A week? Maybe two since I killed Ginger. Why do I say killed? These things, these rejects from hell, they aren’t alive. They’re just… fuck. I don’t know what they are. I know that they eat people. Why? What does that do? So far, I haven’t found any droppings, haven’t seen one of them dump a load on the floor. None of them has come out of a building with toilet paper stuck to a shoe. Is there a scientist somewhere out there, trying to figure out why these disgusting things eat us?
I’m a bit distracted. I’ve reached Camp Tryon. A leftover from WW2, it was originally called Fort Tryon, and was used for training troops to send overseas in WW1. During WW2, it was used as a depot. After Korea, it was shut down. It had taken me way longer to get here than I thought it would. The gates were shut and the area silent. Was I being watched? Had I been followed by those nutty Troopers? I didn’t know. I did know one thing, Ted wasn’t here. We had a plan, a way to let one of us know if the other reached the camp first. A blue bandanna would be tied around the left pole of the gate. There was nothing. Getting out of my car, I went to the gate, unlatched, and opened it. Driving in, I shut the gate and locked it. Driving further into the camp, it looked just like I remembered. The various bunkers were in the same half moon as the old Quonsets and were covered with growth. The trees in the area were old growth and huge, so little could be seen of the camp from the road or the air. Driving across what would have been the parade ground, I saw a figure standing by the flagpole. The pole itself was weather worn, with no line to hang a flag off. Slowing, I put a hand to my AK. As I got closer, the figure turned. The late afternoon sunlight illuminated a vision of horror. The creature had no face, no eyes, just raw meat where the features had been. It was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, with no shoes. Stopping, I stepped out of the car, drew my machete, and advanced on it. Cutting off a head isn’t that easy. After my first chop, the head hung at an odd angle, but the thing raised its arms. They were easier to slice off. That done, I swept its legs from under it and… I went nuts. I chopped that bastard thing to pieces, not stopping until I was covered in sweat and gore. Wiping my face, and then cleaning off the machete, I wanted to scream my frustration at the world. Going back to my car, I left the destroyed thing in a pile. If any animals wanted to eat the bastard, they were welcome to it. Where it came from was my concern. I drove deeper into the camp where the vehicle storage bunker was. That was where I was going to make my base. Reaching it, I got out of my car, unlocked the large doors (thank you, Ted, for the keys!), and drove in. Once inside I left my lights on, and then shut the doors, locking and securing them. Getting out two lanterns, I lit them, leaving one on my hood, carrying the other. Shutting off my car, I moved deeper into the bunker, looking for the generator. There were only two vehicles inside the bunker, an old jeep, and a 6X6 truck. Neither looked like it could run, but I’d mess with them later. Boxes of MRE’s, old C and K rations (would they be edible?), 55 gallon drums of diesel (empty or full?) and winter clothing cluttered up one side. Reaching the generator, I debated turning it on, and then decided I needed light. After a few attempts at priming, the generator roared to life. A line of fluorescent lights crackled to life. As they did, their odd white light made me blink. I was alone, which was good and bad. I was sure if any of the dead fucks were in here, they would have attacked me immediately. Turning off my lantern, I returned to my car and shut that lantern as well, putting them both in my car. In the back of the bunker were living quarters. Tomorrow I’d do a survey of the area, try, and find out how that dead fuck got in. Now, I need some sleep. I do wish Ted had made it. I wondered what happened to his sister, Gemma. Perhaps she was laying low, or she was one of them. Would I ever find out?