Day 5: Turns out folks are really enjoying my journaling. Who knew keeping a diary would be such an interest? Everyone is now telling me about what happened to them during the day. Asking me to read my entries to them.
Apparently Moonbeam recalled where her aunt’s stash was and went and found a jeep. I swear that girl never sleeps. She said Beto always wanted to drive one so she tossed him the keys and told him to go for it.
Beto came back about an hour later and told us about a feral he hit on the road. Yeah! Take that you feral fuck! He showed us the scrap of mangy cloth and half of the feral’s foot that got caught in one of the bumpers. Smells bad. He said he also came across a Red Talon trader and was able to secure a .45 caliber assault rifle and an advanced suppressor. He gave me the suppressor for my M17. That was nice of him.
I decided to take Sandy out with me to investigate a radio call from an allied enclave about a wandering trader in the area. Seems he’s not into advertising and we actually have to go and find him with the general location our allies provided.
For the second time in two days I heard a radio call from someone named CLEO recommending everyone hearing the signal to immediately move to Trumbull Valley. Then a second voice follows asking us to ignore what we just heard. What is going on in Trumbull?
As we hopped in the truck and headed down the road I noted an infestation in Mama Fratelli’s. That’s right next door! Since I’ve been spending a lot of time in the gym practicing combat moves I decided to try them out. Launched a flying strike at a plague zed and hit him so hard in the chest it knocked him to the ground. Easy pickings. The second one was shambling toward us and I pushed him down easily as both of his legs were so rotten he was unbalanced. Stabbity stab stab and he was gone. A third zombie went past me trying to get to the remains of the plague zed. I tripped him from behind and he was done for. Sandy also prefers small bladed weapons and she took out three on her own. Not sure where the screamer went but the building cleared.
We climbed back in the truck and turned the corner at Station and Whitman Ave where three bloaters were standing in the road. Swerved to avoid them with no problem and heard the scream of a feral coming up behind us. Sandy and I looked at each other and decided he had to go. Slammed on the brakes and we both jumped out. I don’t know which one of us hit him first but he took two headshots and was down.
As we headed to the location we thought the trader might be, we came across a pack of ferals standing in the road. Of course I hit the gas. Two of them dove out of the way in opposite directions leaving the third momentarily confused. That was long enough for him to meet his end. The problem with the scenario became clear as we both saw the bloater laying in the road behind the feral pack I had just run through. There was nothing I could do.
We hit it.
We had to bail out of the truck while it was still going at full speed because neither Sandy or I could breathe. I hit the asphalt hard and I know something’s hurt. I think it’s that same muscle I tore earlier. Sandy landed in the grass but she’s beat up, too. Her left shoulder is dangling, clearly dislocated. Both our lungs are burning from the bloater gas and we can’t stop coughing.
Of course the other two ferals heard the commotion, saw us jumping from the truck and are now in hot pursuit. We were able to take out the first one as I sprayed four or five rounds in his direction. He was moving so fast! The second one tackled Sandy who already had the dislocated shoulder. I wanted to shoot quickly as he was clawing at her but I was afraid of hitting her. I squeezed off a round, fortune smiled, hit him in the eye socket.
The abandoned truck almost slid into a ravine and was dangling precariously from a ledge. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get it out of there. Thing looks like it’s ready to topple over. We both climbed in and fortune both frowned and smiled at the same time. Unfortunately our weight made the truck slide down toward the river below. Fortunately it never rolled and we simply slid into the water gently. It wasn’t as deep as it looked and I was able to drive us out and head toward home. The trader will have to wait another day unless someone else at home wants to go and find them. If they do, I recommend they take Moonbeam’s jeep because this truck smells like ass, or maybe I smell like ass, or maybe we both do.
Sandy decided to ride in the back to get some fresh air as her eyes and lungs were burning still. I think that was the best choice as getting her in and out of the cab with her shoulder damage would have been difficult. Poor thing. She is bruised and scratched from that feral encounter. As we were driving home I was hanging my head out the window trying to get as much air as possible. Saw a screamer standing on the side of the road and nailed him with the door. Jesus this road attracts zombies.
We were able to return home without further incident which is a good thing because we are both sick with blood plague from the bloater. Fucking bloaters, man. Fever, bloodshot eyes, thirsty and nauseated. Oh so nauseated. We’re checking into the infirmary and I’m calling that a day. Ugh.
Late edit: Beto said he had a friend named Antonio who he was chatting with over the radio. Said he was a Urologist in the Before Times and has been learning about blood plague infection. He might know how to help us. At this point I’ll take all the help I can get!
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