Day 53

Josh and Charlotte, early this morning, found a large van that would fit all of us. We move all of the supplies from the Hummer to the van, taking only a few minutes, and are soon on our way. In a way, I miss the Hummer. It was a good vehicle that had been through a lot. The van, stolen from an auto dealership, seemed clunky. It bounced harshly making it hard to do anything except watch the road in front of us.

The freeway is filled with cars. Not so many as to block our bath, but enough to make it slow going for a few hours. Once past Springville we were able to pick up the speed a bit, but still could not as fast as we would like.

And so, for much of the day I am resigned to sit and think and look out the window. I see some zombies wandering in fields far from the freeway. The seem to wander aimlessly and many, from what I can tell, do not ever look up from the sound of our revving engine. 

I am left thinking about the zombies and what would cause the disease. I have figured all along that the disease is bacterial, which would explain the immunity in the most easiest possible way. But what is it that kills the person and brings them back as a zombie. A brain infection? I remember learning of a zombie fungus that would kill an ant. The then zombie ant would walk mindlessly to an optimal location for the fungus to grow easily and at its best. I doubt, however, that the infection that it taking over our bodies is fungal, but it is likely that it is utilizing the same survival techniques as the fungus. That would then explain why the zombies seem to migrate, moving south. Maybe the bacteria, or whatever it is, is moving humanity south as a method.

I find the idea fascinating and talk with Josh and Dawn for sometime about it. Dawn wasn't convinced, but then again, neither am I. There is simply no way for me to know.

Some time in the early afternoon hours Dan starts his story after being asked about it once again.

"After the news of the outbreak in China the quarantined Finland. No body in or out. The borders were guarded and fortified, however, it is impossible to completely isolate a country now-a-days. And so to get out, you would have to face the wilderness areas and cross the border. I stayed, content for a little while. I think I was naive at the time, thinking this was nothing different than the H1N1 virus--swine flu--but soon grew to know that it was going to last a long time.

"About a week and a half into the quarantine I tried to get out, make a run for it across the border. I got caught. Detained for a night and then sent back into society with a tag." He held up his wrist and there was a dot on it. "Three dots and you're imprisoned for ninety days or until the quarantine is lifted. It wasn't for another two weeks that I was able to get out. I net some people while I ate alone on a street corner table. They saw the dot and that was the buy in for me. They let me join them.

"They smuggled me out in boats. I will not bore you with the details, but it was a long arduous process. I was alone with two sandwiches and a walkie talkie that ended up not working half way through for three days. . .

"Anyways. We were attacked first in England, near York. I froze when I saw the first zombie and was tackled. They got it off of me and one handed me a machete. He said to never let it leave my side. Our group was of about ten at this point and we were all Americans, accept for Bob and Rose, who were Canadian. We were determined to make it across the sea. Near the West coast we were attacked again. One got my arm. Bit it. It kept biting it. Over and over. I was so weak . . . Bob, the Canadian chopped my arm off and killed the thing. He thought it would save me from turning and I spent days waiting for the infection to take hold, but it never did. I thought Bob had saved me.

"Three of us made it back to the states in the end. Bob knew boats and so, after commandeering a large yacht (it's odd how things just sit there, how everything is free) we sailed over. I cannot describe the difficulty of this. But Bob kept us going. He pushed us and we made it in eight days--eight long days.

"For days we fought through massive amounts of zombies, hordes of zombies until I was the only one left. I realized then, after watching five of the ten get sick and change without a single bite, and the others change after having been dead for a short time that I was immune. It was the only explanation.

"It took a week to get to Mom and Dad's. I drove and walked and drove again. Not stopping for anything until I got there. But you were all gone. Finally, after two or so days I saw a flyer stating that there was food and shelter at UVU, so I went . . . and that's it."

* * *

We stop for gas in the city, Nephi, filling quickly, watching a few zombies wander down a street, not seeing us. I stare at one, a once young woman, as she wanders from one side of the street to the other. There is nothing human about her. However, there are animalistic qualities or instincts That seem to be embedded in the thing. I stand there and wonder, pumping gas.

Soon, I am back in and we are on the freeway again. The cars have built back up and so we slowly drive around them. The congestion is not as bad as before, but still annoying. I stay awake for sometime as I watch the others and the view outside. Dan is driving while Josh and Charlotte lean together in the last seat, sleeping, holding hands. I am happy for them, for Josh. I don't know how you would get through something like this without someone. Someone you can rest and lean on. Someone you can rely on. Dean and Ann sit next to each other. Both trying to sleep and both failing at it, much like I am failing at it. And so I watch out the window, look at the rocky mountains and think of better times.