whole area is limestone, caves everywhere. This one just happened to be a big one.

It wasn’t hard to find it. It’s on an old abandoned road below the level of the square, but a good hundred feet or so above the level of the river. All the brick work that had once closed it off had fallen. The cave itself seemed okay. Some rock had come down, but not much. Most of the rock lying around looked pretty old, like it had been there for some time. Given the buildings, which were still falling, or the cave, I chose the cave. It just seemed to make more sense.

It’s quite deep. I have no idea how deep it goes and no inclination to follow it and see. The front area is huge, and dry, more room than I could ever use, so there’s no need for me to go into that darkness and find out how deep it goes. And that’s funny, isn’t it? What is it that I’ll need? Might need? Could need? I don’t know. I do know I won’t be spending the rest of my life living in a cave, that’s for sure. But it’s winter. I have to stay somewhere for the next few months. Then maybe I’ll head south if no one shows up to rescue me. I guess it would be me, there’s no one else here. It shouldn’t be that way though. There has to be more than me.

I spent the rest of the day looking around. I walked all the way out to Arsenal Street as well as Washington Street. The mall, or most of it, has collapsed. But I should be able to get some stuff out of it. The interstate is car wrecks and bodies everywhere. I could see it from the overpass. I didn’t feel a need to go down there to see it in person. I didn’t want to.

I hadn’t really seen many bodies. Some at the mall, some at the supermarket, a few others here and there, but there is so much ground, houses, things missing, that I think the other people just got swallowed up by the quake. There is a lot of raw earth. Most of the streets are messed up. The interstate is like that in places, what I can see any way, but close to Arsenal Street, it’s all wrecks and bodies, wrecked and burned vehicles; and it smells horrible. I could smell it long before I came up on the overpass. I’ve decided it will take a lot to get me to go back out Arsenal Street again.

The supermarket has that smell also, and I found two people up by the checkouts when I first dug it out, but none since then as I’ve dug out other parts of the store. Maybe it’s the meat department at the back of the store that smells like that.

I spent most of the next day wandering around, trying to start cars and trucks, calling out to the people I had hoped were there. Nothing. I heard something that sounded like an engine running, but it came and went on the wind and I couldn’t tell where it had come from. But I took that as a good sign. It has to be someone, right?

I can’t imagine being alone.

I tried to start new cars, old cars, new trucks, you name it. None of them do anything except turn over. But at least their batteries are working.

That was the day I realized that the daylight seemed to last way too long. My watch wasn’t working, so I can’t say for sure, but the sun just seemed to hang in the sky all day, then it seemed to sink in the wrong direction once it did set. And I was sick all day. My stomach. And I was light headed.

The night lasted a long time, and the sun came back up in the wrong place, unless my sense of direction is off. Maybe it is. In any case, I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the earthquakes? I don’t know. It could’ve been, but it doesn’t seem possible.

The end of the world books were saying the Earth would stop and then run backwards. Maybe it did, but I didn’t feel weightlessness if it did, or at least I don’t think so. But I thought about the vehicles, magnetic poles. Maybe because everything is electronic now they can’t work? I don’t know. It’s just an idea, but I’m thinking I’ll look for an older vehicle to try out my theory on. Like I said, I wish I were a mechanic, and then I’d know.

I spent a lot of time clearing out the rock and broken bricks in this cave, bringing food in and even some chairs, blankets, things like that. I’ve collected a lot of firewood and every butane lighter I could find. Paper plates, plastic forks and spoons. And, man oh man, coffee. I found a small metal coffee pot in an aisle with camping gear. It works pretty damn well. I got some heavy duty pots and pans there too.

All of that over the last few days, but still no other people. It makes me wonder about the tracks that went past my house. Where did they go? Where is there to go? I turn the radio on every once in a while, but nothing. Even so, I’m keeping my attitude upbeat. Positive. There has to be other people. Doesn’t that just make sense? Winter can’t last much past May, and then it will be time to get out of here… hopefully with other people.

……………………………………………………….

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Weekly Zombie Plagues Post 1

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.

……………………………………………………….

CHAPTER ONE

CANDACE

March 1st

The traffic leaving the parking lot had slowed to a trickle, the lot nearly empty. The live shows were over, the bands packed up and gone, the dancers gone before or at the same time. The club was empty except Jimmy, the club boss, Don, the main door security, and me.

“Why are you still here, Candy,” Jimmy asked as he came up to the bar. He was on his way back from the parking lot. It was a short trip across the parking lot to the bank night deposit on the lot next door.

“I had an idea that Harry would be by tonight. He wanted to talk to me,” I shrugged. Harry was a Bookie, at least on the surface. Off the surface, or maybe it would be truer to say under the surface, Harry controlled most of the organized crime north of Syracuse. Jimmy… Jimmy managed the club, among other things, but the best description for Jimmy was to say Jimmy solved problems for Harry.

“Wants to talk you into staying here. That’s about all,” Jimmy said.

I turned away and pretended to check my face in the mirrored wall behind the bar. I wanted to Dance. I had suggested to Harry, through Jimmy, that maybe it was time for me to move on if there wasn’t any hope of me dancing. “Anyway, I ended up tending bar. So…”

“So it’s not dancing.” He dug one hand into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. He peeled two hundreds from the roll and pushed them into my hand, folding his hand over my own and closing it when I started to protest.

“But,” I started.

“But nothing. We did a lot in bar sales. You and I both know it was because of you.” He smiled, let go of my hand and stepped back. “It was me, not Harry,” he said.

I fixed my eyes on him. I knew what he might be about to say, but I wanted to be sure.

He sighed. “It was me that put the stop to your dancing. You’re too goddamn good for dancing, Candy. And once you start?” He barked a short, derisive laugh. “The law thing? Right out the window. What’s a cop make anyway in this town? Maybe thirty or forty a year?” He settled onto one of the stools that lined the bar, tossed his hat onto the bar top and patted the stool next to him. He continued talking.

“So, thirty, maybe forty, and what’s a dancer make? I can tell you there are dancers here who make better than one fifty a year. And that’s what I pay them. That’s not the side stuff or tips.” He moved one large hand, fished around behind the bar and came up with a bottle of chilled Vodka from the rack that held it just below eye level. He squinted at the label. “Cherry Surprise,” he questioned in a voice low enough to maybe be just for himself. “This shit any good, Candy?”

“It’s not bad,” I told him. I leaned over the bar and snagged two clean glasses when he asked me, setting them on the bar top. He poured us both about three shots worth. “Jesus, Jimmy.”

He laughed. “Which is why I don’t make drinks. It’d break me.” He sipped at his glass, made a face, but sipped again. I took a small sip of my own drink and settled back onto the bar stool.

“So, I said to myself, smart, beautiful, talented, and you have that something about you that makes men look the second time. You know?” He took another small sip. “Man sees a woman walking down the street or across a crowded dance floor, beautiful or not he looks. That look might be short or it might be long. Depends on the woman. Then he looks away. Does he look back? Not usually. But with you he does. There are women men look at that second time for whatever reason, and you’re one of them. I looked a second time, and then I really looked, for a third time. And I’ve seen a lot. That tattoo makes men and women look again.” His eyes fell on the tattoo that started on the back of my left hand, ran up my arm, across my breasts and then snaked back down over my belly and beyond. I knew it was provocative. That was the rebellious part of me. I had no better explanation for why I had sat, lain, through five months of weekly ink work to get it done.

Jimmy rubbed one huge open palm across the stubble of his cheeks. “Jesus do I need a shave.” He took a large drink from his glass. “It wasn’t the tattoo. It caught my eye, but that wasn’t what made me look that third time.”

“Candy, I took a third look because I saw a young woman that doesn’t need to have anything to do with this world. You’re too goddamn smart, talented, for this. So I said no. I let you dance a few times, but I didn’t want you to fall into it. I made the decision that you should tend bar instead of dance.” He tossed off the glass.

“I see that,” I told him, although I didn’t completely see it. He was reading a lot about what he thought, what he saw, into who I really was.

“Yeah? I don’t think so, Candy. And that’s a reason right there. Candy… like a treat. When did it become okay for anyone to call you that, because I remember a few months back when you started hanging around, it was Candace, and pity the dumb bastard who didn’t understand that. Now it’s Candy to any Tom, Dick or Harry that comes along.” He saw the hurt look in my eyes, reached below the bar, snagged the bottle and topped off his glass. I shook my head, covered the top of my glass with my hand and smiled. He put the bottle back and continued.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, only keep you on track. I’m giving you the keys. You drive. All I’m saying is set your ground rules. Make them rigid. Don’t let anyone – me, Harry, these boys that work here, customers – Don’t let anyone cross those lines. You see, Candy?”

I nodded.

“Yeah? Then why not call me on calling you Candy? I’ve done it since we sat down. Why not start there?”

“Well… I mean, you’re the boss, Jimmy.”

“Which is why you start there. I don’t allow anyone to talk anyway to anyone that doesn’t want that. Let me explain that. You got girls that work the streets. You don’t see it so much here. It’s a small city, but it happens. I spent a few years on the streets in Rochester, bigger place, as a kid. Happens all the time there.” He sipped at his drink. I took a sip of my own drink and raised my brows at what he had said.

“Yeah? Don’t believe it? It’s true. I fought my way up. I have respect because I earned it.” He waved one hand. “Don’t let me get off track.” He smiled and took another sip from his glass. “So, I’ve seen girls on the streets… Whores… It is what it is. Would you hear me say that to them? Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. If a woman sees herself as a whore, if that’s all it is, what it is, then who am I to say different? Do you see? It’s a living, or it’s a life… There is a difference. Now back to you. You want to dance. Some of these girls,” he waved one meaty hand at the empty stage area, “work the other side. Some of them do that for me, some do it on their own. Some don’t,” he sighed. “Either way you would not see me treat them any other way than what they want to be treated. I mean that. If you believe you are a whore and that is what you see, then that is what you show the world, and that is how the world sees you… treats you,” he settled his eyes on me.

I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice. I had been down this road on my own. What did it say about me? That it only mattered that I made it? That money mattered more than anything else? Would I be swayed by the money? Was I even being honest with myself about my motivations? I really didn’t know. I knew what I told myself on a daily basis… that I wanted to follow my Father into law enforcement, but was it whimsical like so many other things in my life that I never followed through on?

“You are not just a dancer. There is a part of you that is, a part of you that likes the way a man looks at you, likes the money. But there is another part that is the private you, the real you. You need to keep those distinctions.” He rubbed at his eyes, tossed off the rest of his drink and rose from the bar stool. “Let me drop you home, Candy,” he asked.

I stood, leaving my mostly full drink sitting on the bar top. “I have my car,” I told him.

“It’s late. Creeps around maybe.”

“Jimmy, every creep in my neighborhood knows I work here… for you. Guys stopped talking to me, let alone the creeps.” I laughed, but it wasn’t really all that funny. It had scared me when I realized who Jimmy was, who Jimmy worked for. In effect, who I worked for. Another questionable thing? Probably.

Jimmy nodded. “Smart creeps. The southern Tier’s a big place. Easy to lose yourself, with or without a little help.” He looked at his watch and then fixed his eyes on me once more. “So you keep your perspective, set your limits, draw your lines,” he spoke as he shrugged into his coat, retrieved his hat from the bar top and planted it on his head, “Don’t let anybody cross those lines. You start next week, let’s say the eleventh?”

I nodded.

“Take the balance of the time off. By the time the eleventh comes around you should be ready for a whole new world. A whole new life.” He stood looking down at me for a second. “The big talk I guess. For what it’s worth, I don’t say those things often, Candy.”

I nodded. “I believe that. And, Jimmy?”

He looked down at me. He knew what was coming. He expected it, and that was the only reason I was going to say it. I knew better than to correct Jimmy V. There were a lot of woods up here. They did go on forever and they probably did hold a lot of lost people. I may be slow but I’m far from stupid.

“Please don’t call me Candy,” I told him.

He smiled. “Don’t be so goddamn nice about it. Don’t call me Candy,” he rasped, a dangerous edge to his voice. “Look ’em right in the eye. Don’t call me Candy. Put a little attitude in your look. A little I can fuckin’ snap at any minute attitude. Let me see that.”

I Put my best street face on. The one I had used growing up on the streets in Syracuse. I knew that I can snap at any minute look. I’d used it many times. “Don’t call me Candy,” I told him in a voice that was not my own. My street voice, “Just don’t do it.”

“Goddamn right, Doll,” Jimmy told me. “Goddamn right. Scared me a little there. That’s that street wise part of you.” He took my head in both massive hands, bent and kissed the top of my head. “I will see you on the eleventh,” he told me.

I nodded. I let the Doll remark go.

I followed Jimmy out the back door past Don who nodded at me and winked. Don was an asshole. Always hitting on us when Jimmy wasn’t around. But Jimmy was his uncle. I was employing my best selective perception when I smiled at him. I wondered if I would ever get used to him. Probably not, I decided, but maybe that would be a good thing. Of course, it didn’t matter. I never saw Don again. Or Jimmy. Or anyone else from that life.

I said goodbye to Jimmy V, crossed the parking lot for the last time and drove myself home. I parked my rusted out Toyota behind my Grandparents house, and twenty-four hours later my world, everybody’s world, was completely changed.

Candace ~ March 2nd

This is not a diary. I have never kept a diary. They say, never say never, but I doubt I will. I have never been this scared. The whole world is messed up. Is it ending? I don’t know, but it seems like it’s ending here. Earthquakes, explosions. I’ve seen no Police, Fire or emergency people all day. It’s nearly night. I think that’s a bad sign. I have the Nine Millimeter that used to be my Father’s. I’ve got extra ammo too. I’m staying inside.

Candace ~ March 3rd

I lost this yesterday; my little notebook. I left it by the window so I could see to write, but I swear it wasn’t there when I went to get it; then I found it again later on by the window right where I left it. Maybe I’m losing it.

There are no Police, no Firemen, phones, electric. The real world is falling apart. Two days and nothing that I thought I knew is still here. Do you see? The whole world has changed.

I got my guitar out and played it today. I played for almost three hours. I played my stuff. I played some blues. Usually blues will bring me out of blues, but it didn’t work. It sounded so loud, so out of place, so… I don’t know. I just stopped and put it away.

Candace ~ March 4th

I’m going out. I have to see, if I don’t come back. Well… What good is writing this?

Candace ~ March 5th

The whole city has fallen apart. I spent most of yesterday trying to see how bad this is. I finally realized it’s bad beyond my being able to fix it. It’s bad as in there is no authority. It’s bad as in there is no Jimmy V. I hear gunshots at night, all night. And screams. There are still tremors. If I had to guess, I would say it’s the end of the civilized world, unless things are better somewhere else. I have to believe that. Power, structure, it’s all gone. I mean it’s really all gone. This city is torn up. There are huge areas that are ruined. Gulleys, ravines, missing streets, damaged bridges. The damage costs have to be in the billions… And that’s just here. There’s me and my little notebook I’m writing in, and my nine millimeter. I’ve got nothing else for company right now.

I’ve got water, some peanuts and crackers. How long can this go on? What then?

Candace ~ March 6th

I’ve decided to leave. I can’t stay here. There was a tremor last night, and not one of the really bad ones, but even so I was sure the house would come down on me. It didn’t. Maybe though, that is a sign, I told myself. And scared or not, I have to go. I have to. I can’t stay here. Maybe tomorrow.

Candace ~ March 7th

The streets are a mess. I’ve spent too much of the last week hiding inside my apartment. Most of my friends, and that’s a joke, I didn’t have anyone I could actually call a friend; So I guess I would say most of my acquaintances believed my grandparents were alive and that I lived here with them. They weren’t. I didn’t. I kind of let that belief grow, fostered it, I guess.

I planted the seed by saying it was my Nana Pans’ apartment. You can see the Asian in me, so it made sense to them that she was my Nana. But I look more like I’m a Native American than African American and Japanese. It’s just the way the blood mixed, as my father used to say. But Native American or Asian, they could see it in my face. And this neighborhood is predominantly Asian. Mostly older people. There were two older Asian women that lived in the building. They probably believed one of those women was my Nana, and I didn’t correct them.

I can’t tell you why I did that. I guess I wanted that separation. I didn’t want them, anyone, to get to know me well. My plan had been to dance, earn enough money for school – Criminal Justice – and go back to Syracuse. Pretend none of this part of my life had ever happened. Some plan. It seemed workable. I wondered over what Jimmy V. had said to me. Did he see something in me that I didn’t, or was he just generalizing? It doesn’t matter now I suppose.

My Grandmother passed away two years ago. The apartment she had lived in was just a part of the building that she owned. Nana Pan, my mother’s mother, had rented the rest of the building out. The man who had lived with her was not my Grandfather – he had died before I was born – but her brother who had come ten years before from Japan. They spoke little English. People outside of the neighborhood often thought they were man and wife. She didn’t bother correcting them, my mother had told me. Nana Pan thought that most Americans were superficial and really didn’t care, so what was the use in explaining anything to them? Maybe that’s where I got my deceptiveness from.

I had left the house as it was. Collected rents through an agency. For all anyone knew, I was just another tenant. Of course Jimmy V. had known. He had mentioned it to me. But Jimmy knew everything there was to know about everyone. That was part of his business. It probably kept him alive.

So I stayed and waited. I believed someone would show up and tell me what to do. But no one did. I saw a few people wander by yesterday, probably looking for other people, but I stayed inside. I don’t know why, what all my reasons were. A lot of fear, I think.

There have been earthquakes. The house is damaged. I went outside today and really looked at it. It is off the foundation and leaning. I should have gotten out of it the other night when I knew it was bad. It’s just dumb luck it hasn’t fallen in on me and killed me.

It doesn’t matter now though. I met a few others today, and I’m leaving with them. I don’t know if I’ll stay with them. I really don’t know what to expect from life anymore.

I’m taking this and my gun with me. Writing this made me feel alive. I don’t know how better to say it.

I’ll write more here I think. I just don’t know when, or where I’ll be.

Downtown Watertown

He came awake in the darkness, but awake wasn’t precisely the term. Alive was precisely the term. He knew alive was precisely the term, because he could remember dying. He remembered that his heart had stopped in his chest. He had remembered wishing that it would start again. That bright moment or two of panic, and then he remembered beginning not to care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. And he had drifted away.

Now he had drifted back. But drifted was not exactly right. He had slammed back into himself where he lay on the cold subbasement floor where he had been murdered by a roving gang of thieves. And he knew those things were true because he remembered them. And he knew they were true because he was dead. He was still dead. His heart was not beating in his chest. His blood was cold and jelled in his veins. He could feel it. Some kind of new perception.

He lay and watched the shadows deepen in the corners of the basement ceiling for a short time longer, and then he tried to move.

His body did not want to move at first. It felt as though it weighed a ton, two tons, but with a little more effort it came away. He sat and then crawled to his knees.

In the corner a huge rat stopped on his way to somewhere to sniff at him, decided he was probably food and came to eat him. He had actually sat for a second while the rat first sniffed and then began to gnaw at one fingernail. Then he had quickly snatched the rat up with his other hand, snapped it’s back in his fist and then shoved him warm and squirming into his mouth. A few minutes later he stood on shaky legs and walked off into the gloom of the basement, looking for the stairs and the way up to the streets.

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