Stories in a Lost World: Bridget (2 page)

Her skin and bones were gone up to her wrists. That's how long she'd been trying, and they were all over the back of the front door.

Fuckin' nasty.

We just had knives, but Kristy managed to get around the woman and kicked her out the front door. Booted her right in the ass. The woman fell onto the porch and laid there, moaning the way zombies do. Danielle took the opportunity to stab the woman in the back of the head a couple of times until the moans stopped.

Personally, I hate killing them unless I absolutely have to. It still feels too much like killing a person, which is awful. No thanks. I'll pass. Unfortunately, you really do have to kill them quickly. Otherwise, their squeals and moans will attract the other ones, and then you'll die.

Science.

We walked around the house. It seemed to be in pretty good shape, except for its frustrating proximity to the highway. The cupboards were practically full, so we took our fill, eating as much chili as we could and stuffing crackers and pudding and granola bars into our bags.

We all pinched our noses and I opened the fridge. I knew it would be gross. The stuff people put in fridges, like milk and meat, smell like shit when they've been rotting in place for a month, but I had to see if there was soda.

There was not.

Fuck.

We explored the rest of the house quickly, but there wasn't anything valuable except for a shotgun under the main bed. Kristy took that, as our leader, and carried it proudly. Finally: a real fucking weapon.

March 20th

Walked all day. My feet hurt, my back hurts, my face hurts. Everything sucks.

March 21st

Today we made it to another farmhouse. It was slightly more abandoned than the last one. By "slightly," I mean "completely," which means we can all sleep well tonight.

We're still east of school, east of the stupid fraternity that chased us out of our cozy house, but I suppose that's better. I suppose it's better to be away from civilization as much as possible, right?

The further you are from people, the less they can hurt you.

Danielle, Kristy, and I all explored the house. Unlike the last one, we couldn't just walk in the front door. We broke a window in the back of the house, one that led into the basement. We all kinda thought that this way, no one will notice right away that the glass is broken. Plus, it's easy to hide a ground-level break-in. We can move something, like a large rock, maybe, in front of that spot.

We slipped into the basement and used our flashlights to find the stairs. When we got to the top, we all paused, hoping beyond hope that there would be nothing there.

There wasn't.

When Kristy pushed the door open, I was so happy to be in a home that I almost cried. Seriously, this place is the epitome of home. It's cozy and perfect and it smells nice and everything is pink.

I love it.

March 22nd

We decided to stay at the farmhouse, at least for a little while. Today we took inventory of what's in the house and what we'll have to find or make if we want to keep staying. At the moment, the biggest problem is weapons. We almost never left our first house, the campus rental house. As such, as didn't accumulate weapons the way we should have. We just kinda holed away.

No more.

This house had two small guns upstairs, but there are no bullets. We'll need to find some if we plan to use those to defend the house at any time. The real concern, for me, is target practice. I haven't shot a gun in about five years. What do I know about shooting anymore? The problem with practice is that it costs bullets to practice. That's bullets we don't have. If I try to skip the practice, I could die if I miss a zombie.

Fucked either way.

The good news is that we have enough food to last us for a little while. We can eat like kings and be good for a solid week. If we ration ourselves, we'll probably be good for two. Danielle found some seeds in the garage, so she's all talking about starting a garden.

Kristy isn't sure about that and neither am I.

What are zombies attracted to?

What if the garden brings them here?

We're all a little too nervous and uncomfortable to let our guards down just yet, but I hope that things get better soon.

They have to.

March 23rd

Spent the entire day playing board games. I didn't mind. It was fun. I like Kristy and Danielle. It's been just the tree of us for so long that now we're practically like sisters. The bad thing about that is that we all know every little fault about the other ones.

Me? I'm whiny and I complain a lot. Like, a lot. I'm trying to keep it under control, but it's hard. That and my health issues. Asthma in the apocalypse? Not exactly a super fun time. What can you do, though?

Kristy is bossy as fuck. No, I don't mean she's a good leader. I mean that she's bossy. She orders everyone around all the fucking time. Part of it is my fault because I put her in a position to have to lead us. It still gets tiring. She's getting better, but a lot of times she still slips and doles out orders instead of engaging in rational conversation.

Danielle is nice. That's really all I can say about her. She's sweet, but she's almost too sweet. Like, almost a doormat sweet. She's not. At least, I don't have the impression that she is a doormat, but the potential is there. Danielle is definitely the dreamer of the group. Kristy gets things done and I drag my feet, but Danielle dreams big.

I just hope it doesn't get us all killed.

March 24th

Still at the farmhouse. What can I say about it? It's big. There is a lot of space. Until today, we'd all been sleeping together in the master bedroom, curled together like a litter of puppies, but we decided that if this thing is going to work, we'll need to get our own bedrooms.

None of us knows how long we want to stay here. I think the hardest part for me is that I feel like I'm trying to make plans in a world where plans don't matter.

It's not like I'm going to college anymore.

Yeah, I held out hope for a long time that things would get better, that they would improve, that there would be a cure, but there's not.

And somehow, I think that even if there
was
a cure, it wouldn't fix things the way that I want it to.

I will never go back to being the girl who wanted to be a teacher. I can't. That's not who I am anymore. That's not how the world is anymore.

If everything was fixed tomorrow, who would I be?

That's the question I have now and it's all I ever think about.

March 25th

Kristy went on a walk. She said it was to clear her head, but we both know it's so she can vomit in peace. She feels sick and nauseous and doesn't want to be throwing up near the house. I don't think it's because she's afraid of attracting the undead. No, it's because she doesn't want us to know how gross she is. Just kidding.

Danielle and I made her some soup over a little fire. It didn't get insanely hot, but we managed to warm the chicken and noodles so that it's at least edible. When she got back, she drank the soup and thanked us, then spent the rest of the day sleeping.

Personally, I think she's stressed beyond reason, beyond repair, even. Can you blame her? You spend your entire life working for something and then in an instant, it's gone.

And you're stuck with your two dorky roommates who follow you around all the time. Awesome.