Sorry for the long wait. Me and my friends have just been driving with the military. They had a military laptop I could use.
Its been, what, a week so this'll be one of the longest postings I'll put up. Stay awake if you can. If not, I'll summarize everything in the second to last paragraph in Part 5. I'll get started.
The day after my last blog, it started raining. It was rather strange, rain in a place that was on the verge of drought.
My dog helped me wake up by licking my arm that was hanging over the bed. I was lucky Sam got every zombie on this block away from here. I had some really good shut eye since, without all the moaning and banging on walls. If the zombies took this long to find me again, their senses were more than human but less than animal. If that made any sense.
Back to the story. I quickly ran out to my balcony. I had a round laundry tub and an ice cooler with me. I was sure those would hold a good amount of water.
Before I could catch the cold, I ran back inside and hugged my dog. Pets are great climate controllers!
Anywho, the rain kept on pouring. I thought I was going to have another peaceful, noneventful day.
My cell phone started ringing. It was my friend Joe.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Dude! Get over to Landen's house! Zombies are surrounding the place!"
"He has food and water for fucking years!!!"
"You want me to waltz right into that horde of zombies because that place is safer?"
"Oh please! Landen and I got you covered. We're taking post on the second floor!"
"You have guns?"
"Hell yeah dude! A .22 Marylyn, a 12 guage. Hell, we even have some ninja daggers for you!"
I look at the M4 next to me.
"Wait! Tell me, do we have to shoot the head or can we shoot anywhere?"
"Nice. Alright, I'll see you."
I hung up the phone. It's time to get packing again.
-Main storage: Lemons, Water Bottles
-Front pocket: extra socks (It's raining, I don't want malaria and crap), pens (To record crap)
Landen's house already had medical stuff since his dad is in the health field. Also, I apparantly don't need to bring food.
Cargo pants with 6 pockets- Decided to go with this since they're khaki. Going for an urban desert color scheme.
-Front pockets: Cell phone
-Side pockets w/Velcro covers: World War Z (It fits), hand sanitizer
-Back pockets: Water desalinizers
Grey Jacket- Couples with the pants for a gray/beige, which should be good for my environment. The rain also hides my scent so Zeds should have a bit of trouble pointing me out.
-Pockets: Micro flashlight I won at an arcade. Don't know how much battery is left
-Back: M4 Carbine (Shweet!)
Landen's house isn't too far. I just need to travel 7 blocks. Passing the school and the intersection should take the longest. Should've asked Joe about his plans of getting north.
Since this was the last time I'd be in the house, I decided to actually take a bath. Well, it was more like sitting there, in that water that I considered drinking. But it felt better than being shit gross.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in my urban-desert outfit, I took one last glance at the place I used to call home. I looked at Sam, panting right outside my bathroom door. Damn hobo golden retriever. I doubted he would follow me.
"Do your own thing." That was the last thing I said to him before I let him loose on the streets again. Sam had his own thing. It was now time to go it alone.
Got 4 blocks with no trouble. Some cars were blocking off the road at the fifth, all blaring their sirens. I wanted to go the long way but I really wanted to just breeze through. Unfortunately, I believed in the shortcut karma. You know, where the shortcut ends up taking longer cause something got in the way.
For some reason, I thought I could take on the zombies that would eventually come my way. I guess anybody's confidence would grow if their hands are holding a weapon.
Then I thought of my mobility. If it came down to it, I'll have to use some amateur freerunning. Hoping from car to car, sliding, juking, the basic stuff. I don't think zombies could maintain balance well so I had a slight advantage with all the obstacles. Zombies don't have balance, especially in this rain. I pulled my hood up and braced myself.
I ran. I ran though the cars.
Turned my head.
Cursed to myself.
Jumped on top of a Camry.
Slid across it.
One of them crashed into it.
Several managed to go around.
I see a bus.
Kick off the bumper.
Run as hard as I can upwards.
Grab the roof.
I lift myself over.
Don't look back.
Run to other side of bus.
Bounce off another car.
Land hard on street.
Stuck running around the entire bus.
Infected in cars.
Run across diagonally.
Leap over motorcycle.
Topple into motorcycle.
Take out gun
Shoot driver with good reach
Ah yes, my old high school. Hated that place.
Besides that football thing, I didn't do anything for the school at all.
Had ABC honor roll, had no girlfriend.
My friend Bryan kind of saved my life during high school. His great ego and advanced workouts made me realize that I had to be strong.
He kept telling me that high school had too much drama and that your first love should be your high school sweetheart.
I don't know how many chick flicks he's seen but he was way in over his head to say he's had too much drama.
His drama: being a walking epic fail. He quit football the first day. He chased a few select girls with no results. Went on Mypsace and Facebook and typed sob stories of how they broke his heart.
He liked The Notebook.
What I learned from him: Not to ever be like him.
I would always push myself. I would always keep face, even when the times were tough.
Sure, just a semester of football. Better than the middle of the first warmups.
No girlfriends, but at least they didn't see me as a some pervert that turned emo once denied.
Smoked a hooka. That was random as hell.
Drank some beers. Sadly, one Smirnoff Ice gets me buzzed automatically.
Better than the hundreds of gatorades he drank to look manly.
That reminds me, I didn't mention his advanced workout program. If you find this plausible, leave my blog right now.
"This is for the women," said Bryan.
-1000 pushups a day (Don't know how many sets, he just told me and a whole bunch of others that this is his normal routine)
-2000 situps a day
-100 laps around the track a day
-Ankle and Wrist weights, 40 lbs each
Impresses the women, doesn't it?
Oh and he dedicates his life to Final Fantasy.
Back to the story. I looked at the school with contempt. I don't remember dealing with any drama. I just hated going to this place.
I decided to take a break and went in. The school was practically a fort inside. Huge halls, a cafeteria with food, messed up bathrooms. We even had a "third" floor that secluded anyone up there on a catwalk over the gym. Definitely a good spot to dwindle the undead forces.
It was scary walking into an unlit school, unless you guys are used to trespassing :P
Only one place was lit, the cafeteria. I started walking towards the door like a moth to a lightbulb.
I didn't see the butt of the rifle coming. Clocked me just above the cheekbone, taking me down pretty easy. As I layed on the floor, I heard several safeties unlocking and chambers loading. I looked up, the people were silohuetted by the light shooting out of the cafeteria.
One raised a fist. I remember from paintball that the hand gesture was meant to stop the others. Everyone aimed their guns down. The one put his hand out to me.
"How's it hanging Waley?"