Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s story #130 Another group marriage, coded messages, musings of Ruth #SHTF #TEOTWAWKI

Shack and I talk for a little while before drifting off to sleep. After Shack falls asleep, it takes me a little while to go back to sleep. Nestled in the warm security of his arms, it is difficult for me to remember that I am nearly 12 years older than he is.

While I have seen much more of the world, that was the old world that no longer exists. The youth of today has had to adjust rapidly to a radically different world. Many of the things that once were important today are now about as important as the study of metabolomics.

From Shack’s assessment of his father it appears that the elder Rogers, addicted to either drugs or alcohol or both, has turned into something that Shack hardly recognizes. Shack watched his father for a long time last night observing him swallowing pills, drinking alcohol and abusing female captives.

Shack’s description of his father’s actions sounds as if his father, assuming that he lost everything, sunk into despair. Shack described how when the KCAP pandemic struck his father and he had to kill his younger twin brothers, who were both nine years old at the time. The twins killed Shack’s mother.

Shack and his father caught the twins on either side of their mother in the bed she shared with his father, ripping their mother’s corpse apart with their teeth and hands. Upon Shack and his father’s entry, the twins leapt from the blood-saturated bed attacking both men. Because of their smaller size, Shack and his father were able to fend off the small zombies.

Shoving the twin zombies into the master closet and barring the door, Shack and his father quickly dressed. Arming themselves from the safe in the master bedroom, the men were fortunate that they were armed when the twins shattered the master bedroom closet’s door leaping towards the two men.

The two men dodged the first attacks of the little infected monsters but ultimately came to the decision that they had to kill the infected brothers. Despite numerous bullets to the body which twisted and spun the small monsters, it did not kill them.

No one knew then that most importantly, the amygdala of the infected brain has to be destroyed. We know now that barring destruction of the amygdala, the brain stem has to be severed otherwise the infected remains mobile. A bullet to the brain, just like in the movies has to destroy the majority of the brain.

The usual sniper tactic of aiming for the spot just underneath the nose tends to vaporize the brain blasting it out the back of the head in a spray of blood, bone chips and hair. Barring destruction of either the brain stem or the amygdala, destroying the medulla oblongata tends to incapacitate the infected.

Shack and his father knew none of that information at the time. Shack did not know how many rounds of ammo his father and he wasted until they learned that only a shot to the brain, destroying it, is the only sure way of stopping the infected.

After killing the twins, the men reloaded their weapons just as the shredded corpse of Shack’s mother started dragging itself across the blood sodden sheets. This was the first time that Shack observed that the infected can turn into a zombie with the celerity of a lightning strike.

Despite the danger to himself and Shack’ incessant pleading, Shack’s father was unable to shoot his wife, the mother of his children. Shack’s father scooted across the floor as fast as he could until his back hit the bedroom wall.

The infected woman crawled across the floor towards Shack’s father. When she was just about to bite his father, who was frozen by horror, Shack placed one well-aimed 9mm hollow point bullet between his mother’s eyes ending her misery.

I have heard the rest of the story before of how the two men fled west, and how they became separated. I know that Shack assumed his father was dead, just as his father must have assumed that Shack was also dead. Left unsaid was the question of what to do about Shack’s father.

I woke earlier than I would have liked. I quietly dress, leaving snoring Shack and Honey resting until it is time to rise for tonight’s radio vigil. Wandering to the new combination kitchen and dining hall cinder block house, I grabbed a cup of decent blackberry leaf tea.

Sitting in the warm dining hall, I observe some of Brenda’s gatherers carrying five gallon buckets of mushrooms. I overhear one of the gatherers mention that he found a good amount of Dryad’s saddle mushrooms. He mentions that a decent thick paper might be made from some of the older specimens that are not really fit to eat.

The gatherers drop their bounty off in the kitchen and wander out. I remain sitting for a while longer, until it is time to rouse Shack and Honey. Walking across the compound yard, I notice another hand-fasting ceremony proceeding in front of the frame of what eventually will be the chapel.

The five men and three women join together in a large communal marriage. Rain is central in the group of women with Adela and another woman that I do not know flanking her. The five men are arranged behind the three women. Two of the men I believe are Russian judging by their weaponry and dress.

One of the women observing the ceremony mutters that Rain is marrying three of the men likely to have fathered her child. I overhear one of the older men mutter that the group is a Heinlein-like group marriage.

Not sure what he means, but I am surprised by the inclusion of Adela in the group. Apparently I am not the only one surprised by Adela’s inclusion as one of the men remarks to another about her inclusion. Another man voices the opinion that Adela is ensuring her place within the Adventist’s company by marrying into a group.

Another man makes a wise crack that Adela’s possession of a pussy is enough for her inclusion into almost any group. Some quiet laughter follows his remark. After the ceremony ends, the crowd dissipates quickly.

Entering our sleeping tent, one of the few remaining tents on the farm, I note that Honey is already awake. While tying her boots Honey smiles at me. I smile back wondering if perhaps I am not sending the poor child mixed messages.

I still have avoided talking with either Honey or Shack about what happened the other evening between Honey and I. Gently shaking Shack awake I kiss him lightly on the lips. While Shack dresses I summarize the group marriage ceremony for him.

After I finish my narrative he shrugs, muttering that with more men than women, something is likely to change. I know that Shack and I as well as Carol and Nikola have received offers and suggestions to no longer be exclusive with our bed partners.

So far none of us have opted for an open or group sleeping arrangement. Although I feel guilty about my involvement with Honey, I am not the one who sought her out in a sexual way. I was never into the whole polyamory thing no matter how popular it might have been at one time.

I have always practiced serial monogamy. Just because there is a zombie apocalypse, it does not cause me to suddenly spread my legs for every stiff dick in the camp. Shack, Honey and I cross the farm-yard walking to the dining hall. We will relieve Carol and Nikola on the day shift after we eat.

I wonder if Carol and Nikola intercepted any more code transmissions. I am still wondering who is sending the coded messages.