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Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s Story #204 On The Road Going North Somewhere Above Warm Beach, WA #TEOTWAWKI #SHTF #WROL

March 25, 2018

We toss our garbage out the windows with the exception of the heavy brown plastic MRE bags and the cardboard sleeves. Heavy plastic bags have many uses and make great trade items as they are a valuable commodity. The brown cardboard sleeves we save for fire starter in our tent stove.

We pass a bullet riddled sign which once said ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’ but someone had graffiti’d out the ‘prose-‘ to make it read ‘…will be electrocuted.’

Later we pass a burnt out homemade armored car with four crispy critters sitting in it. The snow plow shoved the burnt armored car out-of-the-way jamming it against the guard rail on the right hand side.

Unfortunately that put the wrecked armored car on my side and I got a good look at the horror fire leaves in living human flesh. The way the burnt bodies lie indicates that they were trying to get out of the vehicle when the flames killed them.

I have a low-level of tolerance for people who lie or violate the trust of others which I view as acts of spiritual theft. I hope that Shack did not purposefully hide his history with Dolcent. I know that I am a woman who over thinks and overcompensates.

Listening to music CDs in a car is something I thought I would never do again but I did not plan on the music streaming services shutting off.

Shack suddenly asks, “Was Jimmie Hendrix gay?”

“Not that I know of why,” I reply.

“Why would he sing a song, ‘Excuse me while I kiss this guy?’ ”

I am not sure at first if Shack is attempting to be funny or if he is serious. Looking at his face I see that he is serious. I explain what the old Jimmy Hendrix song meant. I explain kissing the sky and how it was pot smoking etiquette. I get a bunch of blank looks from the kids in the truck.

“Ruth have you ever done pot.” Shack asks.

Glaring at Shack I reply, “Yes pot and other natural drugs are legal in Israel. A lover was fond of smoking drugs. I tried marijuana and hashish and did not particularly like either one. Amy and I were not allowed to smoke pot as we had to pass random piss tests. How about you guys? Anyone other than Monster ever try pot.”

Dolcent and Honey shake their heads no. Shack mumbles something.

“What Shack I could not hear you.”

“Uh … yeah I did it once and regretted it Ruth.”

Oh … what happened,” I ask concerned despite my anger with him.

“I smoked a couple of joints with my friend Jimmy he swiped from his parent’s supply. That nosy bitch Mrs. Baxter saw us and told my parents. Dad’s anger was not nearly as bad as the look of disappointment on my mother’s face. The real cherry on top was on Sunday when I got dragged in the middle of the whole church who laid hands on me and prayed for my soul. Talk about fucking embarrassing. Jimmy and I got suspended for a week from school. I had to read the bible and pray all day, while Jimmy played video games and smoked even more pot. His stepfather showed him how to properly roll a joint while his mother was at work.”

After Shack’s stunning story the truck falls quiet. Other than the music playing softly the rest of the morning passes uneventfully.

Lunch is mystery potted meat mixed with UHT mayonnaise with leaves of fresh sorrel, wild parsley or wild spinach. Your choice of how you want to eat your lunch. You can eat it from your canteen cup with a brown MRE spoon or spread it on stale survival crackers.

The runners dash through the parked idling convoy dropping MREs, snacks and drinks. I snag two cans of MGD from the runner and get our food refills.

I choose to eat my lunch spread on stale pilot survival crackers topped with a few fresh leaves of wild spinach. I do not like parsley and did not find the taste of the sorrel all that pleasant either. Popping the first can of beer while sitting on the curb beside the idling Dodge truck I eat my lunch in silence.

Finish my lunch I begin refilling the snack duffel bag in the truck while drinking my second can of warm beer. I make sure that the new inventory sheet tracks MREs as well as guns, ammo and grenades. It was a herculean task keeping every scrap of paper from going in a fire.

Shack comes over and stands beside me. After a few moments of silence Shack speaks. “Will you tell me now why you are mad at me?”

“Shack I am mad not because you and Dolcent fucked that was before you and I were together. I am mad, no I am furious because you did not tell me about it. When Dolcent joined the convoy you should have told me right then that you had been with her. You hid it from me lying by omission. Give me some space go find something to do.”

The crew of my truck eats in silence until the convoy resumes travel north. Over the radio we hear that the Scouts found some small bottles of liquor flavoring and some black market cognac. The liquor flavoring is a welcome addition to the convoy’s booze.

Several bottles of cheap rotgut vodka and perhaps some of the moonshine will benefit from a judicious application of the liquor flavorings. I wonder what flavors the Scouts found. Our precious stills produce some of the roughest alcohol I have ever gagged down.

We plow though some debris left in the wake of the snow plow bouncing all of us around the cab of the truck. Monster bumps his head on the underside of the dash and says a very un-childlike curse word. Honey smacks her head into the roof only her incredible reflexes kept her from falling into Dolcent’s lap.

“Shack what the fuck.”

“Sorry Ruth I didn’t see that shit until it went under the truck.”

I turn the music off. “Listen all of you if you hear anything underneath the truck such as a dragging noise or something wrapped around the drive line.”

We ride in silence for a while straining our ears for any mechanical trouble with the truck. Unearthly pale hand erupts through the beer window grabbing Dolcent by the hair. The hand yanks a screaming Dolcent against the rear window. Dolcent’s head smacks into the open beer window as the infected tries to yank her outside.

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