Friday, January 13, 2012

Day 5

I sleep little. Visions of shooting that zombie, that man, kept returning to me. The blood, the rage on its face. I shot him. I have never shot anything other than rocks and maybe some debris. I once ran over a cat while driving home at night with my wife. I felt horrible. And now, in only a few days, I have become a killer. Doesn't matter if they are dead, or dying, or evil, I still killed a conscious being. Could I do it again? The answer shocked me. Yes. Yes, I could. If it means my life or Josh's, or my families life than I would. I would have to. 

This, however, still gave no comfort. I look towards Josh and can tell he wasn't handling it much better than I. If anything, his is worse and more personal. Blow after blow. I hear him crying late at night. This was too much for us. He was studying to be an engineer, and I a biologist. We are not killers or warriors we were scientists. I soon find myself crying along side him. I grip his shoulder as we both look out the windshield, crying, watching the landscape, waiting, we feel, to be attacked at any moment.

*   *   *

We spend most of the morning driving through the city. There are several zombies lingering around but none seemed interested in us and so we leave them alone. Too scared of the previous evenings events to disturb them. Finally, back up near the freeway we find a shooting range. Above and Beyond Firearm's Training. Its doors are locked and windows barred. I kick the door, but it barely moves. I try several more times but am unable to get through.

"Any ideas?" I ask Josh.

"Yeah. One." He walks to a nearby car and opens the door. He does this to several others until finally he steps into an SUV and shuts the door. I wait and seconds later the engine is running. I move out of the way as he reverses the car towards the double doors and rams them. Hard. One swings open while the other is blown off of its hinges. The noise is incredible, but it does the job. I look around, and not seeing anyone coming we enter the store.

The hardest part about stocking up on weapons is knowing what goes with what. What bullets go with what guns, or even how to operate the weapons. This is new territory for us. I grab from off of a wall where it hung an M21--which is what a sign next to the gun indicated--and look it over. It is long and black, with a scope on top. There is no magazine in it and so I spend the next hour looking for the appropriate bullet and clip to go with it. Josh had discovered that many military issue weapons were distributed here, which is why I found this specific gun hanging on the wall. I filled a back-pack I had found near the counter, with boxes of bullets and shotgun shells.

Josh meets me after grabbing his own weapons and supplies with an M4, another shotgun, and more amo.  We lay these down and grab more. I grab a CZ 750, which to me looks like a sniper rifle and so I feel it would come in handy. Half an hour later we are equipped with several weapons each, clips, attachments as well as some accessories such as blades and protective clothing. Most of which neither of us know how to use. I grab several guns and my bag of ammo and head to the firing range. It doesn't take long to figure out how to load the magazines, clip them in, cock the weapon and fire. However, my aim is atrocious. I work, trying to add a scope to the top of the gun and after firing three clips worth finally have it adjusted to a point in which it should work.

I hear a noise from inside the store and wheel around, aiming me new gun towards the open door for the firing range. There is nothing that I can see. I get anxious and my throat is dry. I realize I haven't eaten all day. The thought of firing this gun towards anything other than paper outlines of a person scares me as well. I look toward Josh and he too is aiming his gun out the door. Another noise, something dropping comes from the main shop. Slowly I walk out.

There, stumbling through the racks of clothes is a zombie. I motion to Josh to help me grab out stuff from the firing rang and once everything is secure--or as secure as it could be with the amount we have--we make our way to the exit, or rather, the broken down doors.

"Watch behind us," I whisper to Josh, motioning to the open doors.

The zombie has not noticed us yet which I am grateful for. My hands are shaking more violently than I would have liked and I know that if he does see us I will have to kill him. If kill is the right word. There is some comfort in that. It is obvious that they are dead. It is the look of them. Gray skin, mangled limbs. They are not living beings, and while that seems to help, the realization is hollow.

"Aaron," I hear my name whispered. "Aaron!" It is more urgent.

I turn around and see Josh pointing out of the doors and at the ground between us and our van. There are at least five zombies milling around.

"Do you think they heard the gun shots?" I ask, looking behind us at the preoccupied zombie.

"Probably." I look back out the doors and try and think. There must be a way around them.

It didn't matter. There is a scream from behind us, that same chilling shrill we had heard the night before. I spin around with Josh and we see the zombie running towards us. Even though the others are lost from sight, I can hear them turning and looking towards the yell. I look briefly at Josh and we acknowledges it. We do what we must.

I spin fully to face the zombies that are starting to come in as I hear Josh fire his first round. Everything seems to have slowed down as adrenaline is secreted through my body. I think of my wife and kids. I need to get to them. I focus on them and fire. The bullet hits the first on in the arm. I continue firing And am able to hit two more in the head. Josh had stopped firing and I feel him turn around to look out the doors. He fires several times and one falls to the ground. Without a word we both begin walking forward. It is awkward as we both have several weapons strapped to our backs, with backpacks and shoulder bags hanging at our sides. If our aim was bad before it was a mockery now. We wasted a lot of ammo going through those zombies.

There were seven in all and we can see more on the way. I opened the back of the Van and we through out supplies in, I kept a pistol with me, as well as the M21.

We speed off down the road with the least amount of zombies, aiming for where we thought we could get onto the freeway. More and more began pouring out of side streets and soon it was everything we could do to avoid them.

"There, there, there," Josh yells as he fires off a few rounds. "The entrance, its just up there, did you see the sign?"

I had not seen it, but am able to find the ramp from where he had pointed. I swerve sharply around a zombie that has run out in front of me, seemingly out of no where, causing Josh to fall halfway out the window he had been firing out of. I grab his belt and try to pull him in. He is screaming trying to get in with one hand, not wanting to drop his gun. I pull again and swerve to the right, hoping the momentum would bring him back in. It works.

Moments later we are out of the city and screaming down the freeway away from Reno and the infestation of zombies.

It is freezing and I am unable to sleep. Killing the zombies keeps running through my head as I shiver, pulling the blanket tighter around my body. Josh is asleep and I envy him. I hold the pistol on my lap and stare out into the night sky. There are no lights on the ground and the star lit sky peaks through the tall trees of the Sierras. We have parked for the night and while I am sure we are safe from zombies, I resign myself to no sleep and keep watch as Josh snores lightly in a deep sleep.

1 comment: