Day 7

It takes several seconds for the scene to make sense. I stare at Josh, who has blood on his face, until I can regain myself. The night time makes it hard for me to see my surroundings and still, frantically, I scramble to unbuckle me seat belt. It is stuck on something.

"Josh!" I yell, hoping it will stir him. The car horn continues blaring. Someone will hear. Something will hear. I try to look in front of us to see what has happened but my vision is blurry and the night is not helping. I hear a crack.

"Josh . . ." I whisper, reaching over to shake him while still working on my buckle. Still nothing. Panic sets in and I start yanking at the buckle, panting hard and looking around frantically for . . . anything. And there, sticking slightly out of Josh's pocket is his knife that he'd gotten at the firing range. I grab it and open its blade. The seat belt is tougher than I had thought, but I got through it. Quickly, I get out of the car and run around to the drivers side. The door is jammed but I am able to open it after applying more force.

"Josh, come on," I say, urging him to make any type of movement.

I pull him out and try to gently put him on the ground. There is blood covering his face and his left arm looks broken. I shake him but there is no response. I cannot tell if he is breathing, still trying to focus my eyes and see in the eerie dark and so I put my ear to his chest.

There is a heart beat. He's just knocked out.

I take my jacket off and prop his head up. I can hear him wheezing now and it sounds harsh. I hope he didn't puncture a lung. I go back in the car and grab my pistol that had fallen to the floor at my feet. I pull back the action and then look around. We are slightly off the road and have run into a tree. The whole front of the car is smashed in and I doubt it will run again. Back on the road there is a congregation of cars stretching both ways as far as my vision can tell. (Which admittedly is not very far).

Something moves from beside me and I turn to gaze into an empty forest. I can feel my head start to throb as I try and focus my eyes better. There is shuffling somewhere nearby but I cannot find its source. With the gun pointed in front of me I slowly stand and look around. There is nothing. I try and tell myself that I am paranoid. That I am imagining it, but it doesn't help. The night will make one believe any number of things as long as there is some noise. I look at the road and at the cars. There is no movement. Again, I crouch next to Josh listening to his breathing.

"Josh," I whisper in his hear while trying to rouse him. He moans, but that is all I can get from him. From a distance I hear a wailing. A high screaming that I know comes from the zombies. It is far off, but the sound carries through the forest and cars.

"Come on, Josh, come on . . ." I slap his face slightly, and again he moans, making some movement, but I can tell he is not going to wake.  I look around frantically for something to help. There is nothing.

I hear the screams again. They are closer. I stand up and get back into the car. It is packed with our supplies, and I know that we will need to leave them behind. I grab my M21 and CZ 750, the bag of clips and Josh's M4. I hang the straps over one shoulder. I then grab a bag filled with dry provisions--MRE's, trail mix, etc.--that we had gotten from the Firing Range. I am panting and I continually hear rustling from the woods. I grab water and finally go around to the back of the van and take my bike off of its rack.

I had used it for commuting and had a tray on the back over the wheel. I drape the two packs over the tray and sling the guns over the handlebars of the road bike. It is off balance and hard to control but it will have to do. I run it up to the road and lean it against a car. I run back to where Josh lay and placed the pistol in the back of my pants.

"OK, man," I say to him, "I hope this doesn't hurt. Grabbing his left arm I pull him up and over my back so his stomach rests on my shoulder. I stand slowly, testing the weight. It is a lot, but bouncing slightly up and down I feel OK to carry him.

I walk up to where the bike is resting, wrap my left arm around Josh's legs and begin to run, holding the stem of the bike to steer it between the cars.

I am able to run for longer than I thought I'd be able to. I can see the sun cresting over the mountains and through the trees. The dawn light is dim and haunting. There is no sound for some time except for the thumping of my feet. My shoulder aches from carrying Josh and so I stop, leaning the bike against another car and slowly crouching to lay Josh back down.

As I stand up I see it, but it is far too late. The thing lunges at me. Baring its teeth it lets out a strained groan. I reach for my pistol but I am knocked down before I can grab it. My weight, and that of the zombie's, crush my hand that was trying to grab the pistol tucked into my pants. It is gnashing its teeth as I fight it off with my legs under it, and my left hand around its throat. My right, while painful, I use to swat its hands away.

I get my feet up under it and kick hard. It flips over the top of me and lands feet away from my head. It is faster than I am and gets on its hands and feet by the time I've rolled over. It screams that eerie sound and lunges again. I aim a punch but it connects too early leaving most of its momentum coming towards me. Its head hits mine and I see a flash of white and stars appear, obscuring my vision. It is crawling on top of me and I push up and fling myself on my back, crushing the ribs of the zombie as I land. Its grip loosens and I hurriedly stand. With my left hand I pull out the pistol, aim as best I can and fire. It skims its scalp. I fire again and again until there is little left of a distinguishable head.

The gun drops from my hand and I stumble back towards Josh. He is still laying there. Breathing. I grab the CZ 750 and get up onto a car, looking around. There is a sea of cars, all stopped and empty. I realize they must be those that were on the salt flats with us. They've only been here for a few days. What happened?


There is no movement.

I pick Josh up again, this time on my right shoulder and move off the road. My head is pounding and I am having a hard time keeping my eyes focused. I think I have a concussion. I needed to stay awake, but how could I?

I run with Josh and my bike with our supplies for what seems to be an eternity but what is more close to ten minutes. Fighting not to pass out or trip on the uneven ground. Finally, with the sun shining down on us, the trees surrounding our presence and no sign of the highway I lean Josh up against a large tree, lay the bike down and collapse. My eyes are open and I struggle to stay awake. But finally, I give in and allow my eyes to close and darkness to overtake me.