A Dead Man's Tale

Chapter 1 (Jessica)

The motorcycle was not a typical option for transportation. The sound was a magnet for the decomposing bodies of the infected but the maneuverability was a great advantage to keep the hordes from getting too close. If the diseased victims did manage to get close then the driver would have a greater challenge without the protection of a metal body that a full seized vehicle would offer. Every decision had its pros and its cons.

The roar of a motorcycle disturbed the dead silence of a large farm. The tires kicking up dust and dirt from the unpaved roads that cut through the property. A dirt path divided the farm with a large white house and a garage on one side with the barn and a series of smaller storage buildings on the other. The driver parked the motorcycle in the center of the road, unsure of which buildings to search through first. A brief look around allowed the driver to see that there were none of the infected in the area, but with the sound of the engine it would only be a matter of time before a crowd would gather to investigate in search of flesh. With that caution in mind the driver killed the engine, its echo dying in the distance.

The driver removed the bulky helmet, it was a size too big. It was found on a scavenging trip alongside the motorcycle and no other replacements had been found. The driver's shoulder length sandy brown hair was sticking to their skin after an hour and a half in the leather lined helmet. Reaching for the portable radio in their pack the driver messaged to her home base.

"This is Jessica, calling in." Her eyes were still scanning the horizon for any approaching infected.

A voice responded but the static made it difficult to hear. "Hey, Jess. Where are you?"

"A farm, it's near Stamford, not far from Danny's Diner."

There was a stretch of silence on the other end of the line as the radio operator marked the locations.

"Found it!" the operator exclaimed. "You're the last scout to check in and you've gone the farthest...Just an F.Y.I."

"Yeah I figured. Time passes when I'm on the bike." She couldn't deny that the two wheeled vehicle gave her a sense of freedom unlike anything she experienced. "I'll just take a look around and head back."

She put the radio back into her pack and made her way to the barn in the distance. Hanging from the wide window of the hayloft, a living corpse was wildly waving at her in an attempt to grab hold. The decaying brain no longer had any awareness of the noose tied around its neck or of the height it was swinging from. From the state of decomposition the body had been hanging from the rafters for at least two months. The remaining hair that remained was a dulled charcoal black flecked with gray from age and the flaccid skin was a shade of pale ivory from the exposure to the elements. Jessica didn't bother to note any identifiable characteristics of the corpse. He was another dead man, another victim from the nameless plague that unleashed chaos around the world.

Directly underneath the swinging corpse was a backpack, but it looked flat and empty, on top of the pack was a semi-automatic handgun and a book. Jessica grabbed both. The gun was empty but she did learn that it fired .45 caliber rounds. Back at the base there was a small supply of rounds she could use for it. She had her own small .22 handgun with a soda can taped on the barrel to act as a makeshift suppressor. Jessica put the gun into her pack then leafed through the book, which was the dead man's journal. Some personal articles were tucked into the pages of the book. A loose page slipped into her hand and she scanned the words scribbled on it.

           Dear Sir or Madam,

If you are reading this message then you have stumbled upon my body, no doubt now clawing at the air in an attempt to devour you. For that, I apologize. My name is Howard W. Krautinger from Pennsylvania. As you can see I have become another victim of the disease that reanimates the dead. Death Plague, Zombie Virus, God's Will, or what ever the fuck you want to name it! I fucking got it! Since you are reading this I have two requests for you. First, prevent my corpse from harming anyone, permanently. The second request is to take this journal to my family. They went to Seattle prior to the outbreak where a survivor colony has managed to hold out against the living dead. My only hope is that it's still there and that my family is still alive.