Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Slammer

Those zombies we saw were playing possum with us. They were new breed, pretending to be slow and weak to throw us off. Bill and I had to make the choice on whether to fire at them with guns and risk drawing more of them down on us, or use our bows and maybe get killed. So I made a command decision.

I tucked Bill into the trailer, as his bad leg wouldn't have let him go anywhere, and I drew them off by running down the road like a madman.

I know, it sounds stupid and careless, but it really wasn't. We haven't survived on the road for this long by being idiots who don't plan ahead. I snagged my backpack when I left, which holds food for several days, canteens and water purification tabs, and a small battery powered transmitter that gives me about twenty minutes of cell use. More, since my solar charger is with me as well.

Would have been nice to remember my gloves, but at least I'm wearing my winter coat. It's a bit chilly.

The portable transmitter was a gift from Harlen, one I hoped never to need. It fits the plans the team and I came up with for search and rescue very well, and while I don't like having to use it, I'm happy to report that I've just been on the phone with Will and the others, who have the truck up and running. They're probably outside my hiding place right now, trying to figure out how to set me free without getting me killed. There's a little town about three miles north of where we were stranded, and the team knew to search in very specific parameters for me. Luckily the transmitter allowed me to save them time and just tell them where I was...

Hell, I might as well come out and say it. I'm in jail.

When you have a swarm of thirty undead behind you (I picked up a few on the run here) any secure location is a good location. The doors to the police station were barred and locked, the place looked like no one had been in it since The Fall began. So I dug in my pocket for one of the best survival tools in the world--shavings from the ceramic on a spark plug--and flung it at the glass double doors of the station. They shattered as if I'd put a bullet in them, and I ducked in.

The zombies were right behind me, maybe twenty feet. The cells were all open, and they were old ones. No electronic locks that I could see. Not that I had a lot of time to look. I grabbed a set of cuffs off the floor as I ran, just in case, and slipped into a cell. I threw the bars shut and locked the cuffs on the door and the stationary portion of the bars, making my own lock. Not that I needed it, as it turns out. The click I heard as I closed the thing was indeed the door lock engaging.

The zombies came into the station behind me, having been slowed by the doors a little. Guess it took them a minute to figure out how to duck through. They just crowded around the door, watching me. They didn't try to stick their hands in to grab and I wasn't stupid enough to get close enough to tempt them.

Look at me, talking in the past tense. I'm still locked in here, and they're still out there. I've had a good long time to study this little station house. There are guns here, and what looks like a good supply of ammo. I think I saw a gas pump through the back door as I ran in. Maybe there's still fuel to be had. Got to love these little old police stations, having their own gas delivered. Bless them.

Bill isn't very happy we made a plan to keep him safe without telling him. He didn't like being left behind, but a sustained attack on the truck and trailer would have led to us getting killed and the team left without a vehicle. I had to run because he couldn't, had to draw off the enemy. Done it before, will probably have to do it again one day.

I'm irritated that it took so long for the others to get the truck mobile, but apparently there's a real scarcity of giant truck tires that will fit our rig. They got there in the end. They'll get here soon if they aren't already. I just wonder how they're going to kill all these zombies with any kind of safety. Can't fire guns without risking a ricochet hitting me. Even if they manage it, don't know how this door is going to open.

I'm really hoping there's a key around this place somewhere.

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