Day 3

1:49pm

Our supply is getting low. My husband left this morning to a distribution center down the road, and has yet to return. I can't begin to explain the worry piling inside my mind. I'm here, alone, in the cabin. It was best to leave somebody here to guard, to watch for other survivors, to protect what's ours if needed. I'll admit, I'm nervous to use the guns again. Yes, again. And I'm not talking about shooting ranges, either. Well, I suppose you can call it that.

As we headed out the door Monday, I continued to try and make phone calls. I reached my parents house. My mother was fine. My family was fine. They had a scare and the phones were disconnected. I almost cried the moment I heard their voices. But now it's been days, and we've heard nothing. If they haven't made it to the cabin, where are they? Nevermind, I'd rather not worry about too many things at once...the fear of my husband missing is grasping a hold on me enough already.

We knew where we were headed on Monday. We didn't have time to make stops. We avoided the hospitals, we avoided the banks. My husband had told me to make a list of the top ten places that seemed reasonable to go during a disaster. He then said we'll go to none of them. It made sense. We did have to make a stop, however. Not at our will, either. We were on our way to my family's cabin in the mountains, where we are now; and needed to get there quickly. As we traveled down the road, a tree branch, huge in stature, collapsed in front of us. I covered my eyes and screamed, my husband hitting the brakes.

My husband's shouting caused my eyes to fly open. We were in the road, stopped. I was half-expecting we'd be in a ditch or at least a bit smashed into the tree branch. Unfortunately, this was worse. "The gun!" He shouted, "Grab the gun!" My hands shaking again, and without thought, I grabbed the loaded shotgun. My glance toward him showed me he was already armed with the Glock. "Honey, you'll have to fire. I don't want to you think about anything else right now". I peered out the window, and froze, only for a second before my husband's words of encouragement got me back on track. From my direction, two of them were headed our way. No, four of them. These were people. Okay, so they were zombie people, but they were once people, like you and I. My husband's foot was on the gas, trying to reverse the car. The car wasn't very thrilled to do so, however. We had run over a chunk of the branch, keeping us from moving. "You'll have to shoot them. Aim for the head. Don't be afraid, they're trying to kill us."

I rolled the window down, only so far. "Now!" My husband shouted again. The first shot startled me, blinded me, and caused my ears to ring in desperation. It was a chest shot to one of them. It only caused him to twitch. I pumped the shot gun, took a deep breath this time, aimed, and fired again. My shoulder ached from the recoil, as the shot hit another in the head, this time causing it to collapse. "You're doing great, honey, don't stop," my husband said, as he continued working to reverse the car. I had always imagined zombies would be much slower than this. A loud moan escaped the voice of a female, then followed by the other two. I loaded another into the chamber, and squeezed the trigger again, watching another take it in the head and collapse. Two more. Their moans disturbed me.

My body wouldn't stop shaking, and I believed the gun would fall from my grasp. They were only getting closer.

Another shot. In the neck this time, the female. She fell to the ground, but it didn't kill her. She began making her way up. I pumped the shotgun, but I wasn't quick enough. The other one was too close. He grabbed the barrel, and I screamed, squeezing the trigger once again. This blew off his hand completely, yet it didn't stop him. He moaned loudly.

Instantly, I felt my head being slammed down and I heard another shot, but not my own. "Stay down!" My husband shouted as he continued to hold my head down, strongly. I heard him fire another round, quickly.

I was crying now, my whole body convulsing with tremors. "It's done." I heard his voice say. "I got them. You did a great job. You saved us," he told me. "Don't give up now. Stay on the lookout." With that, he pumped the gas one more time, and I felt the car slightly lift, and fall back down as we reversed our way over the branch. "Know any detours?"

I must go now, my husband has returned. Thank goodness.