Created By Lee
Road Map Of My Own Personal Hell
I probably shouldn't of been sober for this.
After a drunken rage filled night and alcohol induced coma due to the horrible trip I've been having so far, I finally dragged myself out of the gutter and decided to get back on task.
Which was a mistake. As usual.
It was utterly depressing to look at this map. So I make a note to burn it later. Or sob uncontrollably into and soak it with my desperate tears of sadness. Depending on how much more 'fun' I have during the rest of the road trip.
As you can see we haven't really made a lot of progress, only about twenty percent.
I had a curious thought though while I looked at the map though. The east and west coasts are intact for the most with only a few areas blasted to bits. The middle of the country on the other hand is a radioactive wasteland. Now maybe it's just me, but I don't understand why the President of the United States decided to nuke a bunch of corn fields into dust. Maybe they were the source of the zombie virus? Evil mutant plant monsters? Possibly!
But fuck if I care.
Speaking of the bucket of bolts we call home, I really need to do something to keep it from falling apart on us. I clean myself up a bit and wash the bile taste out of my mouth, and mosey over towards the auto shop. The air is thick with engine oil and the mechanic looks like he has never showered, but after some digging around in the garage I found an old tool set the owner was willing to sell to me cheap.
And by cheap I mean he took all my money. But at least we'll be able to keep better care of the Clements-mobile.
AND THEN IT EXPLODED!
Actually, no it didn't. But I wouldn't of been surprised if it did. Anyway, we pile into the car and leave the city behind us.
As time passed it was actually starting to be a peaceful trip traveling through the country side taking in the apocalyptic sights.
That is until sparks started to shoot out from under the back of the car.
I swerved off to the side of the road before the wagon caught fire and jumped out, kneeling down to take a look underneath. Welp, seems like one of the straps holding the muffler on broke and we shredded the thing as it bounced against the pavement. It was a quick fix though with the new tools we bought and the spare muffler in the back.
Now then, time to-
Well, get into the back of the wagon Gregg. I don't want you spreading your germs with the rest of the crew cause there is no way in hell I am taking care of a car filled with sickly bags of organs. Though maybe we can get a little entertainment from this if Gregg start hallucinating. That would be fun to watch.
Oddly enough right after that Gregg found some money hiding in his pants. I did not want to touch it though seeing as he is currently plague riddled, so I told him he could just hang on to it for now.
Oh look! Fields, fences, and barns! Maybe we can find some cows. I like cows.
To eat. With my teeth.
Not. What idiot would even think about taking that job?
Screw that. I walk over to the market and with a little haggling, get a deal on a couple boxes of ammo.
It's pretty much slim pickings after that without much else being sold, so I head back over to the vehicle. Looks like the crew is still all in one piece. Oh hooray. But as I pack away the bullets, I start to notice we are a bit low on supplies. Guess I'll have to do some scavenging on the outskirts of the settlement for some.
I notice on the way out to the surrounding ruins that those living here put out a little sign they use to let people know how big the zombie population is at the moment.
It currently says 'deadly'. Of course.
I knock over the sign and continue on my way. Fucking sign can kiss my ass. There isn't even that many zombies out here. I wonder what the hell they even mean by deadly. Maybe those saps can't shoot straight or something.
IS THAT A ZOMBIE BEAR??!?!?
Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
Bullets don't hurt it! I shot it in the face and it just kept coming! Why the hell wouldn't they write 'FUCKING ZOMBIE BEAR' on the god damn sign! Heeeeeeelp meeeee! It wants to eat my honey!
Christ. Well I managed to get away from the bear without it eating my legs. Which is good. Because I like my legs attached to my body. And uneaten.
I carried the broken sign back into the settlement, going to the over to the first person I could find and beat them with it while shouting my position on what should be written on the sign. It was pretty therapeutic.
I dropped the bloodied post and stormed back to the wagon, pushing everyone back in and pulling out of town, glad to be rid of it.
I think everything is really starting to get to me. Not that random acts of violent was a rare thing for me, but the urge to stomp in some face is high at the moment. Fucking apocalypse. I used to be such a people person.
But seeing as the Clements-mobile was for the most part a hulk of rusting metal on four bad tires, I wasn't too surprised as I watched a posse of motorcycle show up in my rear view window and gain on us.
As the first biker came up along side of us I rolled down my window, flashed him a bright smile, and wave my hand slowly and told him that "This was not the station wagon he was looking for."
At that point there was much screaming in the car and attempting to duck for cover, though there wasn't much to be had. I was also attempting to get a hold of the rifle, but seeing as the majority of my focus was being used to keep us on the road and trying not to get shot, it just wasn't happening.
By a happy accident though as I was searching for the rifle, I drifted and slammed the side of the wagon into the biker that had opened fire on us, causing me to swerve for a moment, then flip and tumble into a ball of blood, metal, sparks, and gore.
It was pretty awesome.
To be honest though, I felt pretty dumb that I hadn't of thought of that in the first place and was wasting time trying to dig up the gun in the middle of a bunch of man apes freaking the fuck out in the car.
After that I was like a kid in a very bloody candy store, weaving the wagon back and forth, smashing into the bikers and sending them skidding and rolling all over the pavement. Soon enough most of them were broken and dead, with the rest cutting their loses and abandoning the chase.
I was actually a little sad when it was over. It was great for working out some of my frustration.
That of which quickly elevated again. Not to long after we had run off the bikers it started to rain, which made it a very pleasant trip with the majority of it leaking in through the bullets holes in our ceiling. We did find some tasty fruit along the side of the road when we stopped to bucket some of the water out of the wagon.
We drove for a little while later until I couldn't stand sitting in a soaking wet car that smelled awful any longer and pulled over to make camp. I told the guys to do their best at drying the thing out and patching up the hole while I went on a scavenging run. As I walked away I expected to come back to the wagon on fire and/or them all being dead.
Admittedly at this point, either thought probably would have made me happy.
I managed to collect quite a lot of supplies along with killing many zombies to get them. Again I was haunted by the random bags of money in the forest, foretelling the coming of a horde of corpses as soon as I got near them. But even with that, I pressed on. And to be honest, I got greedy, spending too much time in one spot gathering items. I say this because sure enough, mothering fucking Smokey the Undead Bear came charging out of the trees at me. I wasn't lucky enough to get away with out a scratch this time either with the thing tackling me to the ground and causing me to lose some of my canned food and scrap metal. I was about to smack it in the face though and confuse it long enough as it's rotting snout fell to the ground from the damage to get back to my feet. I threw a jar of what turned out to be pickles at it that shattered against it's head and sprayed pickle juice on me, then ran for my life, losing it on my way back to the vehicle.
God damn it. I fucking hate pickles.
I refused to explain will I smelled like putrid flesh and pickles to the rest of the group and just crawled into a sleeping bag. The guys followed suit with them also getting some rest. After a feel hours I yawned and got up, kicking the others with a grumble to wake them. Looks like it was a good idea to lie down for a nap too, seeing as Gregg no longer had a fever. With that, we piled everything back into the car and left, heading for our destination.
Things were looking up and I was even in a better mood as the sky came out, giving us clear skies. I was even able to do a little more supply gathering without incident as well.