Zomblog: The Final Entry by Tw Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

could see, and we considered skipping past, but Eric wanted a Pepsi.
    I didn’t see too many of those things to handle and decided that it couldn’t hurt. I wasn’t going to deny my travel buddy something that seemed so simple. It was when we stepped up to the rear of the trailer with the big, open cargo doors that we almost suffered a terrible loss. Eric went to kick the ice-crusted pile of snow that was kinda in the way. He didn’t expect to discover a solid center. The look on his face would’ve been funny when he tripped, if not for the zombie.
    A big hand with fingers like kielbasa sausages burst from the mound and wrapped around his ankle. If that big old trucker—or what was left of him—still had any of his lower jaw left, there would’ve been a remarkably different outcome to that encounter. The top teeth scraped Eric’s pant leg, but didn’t get through to skin or anything like that.
    I drove one of my scimitars into the side of its head and kicked it away. After catching our breath, we returned to the task we’d initially embarked on. Swinging the cargo doors the rest of the way open proved to be a huge disappointment. The roof was nothing but brown stalagtites from where the Pepsi bottles had burst and sprayed the ceiling.
    We did find a few twenty-ouncers that hadn’t exploded, but it was an unsatisfactory haul. We also salvaged some sour cream and onion chips. After our snack break, we sat there not talking about that mound incident.
    We got back on the road and passed a roadside diner that was nothing but a charred husk, but right after this dog-leg turn, we happened upon a school building. It was tiny, not even a cafeteria, and situated in a perfect place. We had a great view back the way we came for a good distance, along with a wide open look ahead.
    I don’t believe in fate, luck, or divine providence. That said, we could’ve easily kept on going and pulled up at a place a mile or two up the road. I do think that we were both still a little spooked by that snowdrift incident at the rear of the Pepsi truck. Whatever the reason, we chose this place to stop for the night.
    They came from the north. It started about an hour ago. Sam’s growling alerted us. Lit up by the setting sun, we can see them by the hundreds…maybe thousands: a horde.
     
    Thursday, February 25
     
    Got up early this morning to see the damage.
    The field that they cut across was enormous. The horde emptied into the clearing across the highway. There were four houses spaced out in this area. All of them would’ve made ideal spots to stop for the night. Only one is still standing.
    From what we can tell, they stomped straight through. However, when they reached the south end of the clearing, it narrows and eventually gives back over to the forest. It was probably like water hitting a barricade. There was a thin row of trees on the east “wall” of the clearing. That’s right, I said “was.” Perhaps it was because the ground was so wet, but several of those pines were toppled like a bulldozer had gotten to them.
    We didn’t stick around long. The trees and terrain acted as a diffuser and scattered the horde. Several pockets of them are sorta hanging out like they got lost or something. The one remaining house that is still standing is surrounded ten deep. A few houses up the road a ways have a handful swirling about. I hope there isn’t anybody trapped in any of them; not that we could do anything for them if there were.
    Then, there are some houses not in the path that the horde took. These are simply on the other side of the road. Not a single zombie is in the vicinity. This is a perfect example of their single-mindedness.
    The road here has a slight roll to it as we get closer to the big mountain. We crested a ridge on this particularly long, straight stretch. That is where we discovered ‘SE Paha Loop Drive.’ We followed it into the trees and discovered an old bed and breakfast. Thankfully, it was long since