Zomblog by Tw Brown Read Free Book Online

I crossed the field and made it back on to the highway. I think that explosion drew a lot of attention because the road seemed much clearer. There were stragglers here and there, but nothing I couldn’t navigate past.
    It only took a couple of hours to reach as far as I could on Highway 26. About four miles from Banks was what had been some sort of National Guard roadblock. The woods made it impossible to simply drive around, and the roadblock covered the east and west bound lanes. I would have to continue on foot.
    I had plenty of those things on my trail, coming in a mob down the highway in my wake. Also, there were some coming from in front of me. I took the only route that made sense…I made for the woods.
    Typical of this time of year, it was cold and rainy. But I had enough daylight to see by. The woods actually kept me out of the worst of the weather. A few stragglers were in the pines, but I had no trouble keeping out of their sight. Late yesterday afternoon, I reached my destination.
    In what was one of my greatest strokes of luck, I reached the edge of the clearing that surrounds the distribution complex as a team of five people came out to dispatch the thirty or so zombies that had begun to congregate at the fence. They were using a combination of axes, picks, and bats, while a couple more stood just inside the fence with rifles as cover.
    When I called out, one of them, a huge mountain-man looking sort (later he would introduce himself as Tom Langston), told me to “shut-up and run for the gate!”
    One of the riflemen signaled me to come in once I got there. Then they just ignored me until the zombies had been dealt with. The five on that detail came back in and we were hustled to what had been some management-type’s office. Everybody from outside the fence began to strip. I was told that I had to be checked for bites or scratches. Once they saw I was clean (as were the five who had been outside the fence) I was introduced to a bunch of people I don’t yet remember the names of and brought inside one of the large buildings.
    As I was introducing myself, I told about Erin and Beth. About what had happened. That was when I broke down. I couldn’t stop crying. Somebody escorted me to this small office and said something about taking my time to “get myself together.” I’ve been in here ever since. Sometimes I just cried. Sometimes I slept.
    I don’t much like sleeping.
    Too many nightmares.
    Anyways, I think I’m better. At least stable enough to go out and meet these people. I think I’ve cried myself out.
    Time to go meet my fellow fugitives.
     

Saturday, February 2
     
    This is quite a community. There are a few folks who have sorta taken charge. It reminds me of Survivor or Big Brother in that there are people who just naturally assume a leadership role. There are others who work hard at keeping the proverbial gears greased. Then, there are those who do nothing.
    Tom Langston is one of the leaders here. Of course it is all unofficial and he would be the first to deny it. But, he has a mind for organizing and coming up with ideas that further enhance our safety.
    What’s better is that he gets those things put into action ASAP!
    He says he was a big horror movie fan. Many of his ideas come with a story about which movie he is borrowing from. Today for instance…
    Today we moved every single trailer portion of the shipping truck fleet still in this complex out of the fence. We parked them as close to the outside of the fencing as we could. Meanwhile, five guys drove forklifts with stacks of wooden pallets to jam under the trailer rigs.
    Of course the sound carried and some of the zombies in the woods came out. But we had total coverage with a dispatch team. Tom said not to use guns because that sound would carry better than the trucks we used would. I don’t have any idea if that was true, but he was so convincing that nobody argued.
    He also had a group paint: “WE ARE ALIVE” on the roofs of