The Minstrel Entry 9

Entry 9 (And hopefully the last)

As we had begun to pack things up, there was a radio that was heard. It was some sort of heli radio. We than began to hear muffled vocal sounds. We fixed up the wire a bit. Rod held it up to try and find a good place to hold the antenna. Than we heard it almost clear.
"Nest to Bird, Nest to Bird, whats you status on your AT? over." There was no response. Rod looked up towards Devin who was relaxing in a chair. He than signaled him to come over. Devin put his ear to the junk box. The men began to speak again. "Bird what's your status? over." More white noise came out. Finally a pilot responded.
"Nest this is Bird. We have some issues with a passenger over."
"What's the issue? over."
"He's turning into one of them slowly. Apparently he got in close contact with some undead." There as a women in the background. "Oh baby Jake please don't do this. Please sweet hear- look at me...look at me, your going to be okay. Alright, your going to be okay." I could tell what was the issue. They were screwed because the man was careless.
"Alright then bring them back as soon as possible. What's your distance? over."
"Uhh, about 38 minutes."
"Alright just bring them back as soon as possible." There were more background sounds. There was a man with some sort of English accent, he seemed to be Irish.
"Jake?" Devin said to himself. "Jake?" He repeated again. Then he snapped his fingers and ran to a desk. "Where is it? Wher- ahh here we are." He walked back to the radio area and held up a journal. It said the Jake's Entries. At the bottom there were small words that said “hope”.

“What’s that?” I asked.
“This is a journal I found not too long ago. Before I came here I was heading up North from California. There was a chopper I saw fly over me, and this book fell. The 3rd to last entries said something about needing to refuel, and might take days. Now I got here at about a day or two. So that means-” Without letting him finish John interrupted.
“That means that if they’re coming this way, we could have a chance of getting out.” As they began thinking of a plan of what to do, I grabbed the journal and read a few pages and paragraphs of it. This man went through a lot of crap. Rod was looking over my shoulder at the book, barely hanging on to the antenna. He lost about two or three people. But met a girl. Lucky guy. Oh, and he wrote something about uhh, doing her I guess. Even luckier guy. But I skipped the pages. Placing my thumb at the end of the pages as they flew threw my hands. The last entry says something about having to rest somewhere for some reason. And saying he wasn’t feeling so good. Then I remember there was some more speaking going on on the radio, but I couldn’t remember. But one thing I did remember was that the pilot said something like the zombies seemed to have been following them on foot, or that that was them coming towards us.

There were these small noises at the spring fence. The zombies were outside ready to come in to feast. “Devin get on the gun, you too Rod.” And so they did. What I remember seeing was lots of light then blood as the trail of harpooned golden rocks charged at the flesh of the unholy. John pulled me to where we were heading. He handed me a big piece of cardboard and a big white board marker. All he said to me was, “Write.” I began to write S.O.S, then he handed me another piece of cardboard. Again, S.O.S. “Shit!” is what I heard Rod say as he accidentally shot the gate’s lock. They were in. We locked the door as Devin and Rod got inside. We got our guns and cardboard. We then began to head to the window. They were at the window waiting for us. What now. Then I glanced at Rod as I scoped the room for an exit. Nothing but filth and ceiling supports. Then I fixed my eyes on Rod who was glancing back at forth at the window we were meant to exit, and the door. “Go.” He had just said.
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Just go, I’ll distract them.” It was tough to leave him as I denied the request. Then he barked it at us. We just stared at him, then he grumbled, dropped the cardboard, and headed towards the door. He opened it and shot the few zombies outside. Blood splattered everywhere. He took off his shirt, and rubbed it against him. He then dropped it at the step. I think he was trying to get them to follow his scent. Then he closed the door. Grabbed some propane tanks, placed them near the door, and sat at a bench. “You going to join me?” He said in a grumpy mood. Then we looked outside, and there were no zombies. They were all distracted and headed towards the scent of Rod. We hopped out the window. Landing on a stack of wood. As we left I heard Rod say something like, “I’ve always wanted to play the piano.”

As we were hopping over the fence, I heard the song from my dream. Moonlight Sonata, that was the song. Then as we walked up a slope on a sidewalk, I looked back one more time at Rod, who was sitting at the piano bench, aiming his gun at the propane tanks as the undead broke in. I stopped and stared. He didn’t want to do this, as he faced away from the gun and shot. The explosion was so big that it blew us back. Then we got back up. Then began to jog up the hill again. We jogged through fire flies as the smoke reached up to darkened sky from the sunset, and made the scene look dark. Then we heard a chopper. The smoke should have been enough to let the pilot know we were here. The chopper swerved side to side a bit. Then we heard a scream. And the chopper crashed into the building next to us. The top corner closest to us of the building began to crumble. We quickly rushed to the chopper to see if there were any survivors hopefully.

Pieces of rubble fell in front of us. The chopper was still in tack a bit. As we were about 30 feet away from it, it ignited in flames, then blew up. We flew back from the force. All I remember a bit after that was a blur. I smelt fire, then felt blood. I recovered about 10 seconds later. Then I looked for anyone left alive. Devin was up, staggering though, holding his left arm. But John...John was too close to the chopper. He was burnt from the waist down. All I thought was to get him out as soon as possible. I ran over to him and grabbed his arms.

As I was pulling him, I saw the bodies. There was a women, a man, and another man. They were long gone.

I pulled out John to the side walk. The zombies started chasing us again. Devin got in front. He commanded us to go.
"Get the hell out of here!" He held his Uzi in one hand and signaled us to go with the other.
"Look out!" As Devin turned his head to return fire, something from the sewers got him. We now rushed to the top of the hill. Dragging John through smoke as it crossed my path. He shot with little strength. He obviously couldn't feel his legs, or else dragging him like I died would hurt him like hell.

I felt the force of the gun as he shot. I was dragging him as quick as I could. Then decided I had enough strength to lift him on my shoulders. And so I did. He was still shooting at them, hitting some in the head. I placed my arm over his legs. It was disgusting. I could feel the clothing crumble between my fingers and the roughness of his bones as I held on tight. After a while I fell on my face from loosing my balance. My teeth were messed up from the fall. John was still shooting. I heard the click from the gun, notifying the shooter that the ammo was out. I put him down to let him reload, then began to drag him like a wounded soldier once more.

Then I felt some movement and force on him. I shot back at the zombies who were trying to eat him. At about 10 seconds from that shot I realized I was only dragging half of his body as the zombies had the legs. The organs were dangling out with a piece of the spine visible. I vomited as I ran and dropped his body. I then found a safe house. I locked myself in it. Then quickly grabbed the furniture in it. They were still getting through. Now I have nowhere to go.

This is my final writing moment. I'm looking out side, and it's raining, yet the sun is still visible. And I see something in the clouds. It is the angel. I know now what to do. I will for one last time, go up to the balcony, raise my hands and let the rain fall on them as the zombies barge in. And hopefully, just maybe, I'll be meeting Rudy, Devin, John, Knoxville, Rodderick, and whom ever left this world without me. But one last thing before I do this. The personality of these things are similar to mankind. We are both crazy and hungry for blood. We created this evil, now we all are paying for it. They're breaking in, which reminds me of a riot which I had lost a beloved friend in. This is one final note humanity: if you don't change your ways now, our children will have to face the music.

I'm walking up now...