July 3

What to say about the last 40 hours, or so....? I held a man, as he died in my arms, I ran like a bitch through the backroom of a grocery store and I secured us some 'trade' with the most powerful member of the Parkwood coalition. I won't be able to get this all down in one post, too much happened. And besides, I always try to keep my posts mid-length, in case the internet suddenly goes out, or the power dies.

The beginning...

The only way, I could think of, to get over to the Save-More, as I was directed by the note, to do, was to layer myself with clothing, enough to be bite proof, and hike it across the Zombielot like a roadrunner in heat. So I did just that, I covered myself with suits and pants and sports jackets and, on top, a thick leather jacket that looked as if it could protect me from even the gnarliest of teeth.

Bryndis had already gone up the heating duct and over the rainbow, for all we knew, so it was just Selma to wish me good luck. Beth was still in a change room, though, we were beginning to hear a lot from her lately. She was in there crying and moaning and, before I left, it sounded as if she were standing there, repeatedly, hitting her head against the wall.

Selma stood by the back door, her eastern European accent so thick that there was no possible way I could understand anything she said. "Vu gu na cm ack sun!" Or, at least, that's how I translated it. In my head it sounded more like, "Get food and don't bring back Zombies!"

I had to look through the peep hole, in the door, to see if there was anything undead walking around out there, Selma being too short to do so. I looked at her and I nodded. She yanked open the door and began pushing me out. I had though I was ready for it, the mad sprint across the Zombielot, but if my brain was up with the plan, my body wasn't. Her small, sub-one-hundred pound, body was pushing at my, two-hundred-plus frame, trying to get me outside, so she could close the door again. My feet weren't moving, though. We sat there for a few seconds, her pushing, and me pushing back, until we began grunting at each other. My hands were on the door frame, so her efforts, truly, were in vain, but, for a small European chick, she was pretty strong, probably from pushing those plows in the Ukraine.

It wasn't until Trix poked her head around the buildings corner, ahead of us, that the struggle became frantic. Now, for sure, I didn't want to go outside, but since Selma didn't want to be eaten, like a human strudel, her efforts tripled. Trix held the position, head poked around the corner, almost like she were a bird, stalking a worm. Her eyes were focused on us, as if she was trying to figure out what she was seeing. Then, in a burst of recognition, her whole body spasmed and she turned the corner and began to run towards us.

Now, FYI, our back door opens out into a small alcove, with only enough room for trucks to back up and drop off stock. There is, fortuitously, a cardboard recycle bin. Suddenly, Selma's adrenaline peaked, and she shoved me so hard that I fell forward. If not for all the clothing I was wearing, I'm sure I would have broken something. Before I could get up, I heard the back door slam shut behind me and the deadbolt slide home. Ahead of me, I could see Trix lumbering in my direction. She was trying to run, but her legs were coming up too high, like a member of a marching band, and then descending too fast. Her un-coordination would be my Saviour.

The layers of clothing made it difficult to get up. The strangest things come into your head at the strangest times. As I was fumbling to get up, feeling almost as clumsy as the Zombie coming towards me, I thought of that movie, "A Christmas Story", and the kid bundled up for winter, trying to get away from the bully. He was me and I was him.

I managed, however, to get my hands under me and push, slowly I got to my knees and then I was on my feet. Just in time for Trix and I to have a show down....

I feigned left and then right, while she stood still. Her arms were out, similar to how you would try to catch a stray dog, or something. Her mouth was moving, gnawing at the air, in her head she was already eating me, I could see it in her eyes.

I made for the recycle bin, thinking that a safe haven could be found there. My hands were on top of the green bin and I began to pull myself up. But, what do I see inside? Paulo eating that screaming chick from earlier that day. She looked as if she had already made the conversion from human to Zombie but he was eating anyway. Enough soft tissue was missing that she couldn't struggle much. She was cognizant, in her head, it seemed, from the look on her face, she was perfectly aware of being munched on, but her body was missing enough muscle and structure, to do anything about it.

I was about to abort my dive into the dumpster, now that I knew it was occupied, when Trix had me from behind, the layers of my clothing providing a more than adequate handle.

Hmmm, what's that noise????

To be continued, I just heard something in the heating duct.