Z-Risen: Outbreak

Reinforcements

04:35 hours approximate

Location: Undead Central, San Diego CA

Supplies:

The roof. The roof. The roof is surrounded by the fucking dead. We just need a fire to make the mother….you get the idea.

I’m not much for long speeches. After a while all of the words sort of run into each other and become a drone. Joel Kelly also wasn’t a fan of long speeches and beat me to it with this perfect summary: “We are so fucked.”

You’d think a Marine would have a little more dignity or some words of wisdom. If John Wayne was playing the part of a Marine at Anzio and the enemy surrounded our little group of survivors, I’m sure he’d have some powerful words for the troops. Big words about glory and how it’s a fighter’s duty to destroy the bad guys.

Our troops just lowered their heads and hid. It wasn’t hard. Since full dark we’d tried to sleep. The effort was there, but I had sand paper in my eyes from listening to the moans all night.

The house was full of dead. The garage was packed with the dead. The area around us as far as the eye could see was surrounded by the dead. So many dead it was like an ocean. They were out there in their rotted masses really stinking up the place. They groaned, moaned, and snarled. Christy lay on her side and tried to muffle them out with her hands. Craig stared back at them defiantly. That’s what a kid’s bravado is good for, right there. I had no such illusions.

“How did this mess happen?” Roz asked. She was covered in sweat and blood — not her own blood, but that of her dad and the Z’s that had chased us into the garage. I’d shot a shuffler in mid-leap and blood had splattered liberally. It was probably the single best shot I’d made in my week in the city and no one even saw it. I should get a fucking medal for that blast. I settled for being alive.

“At least we’re alive.” I said. I got a whole pat on the hand for that.

“Why don’t we sneak back into the house? Close the door. Lock it. Then we kill all the zombies. We’ll be safe then,” Christy whispered.

Girl didn’t realize that we couldn’t just take our chances like that. One bite was all it took.

“Will that work?” Craig asked and flipped one of the shufflers the bird.

“Not a chance.” I broke the bad news. “We’d probably all die trying.”

The shuffler hissed at Craig. He sniffed the air, looked at his slower moving brethren, and then put his hand in his mouth and bit off a finger.

The Z’s left him alone while he chewed on his own digit.

Craig lay back down, so I did the same. Maybe if we stayed out of sight long enough the Z’s would lose interest and wander away.

“Why do they do that?” Craig asked quietly.

“Why do they do what?”

“Act like they’re afraid of the crawly dudes.”

“The slow ones?” I asked.

“Yeah. They even act like they understand the weird ones.”

“We call them shufflers.”

“Shuffler? Like they deal cards?”

“No. On account of that shuffle step they use when they walk. It’s like a stuttering motion they can’t control. We thought they were running around on broken bones or maybe weren’t fully turned or some shit.”

“Watch your language around the kids,” Roz warned.

“Language?” I blinked.

“Doesn’t bother me, dude,” Craig said.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Seventeen.”

“Probably has worse language than me.”

“Dad was in the Navy,” Craig said and looked away.

“I’m in the Navy too. It’s cool. What did your Dad do?”

“Something with weapons systems.”

“Good for him. I bet he had air conditioning.” I thought of spending hours and hours in the hundred-degree engine room.

“Shh.” Roz shot me a look.

I sighed and patted Craig’s hand.

“Sorry, man. I hope your Dad’s okay.”

“Me too,” he said.

I sighed and slipped my logbook out of the backpack that Christy had retrieved from the house, then dug around until I found a beat up pen.

Joel had pulled his NYFD hat over his eyes and snored gently. He was so quiet I couldn’t even hear him over the moans of the dead below. How did he sleep in this living hell?

“What’s that?” Craig asked me.

“The only thing keeping me sane,” I said and set pen to paper to write about how we had escaped the base.

15:10 hours approximate

Location: Remains of San Diego Naval Base, San Diego CA

Weapons:

I’ve heard a lot of situations described as clusterfucks. I’ve used the term a number of times myself. Generally the word had a lot of meanings, but this was the best example I’d come across yet.

We’d been back on the base for a few hours and all we’d managed to do was run, hide, and shoot a bunch of people that were acting crazed. I know now it was the damn virus that caused the zombie apocalypse but I didn’t know it then. If I’d had any clue, I might have done the smart thing and jumped back into the ocean, then would’ve swam until my legs gave out. With any luck, a killer whale would choke on my sorry white ass.

We’d just run from a barricade that covered multiple streets. There were dead all over the fucking place and it seemed like every one of them had a bead on us. Joel Kelly moved out on point while Reynolds brought up the rear. I stayed in the middle and tried not to trip on anything. Joel used fancy hand signals; after a while, I thought I’d caught on and knew when to stop, when to crouch, when to crawl, and when to haul ass like I was running from a fire.

We came to another cross street that used to lead to a few fast food restaurants. Bodies on the ground. So many bodies. We crouched at the corner of a building and a street missing a signpost. The whole thing had been run over and was tangled in a heap of twisted metal that used to be car. Now that car was a burned out husk filled with bodies. Must have been a family of six. They were all dead, but still smoking. I gagged at the smell.

Joel grabbed the front of my jump suit and dragged me away.

We rounded a corner and ran smack into a band of them. They turned white eyes on us and commenced with snarling and moaning like a bunch of wild animals. Reynolds shot the nearest one in the chest and then his rifle jammed. Joel tapped him on the shoulder, so he fell back while Joel provided covering fire.

Reynolds worked his gun and then came up shooting. He moved backwards as Kelly also fell back, and then we were on the run again.

We dove into what used to be a fast food restaurant. The place was deserted and trash had been hauled out and scattered all over the floor. A bag of sesame seed buns was split open but covered in blood. I was so hungry I considered rooting around until I found one that hadn’t been splattered.

“Think they have food here?”

“Fuck if I know. Sweep the kitchen.” Joel nodded at Reynolds.

Joel went low but peeked out a window. The others had been broken out so he avoided those. I stayed next to him while Reynolds moved into the other room. He came back a few seconds later and shook his head.

Joel moved toward him but Reynolds shook his head once again.

“Shit,” Joel said and followed Reynolds.

“What?” I asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

“You really don’t,” Reynolds said and moved ahead.

“I want to go on record as saying I hate this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Quit whining and man up so we can get away from this hellhole.”

“Think the cities any better?” I asked.

“Can it be worse?”

He had a point.

We moved out of the building and slid past a small store next door. The entire front had been shot to hell. There was a pile of bodies out front and most didn’t twitch. Joel scouted and then held out his hand before crossing in front of it.

“Friendlies!” he said in a low voice. He looked back at us once and then dashed across the field of fire of whoever might be manning a gun inside.

No one shot at him, so we stayed low and followed.

We sprinted to the end of the street and then paused next to a burned out bus. It was white, but flames had turned the outside into shades of black. Soot stuck to my back when I slammed against it. Something fell out of a smashed window and grabbed my neck.

I dropped and let out a little scream of horror. Joel looked from me to the hand and smirked. I followed his eyes and got a look at my assailant. It was a hand, all right, but it was covered in blackened flesh.

“Fuck this,” I muttered.

Then the hand twitched.

I could have just leapt right out of my skin but managed to hang onto my sanity by a thread. Fingers moved, grasping at nothing, then they went still again.

We pressed on and found ourselves near an administrative building. Shapes moved behind dark windows.

The place looked familiar and I thought it might have been some kind of processing center for those shipping out to new commands.

“Be ready,” Reynolds said.

“Who’s in there?”

“Not sure,” he said. “But they probably aren’t friendly.”

We crouched behind a car and went over our weapons. Joel popped his magazine and checked it while Reynolds did the same. Joel laid out an extra mag and then came up in a crouch.

“If they rush us, shoot the first few, then we move. They aren’t the fastest things, so we should be able to make it across the street.”

“You guys move. I’ll cover,” Reynolds said.

Luckily, we didn’t have to turn the street into a bloodbath.

A pair of guys in green moved out of the building. They had guns like Joel and looked like they knew how to use them. Reynolds looked over the side of the car and then grinned. He whistled once and then put a hand in the air.

The guys snapped to and aimed guns at us. From my vantage point, looking through the remains of a blown out window, I feared they were going to start shooting and ask questions later.

Reynolds held his gun in the air and then rose slowly. Joel did the same.

“Good to see someone’s alive,” one of the guys said.

We moved on the soldiers’ position. Other guys in green filed out of the building. Joel Kelly and Reynolds nodded at them and they nodded back. They went into this weird dance where they looked each other’s gear up and down, then exchanged this and that. I saw at least two magazines swapped out for other magazines. Rounds were checked and counted out. Someone handed Kelly a pack that looked like food. He tossed it to me then took one for himself.

“You guys with the eight?” one of the other soldiers asked.

“We just got here,” Reynolds said.

We’d moved back into the building the guys had just vacated and crouched in the remains of an overturned trashcan. There were quite a few blood splatters but no bodies, for a change. Not even any parts of bodies.

“What?” One of the guys looked them over. He had steel grey eyes and looked like what an action hero should look like.

“We just got here, Gunny. We were on the McClusky before it rammed into the base.”

“I saw that. Damn shame.”

“What’s going on here?” Joel asked.

“It’d take days to tell you. Something’s been hitting cities and bases. The first we heard about it was up north around the Portland area. I guess some Black Water types brought back something besides crotch rot from the desert. At least, that’s the rumor.”

Joel stared at the man like he was looking at a ghost.

“What was it?” Reynolds asked.

“Don’t know. Rumors about some new weapon we were experimenting with.”

“Bullshit,” Joel stated. “I was over there and those guys don’t have the tech.”

“True, and don’t that make you wonder who does have the tech?”

“But what are we even talking about? This shit. All this fucking shit. It’s like a horror movie.” Joel gestured around.

“Yeah, it’s some shit. We’re getting off the base. Chain of command is stuck in limbo. Stay, fight, run, fight. We’re tired of taking orders from fifteen people so we’re getting gone. You guys want in?” Gunny looked us over. “Who’s he?”

They meant me. Did I really stick out that much?

“I’m Petty Officer First Class Creed. Jackson Creed.”

Reynolds and Kelly followed my lead and gave introductions.

“A squid? Shit.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. I’d trade all my valuable knowledge of making a ship go fast for some combat training right about fucking now,” I said, and there was a lot of truth behind those words.

“Well, you’re big and you carry a big stick. Sometimes that’s all it takes.” Gunny nodded at the wrench in my hand. “How many rounds you got?”

“I don’t know. A pocketful and one extra clip.”

“Lesson number one, squid. It’s called a magazine. A clip is what a girl puts in her hair. You a girl?”

Jesus Christ. I’d been recruited into the Marines and this was boot.

“Right. Magazine. Sure, Gunny.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” He shot me a half grin. “Cooper. Hook this guy up with some ammunition.”

Cooper was older and even bigger than me. He wore enough gear to slow down a camel. Cooper reached into a one of the many pouches that adorned his vest and pulled out a magazine. He looked at my gun and then shrugged and handed it over.

I popped the mag and found the one he’d handed over was a match.

“Here’s the drill, gents.” Gunny looked between the three of us. “We are getting the fuck out of dodge. Coronado Base is now a death trap, so we’re going to leave it behind and take our chances closer to the city. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll make up the next part, but I will come up with a plan. Got it?”

The guys all Hoo’d and wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t do a full hoo-ah.

“The plan sounds like shit.” Gunny’s eyebrows went up at my words. “But it’s a hell of a lot better than what we’ve been doing, which is kind of a circle jerk.”

“Right. You’re welcome to come up with your own brilliant tactical plan,” Gunny said.

The others chuckled. Me and my mouth. If we got off the base, these guys would probably play “string up the squid” and leave me for the dead. That’s if they didn’t feed me to a horde first.

“I got nothing,” I said.

“Great. So, if the General is leaving us in his hands, I suggest we move. Cooper and Walowitz, check the street. Lets get this show on the road.”

The two men moved out and advanced up the street. They ran to an overturned car and crouched beside it. One motioned and another team of two went. They ran to an overturned pickup truck and dropped beside it. Two others from Gunny’s group took off toward them. When all four were in place, the first two dashed toward a street corner and stuck to the side of the building while the second pair kept watch.

Movement ahead. I snapped the handgun up at the same time as the soldiers by the overturned car. Sounds to the west. Reynolds slipped out and took up position on the corner of the building, then peeked. He slipped his head back, took a couple of deep breaths and peeked again.

Reynolds ran to our position.

“Fuck load of them coming our way.”

“Now ain’t that a bitch. ‘Bout how many?” Gunny squinted into the distance.

“Can’t say. Hundred. Maybe more.”

Gunny motioned and the others followed. All told, the men plus us made eight. Eight souls that wanted to get the hell out of this area. Seven men better trained than I’d ever been. My on-the-job training had consisted of pointing a gun and shooting. It was easy, the easiest thing in the world. You just had to ignore the fact that there were people on the other end of the barrel.

Cooper split off and went with Reynolds. They rounded the corner of the building and layed down fire. Gunny motioned and we moved toward the fallen car. The two that had been there moved to the end of the street and took up position.

Our routine became one of sending out scouts, shooting whatever dead came our way, and then trying to find an alternate path.

Hundreds had been drawn to the gunfire, but we were also within sight of the base perimeter. The city proper lay out there and it was freakishly quiet.

Eerie.

Dead.

No one trotted over sidewalks. No cars zipped along streets. The navy base was a hub of activity on a slow day. If a ship were returning from a tour, the base would be packed. Now, it was a different story. No one waited at the gate. No one was checking ID’s and no one, besides us, seemed to be alive.

“I hate this,” I muttered.

“You and me both, brother.” Gunny clapped me on the back.

Then they hit us.

It was like everyone I’d just pictured in my mind on a normal day had decided to say hi. They shambled. They crawled. They dragged broken limbs. They pulled themselves along the ground with guts and appendages hanging by scraps of skin. There were so many I couldn’t see an end to the mass.

“Not good!” Joel Kelly said.

This guy was a frigging genius.

The Marines opened up on the first row and dropped a number of them. Some got tangled up on their fallen brethren and went down. We angled to the west and then made a run for it. It would actually be more appropriate to say the Marines ran and I tried to keep up. I huffed and puffed and regretted every cigarette I’d ever smoked in my life. I regretted the Thai whiskey I’d inhaled a few days ago.

There was now a mass behind us and another horde to the east. As soon as we hit one more, we’d be truly fucked.

“Movement front!” one of the guys yelled.

We were fucked.

My gut burned and I tasted acid in the back of my throat. If we didn’t rest soon, I was gonna puke. If we rested, we were dead.

Gunny yanked his gun and shot a Z between the eyes, then blew another one’s head open. I wanted his gun. It had some serious stopping power. They were only ten or fifteen feet away, but he just stood there with his legs spread and dropped two of them. I took a shot as well, but it wasn’t as neat. I just wanted to be cool. I wasn’t. I was also shaking from being so winded.

The guy I hit flinched to the side, so Gunny shot that asshole, too.

“Move!” he yelled, and his men did just that.

We ran from both herds. A couple of burned out buildings ahead could provide protection but we moved past them.

“What about those?” I huffed.

“Get trapped?” Joel looked over his shoulder to drop the news on me.

That made sense.

We sprinted for a section of fence that still stretched a few hundred feet in both directions. It had a layer of razor wire running along the top and I didn’t think any one of us were going to risk getting hung up there, feet dangling while the Z’s pulled them back down.

“Get that clear, but just enough to let a man through. We don’t want them coming through,” Gunny shouted.

Cooper and Walowitz had been on point. They hit the fence and swung packs off their shoulders. Cooper came up with a pair of pliers while Walowitz covered him. A couple of Z’s got close so he blasted them. Cooper was one cool fucker. He worked at the fence with quick snips and never lost his concentration.

The pack closed in on us from every direction.

I shot until the gun ran empty, slipped a magazine out and jammed a new one in. Then it was back to blasting. I tried to conserve ammo and take well-aimed shots, but there were just so many and they were so damn close, it was hard not to panic. When panic did set in I did my best to focus on my breathing.

“Good one,” Gunny called. He kept the pep talk coming and it helped me focus.

They pushed us toward the fence.

The Marines formed a semi-circle as they fell back.

“We’re in business!” Cooper called and slipped through the slit in the chain link fence.

The others crowded around. Panic might have hit one of the guys because he broke rank and dove through.

“Calmly, gentlemen. Christ, Michaels.”

I got a push and slithered through the new doorway. Reynolds was next and then Joel Kelly followed him. The others covered us until the Z’s were right on them. Gunny shot one in the face, kicked another one in the leg so hard it snapped, then pushed back a pair and shot one in through the throat. Blood exploded and splattered Gunny but he didn’t even blink. Two of the men weren’t so smooth and got pulled, screaming, into the mess of hands and snarling teeth.

Gunny stood his ground and fought them until his men were through. Then they poked gun barrels through the fence and shot until he could dive under the fence.

He turned, took very careful aim and shot the two men that had been under his command. They both slumped.

“Fuck!” One of the men yelled and shot until his gun ran dry. He dropped the magazine and slapped another one home so fast it made my head spin. He advanced on the fence and fired until Gunny laid a hand on him.

“Move it, people!” he ordered, and we followed toward a road filled with abandoned vehicles.

The outskirts of the base showed signs of battles. There were more bodies but most looked like civilians. We moved among them looking for supplies.

Reynolds moved to point and scouted. Joel stuck by me.

A pair of jets shot overhead. They moved toward the city at high speed and a few seconds later explosions rocked the morning air. We looked up as one and Kelly whistled.

“How bad is it?” Walowitz asked the same question that was on my mind.

“Only one way to find out, and that’s to get in the fight.”

Men nodded.

“Gunny. My wife’s family was staying at a hotel near here. About a mile that way,” he said and pointed to the northeast. “I’m going to check on them.”

“Stay put, Marine.”

“I’m not in your command. Appreciate the assist, gentlemen, but I have to know.”

No one said a word as he walked away at a fast clip.

“Gunny?” Cooper asked.

“What am I supposed to do, shoot him in the back?” He looked between the men but they didn’t say a word.

Reynolds whistled from ahead and motioned. Gunny moved out and the others followed, but they strung out and kept their eyes everywhere at once.

It was less than five minutes before we ran into a real shit storm.

We slid between buildings and empty cars. Streets covered in debris. Bodies that moved and others that lay still. We moved quickly and used shops or hotels as cover when we had to.

Gunny took us to a four lane cross street that still had a couple of moving cars; they ignored us and navigated between wrecks and abandoned vehicles.

“Let’s commandeer us a few cars,” Gunny said.

That was the best idea I’d heard all day.

“Shit, Gunny. How are we gonna navigate around all these wrecks?”

“I guess we get out and push when we have to,” Walowitz said.

“Are we Marines or Triple A? We’ll find a vehicle of sufficient size and drive over anyone that gets in our way,” Cooper said.

Gunny chuckled and nodded.

The group spread out. Joel stuck by my side while I checked out a couple of trucks. There was a huge eighteen-wheeler partially on the road and partly on the shoulder. I approached and jumped up on the ladder to see if anyone was inside. A man in a faded green t-shirt threw himself at me. He clawed at the door while I tried to stuff my stomach back down my throat.

We moved away.

Cooper and Reynolds poked inside a pair of cars but shook their heads. Cooper checked three more before finding one to his liking. It was a huge SUV that could probably seat eight comfortably. He pulled a corpse out—an elderly woman with blue hair. She was clothed in a huge dress that was more of a nightgown. When he released the body she hit the ground, but her hand grabbed his arm and she pulled herself up. Teeth clamped onto skin.

Cooper turned, eyes filled with horror. He looked at the wound and then did something I thought I could never do. He dropped his assault rifle, ripped the handgun out of his holster, put it under his chin, and pulled the trigger.

I looked away, and it was a good thing I did. From the base, the mass that had tried to attack us had somehow made it through the fence. They moved toward us, arms extended in claws, mouths snarling, teeth covered in blood.

“Move!” Gunny yelled.

We angled off the road and raced toward the city.

That’s when the second mass came upon us.

It was like we were stuck between two groups of angry football fans and we were the opposing team.

We ran.

The second horde was already on us. They got one of the guys whose name I didn’t know. He went down with a scream and a few seconds later something exploded.

Bodies flew, but it wasn’t enough to stem the tide.

Gunny palmed a grenade and tossed one to Walowitz. They both pulled pins and threw at the same time.

The effect was devastating to the front lines that didn’t even know to lift their hands or drop to the ground to protect appendages. Joel and I took shelter behind a car but popped back up. I followed his lead and didn’t deviate from doing the exact same shit he was doing. If he dropped his pants and popped a squat right there, I would have been beside him doling out the toilet paper.

Gunny led the charge with Walowitz and the other two Marines behind them. They fired, moved in, fired, and when they were close enough they drew side arms and shot until the entire front line had disintegrated.

Reynolds broke away first and dashed to our side. The others followed, but they fired as they went.

Joel took aim and blasted anyone that fell under his sights. The dead dropped like flies, but still the mass advanced. At least with the first rank down, we had created enough of a mess to hang them up.

That’s when I saw the first one.

The guy crept along the ground on all fours. He didn’t really speak, he just gibbered like he was talking to himself in a shrieking laugh. It was unnerving. The worst was when he leapt off the ground and hit one of the Marines. They both went down in a heap; the Marine got the best of the engagement, but not before having part of his throat ripped out.

“Retreat!” Gunny yelled and we hauled ass.

We hit a roadblock a hundred and fifty feet later. We came up along a side street, hung a hard left to avoid a fresh horde, and hit a location that held five or six military vehicles. No one manned them, but they made a hell of a choke point because they stretched between two buildings and blocked the entire street.

Joel leapt on top of a HUMVEE and fired while we stayed behind cover. He took out a few but they were gaining on our tired asses. I was so tired I seriously considered just becoming one of them so I wouldn’t have to be scared and exhausted any more.

I scrambled up the side of a transport and swung myself onto the roof. I’d fired my last round and hefted my wrench. The first shuffler that came after me got a face full of steel.

Walowitz and Gunny dove into a transport and shut the door. The vehicle was soon surrounded. Joel and I backed up as Gunny saluted us. A few seconds later the engine roared to life and they backed up. Gunny rolled down the window an inch and shouted at us. “Try for the park in two days at eleven PM.”

His truck came to a halt as more and more of them piled on. He shrugged, saluted again, and roared into the crowd. Gunny rolled down his window a few more inches, stuck out his arm, and pounded the side of the cab. “Come on you fuckers!” he yelled.

We didn’t wait around to see how far he got.

Reynolds and another Marine joined us as we crawled on top of trucks and then slid down the other sides. The Marine — whose name may have been Jonas — slipped and fell off the side of a truck. He cried out, but before we could get him he was covered in Z’s.

They were on all sides now as we stood in the flatbed of a truck that had been used as some kind of transport. Joel tossed his gun and picked up another. I found a handgun but didn’t pay attention to the make. I just yanked it out of an unused holster, ignoring the corpse it was attached to, and shot the first dead fuck that fell under my sights.

Reynolds kicked one in the face but she latched onto his leg and her mouth darted in to bite him. I thought the fabric of his camo gear may have protected him, but he kicked her again and backed up in horror.

“We are so screwed!” Joel said.

The rest had reached the truck. A hundred clawing hands on every side.

I don’t know if it was the stress of the dying Marines, the loss of Gunny, or just the culmination of the entire day. More than likely, it was the bite. Reynolds got this wild look in his eye and told us to get ready.

I thought he meant that we should get ready to die. Reynolds grabbed a bandolier covered in green balls and slung it around his waist. He took a couple off and handed them to Joel.

Joel Kelly took them and flipped Reynolds a questioning look, then shot a Z in the face.

Reynolds ran to the end of the flat bed and leapt like he was going to crowd-surf. His fingers worked at his belt as he went, and when he came off the truck he left behind a tinkling pile of clips.

“DOWN!” Joel yelled and pushed me to the floor.

It was the most incredible act of heroism I have ever seen. Reynolds threw himself into the maelstrom and saved us.

The blast was immense. What was left wasn’t fit to bury. It would need to be scooped up and burned.

We used the explosion as cover and ran through the fresh passageway. When a pair of the dead came around a corner, Joel blasted one in half and then threw the empty assault rifle at the other. I didn’t look, but I knew Joel was close to losing it.

Joel and I ran until I was gasping for air and shaking like a leaf. We’d left the mass behind but we were in a new part of the city, somewhere I’d never seen before.

An hour later we found the partially boarded up two-story house and founded Fortress.

05:45 hours approximate

Undead Central, San Diego CA — Roz’s Roof

That’s enough for today. It’s early morning and I’d love to get some more shuteye, but the sun is rising. One of the shufflers keeps throwing himself at the side of the garage. I wish Joel would get up and shoot the fucker between the eyes.

Craig and Christy look miserable. They’ve already eaten the few snacks they managed to get out of the house. I didn’t say anything, but I had nothing stashed in my bag except this log, a few magazines, and my wrench.

Noise to the north. I think it’s a chopper. If it comes anywhere near us, I’m giving up the hiding technique and jumping up and down like a maniac.

This is Machinist Mate First Class Jackson Creed and I am still alive.