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Mechanical Failure, part V

May 16, 2013

~continued~

The noise bothered me a lot at first. I thought I was going to go crazy with all the moaning. I used to get annoyed by the neighborhood dogs when they barked too much and the cars that would drive down the street with their radios blasting. What I wouldn’t give to hear those sounds again. Now I wear earplugs when the noise gets to me, though only when I’m in the attic where I know I’m safe. I wouldn’t dare do it anywhere else.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about clearing out my neighborhood. I drove around it the other day to see just how many walls I would have to build to close it off. If there were other survivors, it might be worth blocking off the whole neighborhood. For just me, I only need a big enough area so I don’t have to see, hear or smell the dead all the time. Four walls would take care of the problem; one at the top and bottom of my street and the street behind me. That would give me some breathing space. I figure if I could bring over a semi or two with a long trailer, I could block off the streets long enough to build the wall, though the dead might be able to crawl under the trailer. I’ll have to think about the best way to do this, especially since I’ve never driven a semi and have no idea if I could do it. I don’t think I’ll add a gate, since I couldn’t guarantee that it would be secure enough. I’ll just build good solid walls and keep my truck outside them. I can climb over to get to it when I need it.

Once the walls are done, I’ll have to do some zombie hunting. I have a whole lot of ammo and I haven’t even started to raid houses yet so I’m sure I’ll find more. I don’t like killing the infected. I don’t like being anywhere near them but I want them gone and I’m the only one that’s around to do it. I really hate hauling the bodies to the desert to burn them because it requires actually touching them. I’m also always afraid I’ll look in my rearview mirror and find one looking back at me from the bed of the truck, though I’m pretty careful to make sure they’re completely dead before loading them up. I keep thinking there has to be a better way to dispose of the bodies. Some of these guys are heavy and I’m pretty small. I’m strong for a woman, but a 250 pound rotting corpse can get pretty heavy, not to mention just plain gross. I don’t use my truck to haul the bodies since there’s no easy way to clean it out. I found a junker with keys in it and it runs pretty well, so I use a rope and a ramp to pull them into the back of it, but it’s a little tricky. I park the junker behind my truck and then set up the ramp so that that I can drag the bodies into the bed of the old truck. I have to run a rope from my bumper all the way to where the body is lying at the base of the ramp. The tricky part is when I pull my truck forward, I have to go perfectly straight so the rope runs over the other truck and doesn’t move off to the side. When that happens, the body usually falls off the ramp, but I’ve gotten this down to a science.

The biggest problem is that it takes time to do this and the dead don’t give me a lot of breathing room. I’m lucky to load one body before I have to lead the dead away again. It takes hours to take a whole truckload of bodies to the desert. Sometimes I give up and just drag them behind the truck, one at a time, though that uses a lot of gas.

One good thing about my new life is that I’m not ever bored. I never realized just how good I had it before, with a washer and dryer and grocery store. I wash my clothes by hand now and hang them in the back yard over the garden. I try to cook from scratch as much as possible because I want to become self-sufficient. I even converted my neighbor’s yard into a garden and planted some cool weather crops over there. Getting over the walls to water the plants used to be a real pain, but I finally got smart and built some stiles, using ladders on each side of the wall and a platform on top to connect them. When the zombies see me go over the wall, they go nuts, so I try to do it fast. Eventually they forget about me again. I’m sure that keeping a garden will be much easier when I get to Oregon.

 ~to be continued~

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