Do you really want to know? Chapter 2

I didn't really want to know. I shot my daughter, Annie, between the eyes as a kindness. Her body would no longer do things that would have repulsed her in life. The kindness of my intention did not lessen my sorrow. Now I am running from a herd of zombies. I do not look back as that would slow me down. They sounded like they were getting closer. Probably because sobbing makes it hard to run. I saw an exit door on the back wall. I know if I tried to use it and it didn't open, I would lose the last race I ever ran in life. I made the mistake that teenagers make in horror films and went up the stairs. The second floor wasn't a full floor. It was a row of offices and some storage space with a railing that let you look down on the activity below. I knew running into an office would be a dead end, literally. I ran to the rail, grabbed it and jumped over while hanging on.

As my new found memories predicted, the zombies on my heels went over the rail as well. I held on as long as I could but with bodies landing on my hands and sliding toward the concrete floor I lost my grip. I grabbed my head with both arms, trying to protect it. I landed on the pile with a wet thump and a bunch of cracks. I immediately rolled off the pile. Two bodies hit me as I did so but as I was moving, they were glancing blows and I was able to keep rolling. I thought of the smart ass kids that would answer the question, “If everyone else jumped off of a bridge, would you?” with “Sure, if I could go last.” They're not wrong.

I got to my feet and limped to the front door. I grabbed my bat on the way out. Some of the zombies were starting to stand up but they don't seem interested in me any more. I limped out of the warehouse and saw about fifteen scattered zombies. I assume these were the furthest away to be drawn to the gun shot noise so nothing attracted them into the building when they arrived. The adrenaline from falling into a pile of bodies that was trying to eat me, helped get my emotions in check. My breath was still ragged and my emotional pain seemed worse than my physical pain. The rest of the sobbing would come later.

The scattered zombies did not pursue me. I probably smelled like them from falling in the pile of the ones that splattered against the concrete floor. My gait was similar because everything hurt. I was slowly limping. I would run if needed but I have no idea how fast or far I could run. I felt like I had reached the end of my ability to survive. The zombies appearing to believe I was one of them just seemed to prove that death was not far behind.

I walked to a nearby hotel. I had searched this place before so I knew there was nothing left by way of supplies. I went to the pool. The water looked kind of gross. With no one maintaining reservoirs I figured this was safer than what would come out of shower. This had chlorine in it at some point. I dropped my bag and bat and dove in the water. I floated on the top. I don't know how long I floated there. I got out of the pool, took off my shirt and looked at the gunshot wound. I washed it as well as I could with some drinking water. I put on the other outfit and threw out the clothes I was wearing. I'm sure I can find more.

I went back to my old apartment. It's funny, I had searched the other buildings in this block multiple times but I never entered this one, despite the fact the I was sleeping in the dumpster in front of it. I could see someone had ransacked the place. The front door was broken off the hinges. There was no food left in here. There were some clothes strewn about the bedroom floor. I moved the fridge to block the front door. It wouldn't stop someone intent on getting in but it should make enough noise to keep them from surprising me. I moved the kitchen table into my bedroom. I used the table and bureau to blockade entry into the bedroom. I laid on my bed, for the first time in months and cried myself to sleep

In stayed in bed for about three days other than getting up to relieve myself. As I wasn't eating and drinking much, I didn't have to get out of bed often. It just came to me as an epiphany, I'm not dying, I need to get up and try to live. I started to scrounge for supplies again. I brought home wood, nails and other things I could use to fortify my apartment. I put plywood over the bedroom windows that led to the fire escape. I put hinges on the bottom of the plywood. I secured the plywood with large barrel locks at the top of each one. Ir wouldn't be hard for someone to break in but I need to open the plywood quickly if this is the only avenue of escape. It was the only time I went into Annie's room. When I finished I flew into a rage and broke the four wooden kitchen chairs. I woke up later on the kitchen floor, I rehung the front door and my bedroom door. I still used the fridge to reinforce the front door and the table and bureau to reinforce the bedroom door. I gathered more clothes and my closet starting looking like a normal closet again.

In my former life, I sold cars. I was doing well but wanted to increase my earning potential. I heard my wife but didn't listen when she told me that I was making enough money I needed to spend time at home. I would promise to do things with her and Annie and fail because I stayed late at the dealership. Sometimes I would tell them I was going in for an hour on a day off but they were not fooled, they knew I would be there all day. So Gwen divorced me and we agreed I wasn't home enough to raise Annie, so she had custody. It was an amicable divorce. We still loved each other but we knew that I could not curb my ambition. She needed someone that could put family first. It's funny, after sleeping in a dumpster for months, that car salesman seems like a completely different person

In my closet I had a shoe box with ten thousand dollars in 20 dollar bills. Ironically it was for a catastrophe like this that closed the banks. I had it piled under shoe boxes that actually held shoes. Many of the shoes were gone but the money was just dumped on the floor like they wanted to see if there was anything they could use in the box. Out of curiosity, I counted it and put it back in the box. It was all there. A souvenir of my old life.

I can't help but wonder that if I didn't have Annie for the weekend, would she still be alive? I wondered how Gwen was doing and if she would forgive me for Annie's death. I decided tomorrow I should go to Gwen's apartment and see if I can find her. I can't do it now, I need to lay down.

The next day I went to Gwen's apartment. It had been cleaned out like most other places. I didn't see any bodies or blood so she may be okay. If she is okay she must have been forced to leave. Her jewelry box and photo albums were still here. I packed them in a rolling suitcase that I found in her closet. I wrote her a note.

Gwen,

I came to look for you. I took your jewelry and photo albums for safe keeping. If you want them back, just come to my place.

David

I hung it on the fridge with a magnet. It seemed like the first normal thing I've done in a long time.

I searched the rest of the building. The upper floors seemed to be ignored by scavengers as there were a number of zombies in here. I suppose the scavengers may not have been successful and became zombies. I fought some of them and then took refuge in Gwen's apartment. Using her apartment as a base, I spent a couple of weeks fighting zombies until it seemed like I fought them all. I found canned food and gallons of water. I stored in the closet in Gwen's bedroom. I took the door knob off the closet door so I could take her hutch from the living room and use it to hide the door,.

During the two weeks I spent in this building, I did not see another living person. Gwen probably will not turn up at my door. If I ever want to see her again, I'm going to have to find her.