11 March

11 Mar

The last few days for Jenny have been touch and go. She has run a high fever and there’s not a lot we can do about that other than try to keep her as comfortable as possible. Adam hasn’t left her side, and he tells me she had a moment of lucidity where she looked at him and smiled, before another wave of pain sent her back into her own personal hell.

For my part, I wallowed in my own self pity for a while. Why did I take the kids out on a mission into the zombie-filled world? What was I thinking arming them with firearms and not expecting accidents? How did I possibly think I could protect an entire train load of woman and children?

Adam doesn’t appear to have blamed me for her losing most of her lower leg. He somehow just sees it as a natural progression from having mince meat for a leg, to having a stump for a leg. He isn’t aware of the fact that I was responsible for decapitating that limb. I’m glad. I think his feelings are strong enough that he might somehow resent what I have done.

It was a bit unfortunate that the mission we had taken the kids on was quite an important one – we had run out of food and needed to see what we could find in the township. With Jenny’s accident, we didn’t manage to complete this task, and a few days later things were getting even more dire. We had to go out again if we were to keep our strength up.

This time we took a small team. Adam wanted to come along, and somehow I really wanted him to get back on that bike again, but for my own fears’ sake I asked him to stay behind and keep an eye on Jenny. He looked torn, but agreed his time was best spent looking after the girl who spends 90% of her time in some form or other of sleep.

The raid was a quick in and out. We went through back yards of the cottages in the small country town we were in looking for fruit trees or any form of vegetation which appeared edible. One tumbledown place appeared to have signs of recent habitation, so we steered clear of that place and kept moving. In the end we netted a decent load of tiny, sour apples which we can cook down into something, a backpack full of a large, soft leafed plant which somebody assured me was tasty, and most importantly, some willow bark which could be used to make a mild painkiller for Jenny. We had enough food for a couple of days, so we all scurried back to the train and got on the move again.

It was time to sit down with the adults and come up with a plan of attack. We couldn’t last forever on this train, and the likelihood of finding diesel was becoming more and more unlikely.

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