State of Decay✔️

Chapter 11: Spencer's Mill Veterinary Clinic

In the warm, sane light of day, the city of Spencer's Mill looked significantly less threatening. Unfortunately, it was also that much easier to see all the damage and decay. Marcus followed Alan and Sam down a dirt road leading away from the church. The same road he, Ed and Maya had driven up last night.

"Why aren't we driving?" he asked.

"Because only a dumbass drives around a city full of these things," Alan replied.

"What Alan is trying to say is that cars make noise, and the zeds like noise, so we don't want to attract any extra attention," Sam replied. "Not to mention that cars aren't exactly a renewable resources and we only have so many of them."

"Keep it down," Alan hissed.

Sam sighed, but quieted down. Marcus tried to keep a watchful eye on his surroundings as they continued along the dirt road. Either side of the path was overgrown with trees and shrubs, though it extended into a forest to the right. To the left were a few houses down a short incline. If he focused, Marcus could see some broken out windows, the occasional dead body, random debris dropped on the ground in the chaos that must have consumed the town. He didn't focus too hard. If he did, it began to make him sick.

He turned his thoughts to his new roommates...or landlords...or whatever the hell they were. Alan, he didn't trust. Besides the man's abrasive attitude and just the general fact that he was clearly a jerk, there was something there a little deeper. Something that set Marcus on edge. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it frightened him. Sam, on the other hand, seemed more straightforward. He got the feeling that being in a bad mood and short with people was just her way of dealing with the zombie apocalypse.

They reached the end of the dirt road. The road split. Left led further into the residential area (of which most of the town seemed to be), and straight led past a pair of houses, one of which had clearly still been under construction when the zombies hit. It was nothing more than a skeletal woodworking of a house.

Alan and Sam led him on dead ahead. Marcus heard a low groan come from somewhere nearby and both of them froze. He did, too, waiting. Some rustling came from the right. Marcus gripped his crowbar, waiting. A mass of bushes shifted, and then the zombie seemed to be birthed from it. Alan didn't wait for it to come to them. He rushed over to it and cracked its skull with the large red wrench he was carrying in one sure, swift hit.

"Come on," he said as the body dropped.

They kept going, straight down the outer road.

Now, he found his thoughts drifting towards the scope of the outbreak. It seemed likely that the entirety of Trumbull Valley was infected with these things. But how far did this outbreak extend? The state? The country? The whole world? Were they living in a genuine zombie apocalypse? The thought chilled him. Things that mattered more than practically anything a month ago now didn't mean shit. Bills to pay? Who cares, there's zombies outside. Don't have a job? Who cares, there's zombies walking around outside!

Survival mattered now. Resources, friendships, a place to live and defend yourself from the hordes. Marcus suddenly found himself incredibly grateful that he had no known medical conditions and didn't need glasses. He was fairly smart, fit and at least somewhat brave. He could shoot a gun, he could fight if he really had to. He was pretty well-suited to survive in this horrifying new world. But that meant a lot of people weren't.

The road they were on came to an end. To the right was the road that would ultimately terminate at Mount Tanner. They broke left, passing another house, a low row of storage units, a restaurant and a post office. Alan and Sam hadn't said a word the whole time and so far, any zombies in the area were keeping their distance. Marcus kept thinking about that last part. How many people were dead? If this was widespread, how many people?