Through The Eyes of Zombies!
Through The Eyes of Zombies!
This story is fiction and not recommended for those “Faint of Heart”
To go a day without food is not so hard. Before this I once went without food for four days but this time around it was eight days before I finally had something to eat. The man that fed me was a real ass hole to boot. People starving everywhere and he makes me shovel out the crap in his barn and chicken coop for two cheese sandwiches and an apple, screw him. When I left that old fart I went back by that chicken coop and rung the neck of eight or ten of them chickens and threw a couple of them in my gunny sack. Bite me, I thought as I headed on down the road, should have set the barn on fire as well. How can someone that has what he has be so damn cheap.
It has been two weeks since I left that hick with the dead chickens. Thank God he was unknowingly kind enough to let me have the two birds I took with me. If not for those two chickens and the sack of potatoes, candy bars and all else I stole from that other farm house I may have starved to death already. People should be more careful about locking their doors. Still, here I am again without any food.
It seemed like a good idea getting out of town but now I wonder. Staying in Salt Lake was really out of the question with just too many crazy’s looting, killing, taking whatever they could find. The only thing of value is food. You can buy a big screen plasma television with a raw hot dog. Going further south was just as bad with as many people or more starving to death. My brother had told me to head up his way that I could stay with him until things got better and I wouldn’t have to do a thing. He said he lives in a rural area outside of Eugene, Oregon with a lot of farm land surrounding his home. We just pick what we need to eat, he told me. The farmers don’t seem to miss it he said and that sounded all right by me. The best I could guess, Eugene was around eight hundred miles from Salt Lake City. If I hustled maybe I could make twenty five or thirty miles a day. Eight hundred miles to Eugene, about a month should see me there.
If you had a car it would do you no good, there was no gas. The first week out I thought I could follow the highways and scrounge from the abandoned cars along the way but so did a lot of other people. They were everywhere, idiots, people with nowhere to go wondering around like a bunch of third world sheep looking for food, some with their screaming kids hanging on their arms, starving, sick, and dying. It seemed the best idea now was to stay off the roads, avoid everyone, steal and scrounge my way north to my brother’s place. It’s pretty bad when one starts to smell themselves. Wish I had brought a change of clothes.
Now here I sit on this rock soaking up a little sun hoping some kind of animal may wonder by. I have my 22 rifle but only a little more than a box of shells left. Thankfully my rifle had never been registered when they came around confiscating weapons last year, although I did have to give up my 38. I didn’t have to wait long on that rock before a rabbit happened to show up. It took me what seemed at least two hours to clean and cook that little guy but he sure tasted pretty good, wish I had another one. After packing what I had back into my gunny sack I took off again heading north. At this rate it may be another two or three weeks before I make it to my brothers.
I know I’m still in Nevada but should be in Oregon in the next couple of days. I’ve managed to avoid all the larger cities and the crazy’s there. Most of the little towns I’ve passed through or skirted were deserted, people either starved out moving on to find relatives that could feed them or dead. It was useless to search the empty homes for food anymore as that had already been done or those that lived in them took everything with them when they left. The same was true for all the stores or supermarkets I passed.
So far my luck had been good. The weather’s been good and I suffered little rain. There always seemed to be a stream or lake where I could refill my jug and while a day or two would go by with nothing to eat eventually I would always seem to scare up a rabbit or gopher to munch on. I rarely ran across other people taking the back trails and roads and when I did I avoided the best I could. Believe it or not I had often times worried now; are there people out their hungry enough to kill and eat me? Don’t think this ridiculous as I have found myself entertaining the thought several times during this trip. When you’re as hungry as I’ve been, to kill and eat someone that seems to be just wasting air anyway, you might as well put them to use. At least I have a plan and am trying to get somewhere.
In Oregon now and again it’s been a few days since I last ate. I bet I’ve lost eighty pounds in the past month. Has it been a month? at least a month if not more. I find myself actually looking for people now, I’m hungry and I just don’t care. I just can’t see it any different than when I killed and ate that coyote a week or so ago and I bet it would taste a lot better. I heard or read somewhere that human meat actually has a sweet taste to it. Survival of the fittest they say.
This morning has to be the worst. I sleep like crap now and keep having night mares. I don’t ever remember them and know I don’t want to. I wake with an incredible fear, terrified and I don’t know of what but I know it’s real. Picking myself up I’ve got to get moving. I will stay closer to the main roads today so I can look for signs telling me direction and how far. Who knows, maybe I will find one of them sheep wondering the highway, that would be sweet.
One hundred and forty miles to Eugene the highway sign said. I’ve not seen any people for days, no cars on the roads except for those that have been abandoned. The sun is straight up giving me a good six or eight more hours I can walk. Pulling one of a few apples left in my sack that I picked from a tree I came across the other day I noticed a glint of light out of the corner of my eye. Looking that direction I could barely make out what had to be a house back in the trees a bit. A dirt road off the highway seemed to confirm my suspicions. Being hidden as it was, maybe, just maybe no one else has noticed it. I decided to take a look and see if fortune may land my way.
The house looked empty, no sign of anyone near but being careful I kept my rifle ready as I approached the front door. After knocking several times and shouting out to no one I tried the door knob. Finding the door locked I headed around back looking for another way in. The back door was shut but not locked so I shouted out once more before stepping inside.
Once inside the house everything seemed to be neat and pretty clean. It did not look as if anyone had been here for a while. Had I looked harder I might have noticed the tell-tale whiff of smoke still rising from the grill outside the kitchen window. Searching all the rooms showed signs of someone staying here but when? How long ago? The frig was empty, as expected with no power. The last door I checked as I thought, led to the basement.
I call it crazy or pretty damn smart; six, five gallon buckets of flour, five buckets of rice, another five buckets of beans and there must be at least another ten or twelve buckets of who knows what. The shelves that line one end of the room down here which must be twenty feet across must have a hundred or more cans of different kinds of crap. It looks like a damn supermarket. A few things I think pretty cool though are all the large bags of tobacco, must be a dozen or more, the four cases of Black Velvet and I bet at least a hundred boxes of different kinds of ammunition, this I can use. Maybe the guns that go with the ammo are around here, gonna have to do a little harder searching I thought.
The sound was deafening and I never felt a thing until my face hit the concrete. I tried to get my arms under me to pick myself up but could not. What the hell just happened? I could not feel my legs, my arms, nothing but the pain in my face. I think my nose broke when hitting the floor. Laying there I started to feel the warmth of something around my neck. That’s when I heard their voices.
You got him, deader than shit I heard someone say. Not a big deal to put a bullet in the neck of anyone from ten feet away replied another voice. Where do you suppose he came from Joe, I heard the first voice say, no one’s been around sense we showed up here? Who the hell cares was the reply. I’m just glad to have some fresh meat said Joe. Do you want to haul him outside? You know, it stays pretty cool down here, why don’t we just drag him over by that sump pump and carve him up there? We can cook up or hang to dry the meat we need to take with us when we head out.
I tried to yell but nothing would come out. I don’t think I can even move my lips. The only pain I could feel now was the scraping of my face on the concrete as they drug me across the floor. Strange, I wonder now what that old hick thought when he seen I killed all his chickens. Only able to stair straight ahead I watched as one of them was sharpening his knife. Hold his arm up he said, I’ll start there. I hope he tastes as sweet as the old couple that lived here did.
This story is fiction. Feel free to share if you like.
Read part one “Desperation, Fear, Death, a Prepper surviving a Zombie”
Let me know your thoughts, good or bad.
“The Zombies Trek North” Coming soon.