August 25, 2013
Journal,
It's been two weeks since we lost Boyd. We've kept on the move, only stopping to eat and rest. I'd almost forgotten how hard life on the road was. Never enough rest, constant hunger. Jayda was noticeably thinner. She insisted most days that she wasn't hungry. What little food we persuaded her to take was in turn snuck to Ollie or Ella. I noticed but said nothing, as stubborn as she was, it was pointless to talk to her about it.
We had to start towards Gonzales before heading north. It added a lot of time to our trip but we didn't have a boat to make it over Lake Pontchartrain, even if we had, we couldn't leave the horses.
From Gonzales, we finally started North. First hitting Denham Springs, Zachary, Slaughter (how fitting), Gloster...on and on we went. Some days were better, most were increasingly worse.
Just two days ago we came across, what we thought was, another survivor. A small girl, she looked to be about 8. From a distance we saw her lying in the middle of the deserted highway. She stayed quiet while we called out to her, only the occasional twitch to let us know she was alive.
I ran ahead of the group but slowed halfway between them and the girl. A breeze glided past bringing with it the stench of death. I looked nervously around, hand on my machete, as I searched for any nearby undead. Seeing none, I took a few more steps in the girls direction, finally taking in her appearance.
Her dress was tattered and torn, covered in blood. From my viewpoint I could just make out a long, deep gash along her left arm. It was covered in puss, festering. The skin around it was shredded and an angry red. Oh Lord, please let it be something other than a bite. I finally got within swinging distance. The rattling, soft moans and smell of the undead told me what, in the back of my mind, I already knew.
"Sorry." I whispered. She snapped her head in my direction, her black eyes meeting mine. I took a deep breath as she tried, unsuccessfully, to stand. Her body was paper thin, emaciated. She was too weak to do more than flail her arms in my direction. I raised my blade and swung it down, easily cutting through the softened, rotting flesh of her neck. She stilled instantly, her now blank gaze staring straight through me.
We found quite a few more of those monsters in similar positions. Emaciated, weak, starving. Those who could still move were more desperate than ever to get at us. One even walked straight into a small river, to reach us on the opposite bank and we hurried away, not waiting around to see if zombies could swim.
Today we were nearing St. Louis. It would be the first of our extended pit stops. We would stay a few days, scout out any survivors, food, supplies, anything we could use. Once such a large, busy city, we were sure to find something. Whether it was a huge amount of undead or other survivors, only time would tell.
Now I wish we'd have walked right past it.
It was our second day here, we'd found an abandoned werehouse to stay in and searched out all possible exits, blocking all but two, before setting out in groups to scavenge.
Jayda and I along with Ella set out in one group, Kara and Carrie in another, leaving Bre and Ollie in the werehouse to keep watch.
Jayda and I started up the street, ducking into all restaurants, shops and homes we came across. Each of us carried a small handgun along with a few extra rounds and our weapons of choice.
We came up mostly empty handed, only a few cans of food, rolls of gauze and a bottle of ibuprofen between us. We stopped in an alleyway to plan where to go next. There was only a bit of daylight left and the air was quickly growing colder. Jayda was shivering and I was about to call it quits for the day, much to Jayda's dismay, when she held up a hand, silencing me before I'd even begun.
