The alarm went off immediately with honking, flashing lights, and a loud, steady siren. The effect on the crowd below was electric. Most of them surrounded the van and started rocking and shaking it. A few spotted me in the window. They crowded around below, stretching their arms toward me, looks of hatred in their glazed eyes.
So far, so good. I rushed back down into the yard. I didn’t have much time. Between the gunshot and the alarm, all the monsters in a one-mile radius would be drawn to this area in minutes. It would become a hot spot. I scrambled down the ladder like a monkey back into my yard. When I put weight on my poor ankle, a stabbing pain shot up my leg all the way to my eyes. For a moment everything went white and I almost passed out. No time to stop. I went in my house and upstairs to my bedroom to take a quick look.
I sighed with relief—my plan was working. Three of the mutants on my street were shambling toward the van. That blaring noise drew them like moths to a flame. For some reason, the last creature left on my street decided to cross the embankment at the end of the street. He’d probably fall, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t close enough to stop me from getting to my car.
Breathing hard, I ran to the foyer, slung the backpack on my back, and crossed the speargun and the small bag over my chest. Then I knocked down the wooden posts that braced the gate and poked my head out. The coast was clear. For the second time in a month, I ventured outside. Only this time, I was setting off on a journey, and I didn’t know if I’d survive.
Clutching Lucullus’s carrier and the Glock, I crossed the road slowly, heading for my car, keys dangling from my wrist. I grabbed the keys and pressed the release button. My first mistake. With a double beep and a flashing light, my car opened, but that got the attention of the creatures on all sides. They turned and headed right for me. Shit. I had to move fast. I opened the driver’s door and threw the backpack in the backseat with so much force that the bag flew open and some of my gear fell out. Out of habit, I went around the car to the passenger side to settle Lucullus in his seat.
My second mistake. As I came around the car, I saw a man in his twenties with long hair and goatee. He had on a filthy, torn black shirt and was missing both legs below the knees. I wondered how he’d lost them. He was lying on the ground, right behind the car. I don’t know when he crawled there or how long he’d been waiting, but he startled me. I took a step back, but he still managed to grab my ankle (my good one, thank God) and sink his teeth in.
It all happened so fast. I stepped back so fast he couldn’t get a good grip on my ankle. Plus my wetsuit was too thick and pliable for his bite to pierce it. He did leave visible tooth marks in the fabric. With disgust mixed with pure terror, I dropped Lucullus’ carrier and grabbed the gun with both hands. I aimed right at his head, less than three feet away, and fired.
I’m no expert marksman, but I couldn’t miss at that distance. I was really nervous, so I shot him in the head several times. It was a gruesome sight! I still shudder at the memory. It’s not like in the movies. A bullet doesn’t make a small hole; it opens a gaping hole. Blood clots, bits of brain, and bone fragments flew everywhere.
Trembling, I leaned on the car, trying to catch my breath, but time was running out. The rest of the creatures were less than thirty yards away, approaching very, very fast. I grabbed Lucullus’s carrier off the ground and tossed it in the car. The poor guy meowed uncontrollably, scared to death. Before I got into the driver’s seat, I aimed at the things coming from the main street and fired. My third mistake. I didn’t have a clue how to shoot a gun, even at just thirty yards. All I did was empty the clip and make even more noise. Well, that was the least of my concerns. Every monster in the town must’ve heard the racket I was making.
I tossed the empty gun to the floor of the car and jumped behind the wheel. When I turned the key, the Astra coughed a couple of times, then started up. My blood ran cold. It hadn’t been started up in several days. For a moment I thought it was going to stall—then I’d be screwed for sure. It’s a good thing Opels are tough. Nothing fancy, but tough. I put it in first and drove toward the end of the street. I swerved to keep from hitting three of those things (I’ve prosecuted drunk drivers, so I know what a human body can do to a windshield and chassis upon impact) and turned on to the main street. The sight blew me away: a tide of nonhumans, hundreds of them, coming from downtown.
From the other side, there came several dozens more, eager for prey. I only had one way out—a country road at an intersection about twenty yards away. I floored it, made the turn, and—
ENTRY 48
February 9, 3:09 p.m.
As I was writing yesterday, with Lucullus in my lap, I heard a noise on the ground floor of our strange shelter. I climbed down the stairs with my stomach in knots, gun in hand. I looked all around but didn’t find anything. False alarm. Maybe stress and exhaustion are starting to play tricks on me. Or maybe I’m hallucinating. Or worse—battle fatigue.
Back to my story. When I was in the car at the intersection of my street, the situation was not encouraging. Hundreds of those things were coming from downtown with that strange gait, deceptively slow looking but really fast, taking up the entire street. It was the grisliest sight you can imagine.
For the love of God! All those bodies—with wounds and amputations, covered in blood, pale, that awful look in their eyes—headed for my car, with a bloodlust, a longing to catch me. Damn it! You have to see a walking corpse in person to understand how terrifying it is. The sight of hundreds of them trying to catch you would make even the most laid-back person’s hair stand on end.
The situation was no better at the other end of the street. There were fewer, but too many for me to drive through them without hitting one. If the crash didn’t kill me, those things would. I only had one way out: the country road.
I live in an area that’s been developed relatively recently. There are still some narrow country roads that wind through old farms, though they were being transformed into streets with buildings or town houses like mine. I knew there was one of those roads straight ahead. I didn’t see any of those things on it, so it was my only choice.
I floored it and turned on to the smaller road, bouncing over a huge pothole. In the rearview mirror, I could see that a mob had gathered and was following me. To my horror, I realized that the engine noise would attract dozens of these creatures anywhere I went. All I could do was drive so fast they couldn’t catch me, and they’d lose my trail. Sounds easy in theory. Fucking hard in practice.
That road was not exactly a highway. It was wide enough for one car. In places, its surface was just a bed of rocks and huge potholes. On top of that, I didn’t know where it led. If it was a dead end, I was in serious trouble. I drove slowly, about fifteen miles an hour. I had to stop often and maneuver around a pothole, so those things never lost sight of me. Lucullus meowed plaintively in his carrier with each jarring bounce the Astra made. I was terrified and knew just how he felt.
I gripped the wheel really tight. The car lurched along. Once I heard a terrible creaking sound coming from the motor. That didn’t bode well. I drove too fast through an especially narrow point and left both mirrors and the rear bumper lodged between two stone walls. I didn’t give a shit. I had to get out of there no matter the cost.
A moment later, I ended up on a wider country road and had no idea how. I braked hard, throwing up a cloud of dust. There was nothing in sight. Not a soul, living or dead. I could see Pontevedra off in the distance, sitting on the banks of the Lérez River, silent, unchanging…dead. Here and there, columns of smoke rose from burning embers. I stared at long black scars where entire streets had burned to the ground.