Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s story #99 General thoughts and updates about the convoy SHTF & TEOTWAWKI

The next few days pass in relative boredom. It has been a while since I was able to write in my journal. I am not writing a daily chronological tale of events anyway. I am also getting worried about our office supplies and the future supply of paper.

The last five days have been hectic. I was able to Nguen back to the radio shack since we lost Shen. Poor Shen is getting worse. His leg constantly hurts; we lack enough pain medicine to keep him snowballed, and now he might lose the leg.

Shen’s leg is infected with the flesh eating bacteria Necrotizing Fasciitis. Now do not think I am some medical wizard to pull that name out of my ass. The only reason I know the name of the bacteria is because Doc Jamal told me. I also had him spell it for me. Doc is worried that he might not be able to take Shen’s infected leg safely without killing the poor bastard.

If Nguen’s shitty Mandarin is correct, Shen states that he would rather die than live after losing his leg at the hip. Doc says that the current conditions in a rough and crude field hospital, taking someone’s leg at the hip is far too complicated. Images from the American Civil War found in old medical books shown to me with glee by Doc and Terrance dance in my mind.

I can imagine the hell that Shen would have to endure losing his leg. Other than Shen’s medical nightmare, the little monster Thing 1 all of a week old is already rolling over and doing push-ups on his own. His brother is still a small bubbly chubby baby. The little monster eats like a fiend and howls like a scalded cat every two hours or so to be fed.

Shack and I swap with Nguen, Carol and Nikola keeping an ear on the radio sets should someone transmit something of interest. There has been little radio traffic of notable worth in the last few days.

I believe there are probably a lot of radios out there that lack power, or just living people to use them. We did receive some more medical information radio packets from the poor bastards underneath Ft. Dix. KCAP is able to infect and use the five types of blood vessels that are in the human body: arteries, arterioles, capillaries, venules and veins.

I am not positive how this latest information will help. Even Doc Jamal was a little less than overjoyed when we relayed the information to him. At the time that I was talking to Doc Jamal, he was talking with another soldier attempting to get a sling psychrometer to work.

The sling psychrometer works by whirling a pair of thermometers on a stick around getting the dew point and relative humidity in the air. Our problem is that the sling psychrometer application on the smart phones is no good as all of the phone batteries are dead. We need to find the old paper tables if we are going to use a sling psychrometer.

The sling psychrometer is marked “Property of US Forest Service.” The colonels in an attempt to locate the proper tables for the sling psychrometer, direct the Scouts to search for USFS ranger stations which might still have the old paper tables. Another might be some of the old lumber companies.

Shack is developing into quite the young man. I have to admit to a conflict in my feelings towards him. Although I am not writing a bildungsroman story, I have closely followed Shack’s growth as a man. I admit that I take some pride in how Shack behaves, but most of that was done long before my arrival in his life.

Although I will never meet Shack’s father, he must have been a wonderful man. I know that Shack misses him greatly despite the fact that he hardly ever talks about his father. It must be painful for him to talk about his father as the few times that I have attempted to steer the conversation about his father he has quickly changed the subject or ignored it.

I know that the older Rogers was a Baptist preacher before the KCAP epidemic. Shack’s father had served in the Army previously as a young man before seeking the cloth. Drafted into the Army during the KCAP pandemic, son and father went through basic, Air Borne and Ranger schools together.

Shack’s father must have been one of the few Ranger-tabbed chaplains in the US Army. Speaking of chaplains, Carol reminded me that Nikola and she are looking for a preacher to marry them. I suppose that either colonel could marry them, or they could just make a general announcement, as some of the other couples have done.

I wonder if the Adventists that we are trading with and meeting in a few days have a preacher among them. I will have to ask the colonels when I see one of them. If I see William, the colonel’s shadow, I may ask him as he might know, as well.

We learned over the last few days that the Adventist group has only a few rifles and a pair of old, double barrel shotguns. They possess no handguns as they felt those were strictly for killing someone. The irony is not lost upon me that killing someone is exactly why they need handguns now.

The Adventists weapons are lacking, as is their ammo supply. Our two groups have not managed a meeting between our leaders, but we have had a few amicable trades in the middle of the old I-531 highway not far from here. We do not possess ammo for most of the Adventist’s weapons.

We did have some ammo for the one Mosin Nagant rifle they possess and their two side by side double barrel shotguns both of which are 12 gauges. Some of the Adventists 12 gauge ammo were black powder reloads, with homemade cardboard wads sealed with candle wax.

While Shack and I were bored sitting in the radio shack alternating with Nguen, Carol and Nikola, we got talking about sex. Like most young men his age, Shack thinks about sex at some ridiculous interval rate. Inquiring as to why Shack was so adept at foreplay I learned some interesting facts about the young man.

I learned that Shack is still technically a virgin. He fooled around some with other girls as he worked his way east, but he has never had proper penetration sex. During the long quiet hours, we sit together; I learn that Shack has had a few interesting interactions with some young girls.

Shack regaled me with several tawdry tales of his earliest sexual escapades which helped pass the time. I begin to see a pattern in the ladies that Shack has fooled around with. Shack is attracted to short, petite brunettes with long hair. It is a good thing that generally I fit that description.

One area where I do not match the general description of the young girls that Shack fooled around with is that there is no way before 18; I was doing any of the things that Shack experienced. I do not believe I even knew how to spell fellatio or what it was before I was 19.

I admit that I had lived a fairly sheltered life before I joined the IDF. Thankfully by the time I graduated from high school in Israel, I had already been taking college classes for nearly two years. By summer’s end after high school graduation, I had earned my first Associate’s Degree.

I was able to defer my entry into the IDF for me to attain my Bachelor’s Degree in Foreign Relations. Thanks to my parents, I grew up speaking 10 languages at home. My father was a stickler for ensuring that all of the children were fluent in the languages he chose. Supper was always interesting as father chose the language that we would speak that evening.

With my international degree and fluency with languages, it seemed a natural fit for the IDF when I chose an intelligence billet. It was not until I graduated from the 20 month hell of the Sayeret Maglan training program that I even started getting physical with anyone. It was also during this time that I learned I was attracted equally to either sex.

Coming next week: More general updates, as well as the first face to face meeting with the Adventist survival group