Read Online Tamberlin's Account by Jaime Munt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jaime Munt
Tags: Zombies
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missing from the box. It wasn't even open.
Something got into the marshmallows that had been in here—maybe even Mr. Ages.
I heard him grunt when he was trying to poop this morning.
Knock on wood.
No tricks yet.
I'd love an RV—there are a couple nice looking ones here—with gas!
Three problems:
No keys
Maneuvering them between vehicles—driving them at all!
The MPG
Don't even have to think about the other problems after the first.
Am going to do one more sweep for supplies and move out.
P.S. So far nothing weird—or do I have to wait until evening?
Is it stupid? I’m actually pretty nervous.
11:50am
I couldn't leave it alone. I came across a road I knew eventually went within a mile and a half of the country road to Marie’s home.
It was eerie pulling up to a familiar place.
I didn’t really want to look at it, lest I should see : vandalism, blood, bodies or zombies. Just seeing a yard that was cared for neglected was an unignorable headline that everything had changed. I turned my back on the house to use the hood of my car to write a note to this friend I’d known for decades.
I don’t' know if she was there. I don't want to know – only if I could know they were okay.
If she's wondering, then she'll know I am.
As I was writing, I was sure I heard a voice beckon me to turn around. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. The call was strong enough that I involuntarily turned my head about three inches – despite how readily I resisted it. I used a couple bandages to hang the note on the mailbox and edged toward the car, with my back to the house.
The something called to me more urgently. It said, in a voice I really heard, “You’ll never know, unless you know.”
I closed the car door and locked them. Then I allowed myself to look toward the source of the summons. The eight black eyes of the double garage door stared at me. And terrified me.
I lost a little time then—the next thing I remember, I was turning off the dirt road and heading back to the last point of my intended path. I would never go anywhere near there again.
“I can’t!” I remember crying out to no one and everything.
Mr. Ages stared at me.
My hands shook uncontrollably on the wheel. The trembling worked up my arms and I felt it in my throat.
My friends.
My friends.
My friends.
I couldn’t hold my head steady. My vision blurred, but I was going back the way I came – I felt confident in remembering what was on the road and of being alone in it—and, at that time, even in the whole world.
I couldn’t listen to it.
I wouldn’t look.
I couldn’t look.
What if her car wasn’t in the garage?
9:26pm
I missed the state line via little back roads. I think . I don't know where I am. Car said I was heading south. I stopped to let out Mr. Ages.
And someone shot at me.
I didn't know what to do. Yell? Say, "Hey, I'm alive - don't shoot!"
If you've seen the same movies I have you'd just haul ass, like I did.
If they are bad—I hope I'm not going toward them.
If they are good... I dunno.
If they are somewhere in between—most likely really...
Okay, but they shot at me.
How many zombies travel with dogs???
Nov 1 4:04pm
Okay—in Dawn of the Dead , after the douche, prick, coward Stephen is dead and if Roger hadn't been bit, I could ride this out with them. I think they're the best group I can think of from a post-apocalyptic movie. I guess there are a couple others I wouldn't mind. The good guys in The Stand would be the best community to be with.
Do you ever ask yourself “if” questions?
Sometimes I think about those things to occupy my mind.
If I get tired of that I also entertain myself with: if I could eat anything right now, what would it be?
If I found the perfect place to make a go of it, in this situation, what would it have to have?
If I had to be stuck in a zombie apocalypse with one person living or dead would I rather it was this person or that person?
And I can do that two
Something got into the marshmallows that had been in here—maybe even Mr. Ages.
I heard him grunt when he was trying to poop this morning.
Knock on wood.
No tricks yet.
I'd love an RV—there are a couple nice looking ones here—with gas!
Three problems:
No keys
Maneuvering them between vehicles—driving them at all!
The MPG
Don't even have to think about the other problems after the first.
Am going to do one more sweep for supplies and move out.
P.S. So far nothing weird—or do I have to wait until evening?
Is it stupid? I’m actually pretty nervous.
11:50am
I couldn't leave it alone. I came across a road I knew eventually went within a mile and a half of the country road to Marie’s home.
It was eerie pulling up to a familiar place.
I didn’t really want to look at it, lest I should see : vandalism, blood, bodies or zombies. Just seeing a yard that was cared for neglected was an unignorable headline that everything had changed. I turned my back on the house to use the hood of my car to write a note to this friend I’d known for decades.
I don’t' know if she was there. I don't want to know – only if I could know they were okay.
If she's wondering, then she'll know I am.
As I was writing, I was sure I heard a voice beckon me to turn around. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. The call was strong enough that I involuntarily turned my head about three inches – despite how readily I resisted it. I used a couple bandages to hang the note on the mailbox and edged toward the car, with my back to the house.
The something called to me more urgently. It said, in a voice I really heard, “You’ll never know, unless you know.”
I closed the car door and locked them. Then I allowed myself to look toward the source of the summons. The eight black eyes of the double garage door stared at me. And terrified me.
I lost a little time then—the next thing I remember, I was turning off the dirt road and heading back to the last point of my intended path. I would never go anywhere near there again.
“I can’t!” I remember crying out to no one and everything.
Mr. Ages stared at me.
My hands shook uncontrollably on the wheel. The trembling worked up my arms and I felt it in my throat.
My friends.
My friends.
My friends.
I couldn’t hold my head steady. My vision blurred, but I was going back the way I came – I felt confident in remembering what was on the road and of being alone in it—and, at that time, even in the whole world.
I couldn’t listen to it.
I wouldn’t look.
I couldn’t look.
What if her car wasn’t in the garage?
9:26pm
I missed the state line via little back roads. I think . I don't know where I am. Car said I was heading south. I stopped to let out Mr. Ages.
And someone shot at me.
I didn't know what to do. Yell? Say, "Hey, I'm alive - don't shoot!"
If you've seen the same movies I have you'd just haul ass, like I did.
If they are bad—I hope I'm not going toward them.
If they are good... I dunno.
If they are somewhere in between—most likely really...
Okay, but they shot at me.
How many zombies travel with dogs???
Nov 1 4:04pm
Okay—in Dawn of the Dead , after the douche, prick, coward Stephen is dead and if Roger hadn't been bit, I could ride this out with them. I think they're the best group I can think of from a post-apocalyptic movie. I guess there are a couple others I wouldn't mind. The good guys in The Stand would be the best community to be with.
Do you ever ask yourself “if” questions?
Sometimes I think about those things to occupy my mind.
If I get tired of that I also entertain myself with: if I could eat anything right now, what would it be?
If I found the perfect place to make a go of it, in this situation, what would it have to have?
If I had to be stuck in a zombie apocalypse with one person living or dead would I rather it was this person or that person?
And I can do that two
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