7/28 11:14am (1 of 2)

Made it south of the river, barely. Somebody died doing it. Here’s how it went down.

We stuffed our packs full as we dared. Dave, rumpled army rucksack, me and my old Jansport, and James with his svelte motorcycle backpack. Daisy ran around all of us the whole time, wagging her tail and begging for a treat.

Dave handed his fireax to James. James has a pitifully small pocket pistol. Four shots, .22 caliber. Even I know there’s no punch in a gun like that. When I get a chance, I need to ask him exactly what he thought was going on when he came in here. Miniature gun and a gasmask? Strange combination to be entering a medieval arena with.

The old man was on edge, and for good reason. I nearly died moving from one house to another just a few weeks ago. Now we were crossing a bridge to an unknown neighborhood inhabited by who knows what, to avoid an inferno at our back? Absolutely insane.

Dave took point with his sawed off pump. “Five shells in the tube, one in the chamber,” He told us, “and then I’m up for a reload. Gets bad enough, I’ll toss one of these,” he growled, showing us several bottles, stopped off with rags at the top. “get the hell away when I do. Fire is a fickle beast, and it’ll eat you, give it a chance.”

Daisy obediently by his side, we crept out of the yard. I jumped at every creak and whisper, not ashamed to admit. The only one who wasn’t so keyed up was James, either because his head was still discombobulated or because he had no idea what he was getting into. Probably both.

The street was unseemly quiet as we scuttled down. Sweat stained my hands, and I had to keep wiping left, then the right as we moved. Dave did his best to cover every door and alley we passed, and did a decent job, for being only one gun and one man.

We passed over the bridge without trouble. But it was soon in coming.

Just as James stepped off the bridge and onto cracked sidewalk, Daisy whined. Dave swept his gun to the right as a moaner, previously silent, emerged from a house’s shadow. “Only one of ‘em. Handle it, Mikey,” Dave hissed. I took two long steps through the swinging fence, and pierced the graying shambler’s brain with my six-spiked slugger. James, who had been shocked by the very sight of it, cried out when I brained it.

“My God! What the hell did you just do?” He yelled, all pretense at quiet completely lost.

Dave furiously hushed him, while I turned, blood throbbing through my temples. As I did, I caught sight of two more locals on the other side of the street. “Shut. The Hell. UP.” I croaked, raising my bat.

Daisy was whining to her master, who swung around his barrel at the approaching DeadEds. “Goddamnit James. Get the hell over there and take those two down.” He said, eyes flicking back and forth from the two moaners to our shocked group mate.

“Wha-what? No! You shoot them!” He yelled, still completely unaware of his own volume.

Without a moment of warning, Dave darted over to Matteson and slapped him. Hard. The DeadEds kept coming, moaning louder now that they saw three of us. As this happened, I strode toward the other side of the road, readying my bat to deal with the mulitple threats.

“What did I tell you! Damn idiot pansy! You do what I damn well say when I damn well say it or we all die? Get the fucking picture?” Dave roared, unshaven face inches from James’.

The moaners were frisky, raising their arms in an attempt to grab my arms and take a bite. The slugger broke all the fingers on the left one’s outstretched hand, but that didn’t stop it. I stepped in, bringing the bat down in a crushing blow to the head. The other, seeing an opportunity, grasped my undefended right arm. Viselike, it pulled my arm hard, crushing and bruising my forearm. I kicked it’s inside knee, which snapped with a wet thump. This of course did not stop it, but did give me the space to buck it’s grip and bring down the polished wood on it’s face, effectively neutralizing it.

James, face drained of color, watched it all happen. He then nodded, wiping from his face some of Dave’s spittle. For a moment, I stood, staring at him, corpses at my feet.

Unbeknownst to me, several goners had been watching us from the wide windows of the store I stood next to. As I stood, appetizing back completely open to them, they burst through the window. Dave saw them and realized five goners would easily overpower me. He levelled the short barrel at them, and unleashed a cloud of Double Oh lead at them.

That, I believe, is when it all went south.