I taped the bear to a spear, loaded it in the speargun, and aimed at the house at the end of the street, the one closest to the intersection. My idea was to nail the bear to the wood paneling that completely covered that house’s upper floor. It would make a lot of noise and get those things’ attention, giving me time to deal with the soldier as he passed by my door. A simple plan. A really shitty plan—a thousand things could go wrong. But it was all I had.
I took a deep breath, turned the toy on, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The spear took off like a flash, but the bear weighed too much and pulled the spear down. Instead of sticking into the wood, it hit the edge of the wall with a thud and fell into the trough on the ground that channels the rain away from the house. For a moment there was no sound. Just when I thought the plan I’d worked so hard on was a bust, I heard the cymbals clanging in the gutter. Laurita’s bear hadn’t let me down.
That sound electrified those creatures. They turned toward the sound and started moving in its direction. I had to hurry. I flew down the stairs and opened the front door, headed for the steel gate, and quietly pulled it open. It turned silently on its hinges (thank God I’d greased them three weeks ago). For the first time in days, I stepped out on to the street.
The mutants had all moved past my front door. Glancing to my left, I could see the backs of those creatures as they plodded slowly toward the trough and the sound. The soldier was the last in line, just a few yards away, with his back to me. My eyes darting in every direction, I loaded a spear in fifteen seconds. A record for me! I raised the gun and aimed. Less than three yards away. At that distance, I couldn’t miss. If God still cares about this doomed human race, I hope he has forgiven me for what I did. But my life was at stake.
I squeezed the trigger. The spear took off with a faint hum and pierced the back of the soldier’s skull. He stopped in his tracks and collapsed with a dull thud. I rushed over to the body. He seemed to be dead dead now, but I couldn’t be too careful. I laid the speargun and the umbrella on the ground and started to wrestle with the loops of his backpack. Blood clots on the clasps prevented me from loosening the straps. Sweat was pouring down my back. I looked over and saw that one of those things had stuck its arm into the trough and was feeling around for the source of the sound. In moments, they’d grab it and tear it apart. Then I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Something must have caught the attention of the woman with the crushed hip, because she turned in my direction. Had she heard me, smelled me? I don’t know, but she saw me.
With that strange gait, she walked toward me, slowly because she was dragging one leg. Her balance was pretty shot. I only had a few seconds. I struggled clumsily to load another spear in the gun. Sweat rolled into my eyes as I pulled back the rubber sling. Four yards. I finally got everything set. Three yards. I raised the gun and aimed at the woman’s head. Two yards. I fired.
The spear hit the woman hard. She stopped and fell forward like a sack. But the situation was deteriorating by the minute. One of the monsters had grabbed the bear and was shaking it. He’d managed to empty out its batteries, and its cymbals were silent now. The sound of the woman falling made everyone look in my direction. I had to hurry. Time was running out.
I grasped the soldier’s body by the leg and started dragging it toward my open front gate, toward salvation. There was no time to loosen the clasps. I had to drag the body and the backpack with me. As I neared the gate, another one of those things suddenly came around a parked car. Shit. I hadn’t seen that guy before. The speargun was hanging from my shoulder, but I didn’t have time to load another spear. I let go of the soldier for a moment and steadied the umbrella shaft with both hands. With all my might, I struck the creature’s temple with the ivory handle. I don’t know if I killed it, but I do know the bone in its left temple cracked and it collapsed on the ground. I dropped the umbrella, grabbed the soldier’s body, and made it through my front gate, slamming it behind me, just in time. They were just a few yards away.
I left the soldier’s body in front of the front door and threw up. I’ve been drinking for nearly twenty-four hours. I’m drunk. Now these things know I’m here. But I’m alive. And if you’re alive, you can fight to live another day.
ENTRY 37
January 29, 5:14 p.m.
If things keep on like this, I’ll go crazy. They’ve been pounding nonstop on my front gate for hours. I can hear them no matter where I am in the house. It’s horrible. And all that moaning! Jesus Christ! They’re destroying my nerves. I’ve been drinking too much, I know, but I don’t know what else to do.
Miguel, my neighbor, isn’t any help. Instead he’s a pain in the ass. He’s hung up on the idea that we should head to the marina, get his boat, and sail somewhere else. But he doesn’t have the nerve to do it alone. He’s driving me crazy with his constant complaining. He’s insufferable.
I tried to get him to see things clearly, but he won’t listen. The roads are either cut off or blocked by abandoned cars, accidents, collapsed bridges. It’s insane to think about the trip as if everything were normal. Anything can happen. And the consequences could be fatal. You have to plan things out if you’re going to survive.
Tonight I got up the courage to climb up to my attic. It’s a small space under the roof, barely more than a closet. I haven’t been up there for two years because it’s full of my wife’s stuff. The day after her funeral, my sister and her boyfriend put all her things up there. Until three weeks ago, when the technician installed the solar panels, no one had been up there. There’s dust on everything. Over the musty smell, I can still detect a familiar scent—her perfume, which still permeates her clothes. My heart shrank, and I collapsed on an old couch with tears streaming down my face. I’ve been crying like a baby for hours, holding her old sweater. I miss her so much. Thank God she doesn’t have to witness all this.
After a while I calmed down. Something’s still broken inside me; I mourned for a while and vented. The stress I’ve been under is brutal. Taking refuge up here for a few hours was a good idea.
The technician’s footprints in the dust went from the trapdoor to below the skylight. There were some bits of wire and a plastic bag of leftover screws. The remains of the installation. Silent witness that someone did his job what seems like a million years ago. I wonder what became of that guy. Maybe he’s one of those things wandering around.
I opened the skylight and let in some cold air. I tied myself to some buttresses and climbed very carefully onto the roof. The last thing I needed was to break my leg! Next to the skylight is a flat surface you can sit on. The roof slopes down from there and is covered by the iridescent solar panels. It’s about a twenty-foot drop to the ground, where these things have tirelessly massed in front of my gate. Falling is definitely not a good option.
A few new creatures have arrived, drawn by the noise made by the things congregated at my door. Broken Hip’s body is lying in a heap in the middle of the road. There’s no trace of the other guy. The thump on the head I gave him mustn’t have been enough to send him back to hell. Too bad.
Normally I had a spectacular view of the city at night. Now I was amazed at how completely dark it was. Most nights I could see thousands of lights, but tonight there was utter blackness. The electricity was definitely off. And they sure weren’t planning to send a team in to fix it. I lit a cigarette and thought things over.