Tag Archives: Roadkill

16th April

Back in the day there was talk of a camp over in France that had survived. I’ve read back in this diary and seen I wrote about it some time back. From time to time I find a power source – usually a store with batteries, or a generator I can get going without too much need of mechanical assistance.

When this happens, the first thing I do is get a radio going and scan around the airwaves for anything other than the hiss of static. One time I found a ham radio which once belonged to some enthusiast and after much faffing about and far more time spent in one place than Adam or I were comfortable with, got the thing going. I tried talking on it and spun around to random places on the dial and tried some more. Nothing. I even thought about leaving it running with a recorded message looping over and over, but we’d already spent too long there getting the thing going in the first place. Besides, I don’t know what I’d have to say over and over again that would be of much interest to anybody out there listening.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, so the long and short of all this is that there hasn’t been any evidence that the Frogs made it either. They’re probably still out there for all I know, but they’re an entire English Channel away, and besides, Adam and I don’t speak French. Oui?

Oh, and another rumour that was going around before our camp was wiped out was that there was some kind of research lab up North. So every summer Adam and I make a pilgrimage up this way to search around for it. If it wasn’t for this hunt I’d much prefer to remain down South where the summer is a bit warmer, and not so wet. But the up side is that there are far less zombies around due to the lower initial population.

So we break camp each morning, pack our meagre belongings into knapsacks and follow the roads Northwards. We stay off the road itself, preferring to remain in the trees (if there are any) or behind hedges and things, anything really as we feel too exposed out on those roads. We keep the road within eyesight and just trudge along – mainly through empty farmland and knee-high grass. The slovs have long-since eaten any cattle and livestock from the farms.

We had a bit of a coup the other day when we came across some long white poly-tunnels. They were hothouses, but not being see-through to let in sunlight I was a bit baffled what they could be used for. That was until I opened one and found it to be a mushroom farm. The mushrooms had been growing wild and self seeding (or is it spooring?) ever since. So we had a good feed of those, taking as many as we could carry, and I marked it on my raggedy map to come back to on our way back down for the Southward winter migration.

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2nd August

Well, we made it, in case you hadn’t guessed. That was hell on Earth though. It was like some kind of surreal video game.

The convoy came barrelling out of the camp like a runaway locomotive. The Slovs didn’t take too kindly to their prey escaping and came flooding out of the towns like locusts, running out on to the road and lurching at us from all sides. The 50 cals (big ass machineguns) on the back of each humvee blasted them to paste and the trucks rolled right over anything that got in the way. For my part, I took the odd pot-shot out the back of the covered truck I was sitting in, but don’t think I hit much. The fuel tankers bore the worst of it, not being armed and not having the wheels to squish bodies that easily. Still, they made it through intact. One of the humvees near the back lost its gunner to a Slov that managed to climb up on top and haul him out. Hope the poor sod had the forethought to bite a bullet before they turned him into an afternoon picnic.

So, like I say, we got here in the end. Not much to report once we were past the first couple of townships hosting the snotty conventions. After that it was plain sailing until we got to the small airport in Cornwall. By the time we got here the gunships and troops from the ‘choppers that had set out that morning had secured the area and the civvies were making themselves at home in the airport sheds (not really a terminal as it is military, but keeps the rain off).

So here we are. A couple of missions out to the neighbouring houses to ensure there were no surprises out there for us and we hunkered down for the night, ready to start making plans for our new home tomorrow. Bet those Slovs are pissed they didn’t strike earlier.

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2 Apr

Did I say a tank the other day? Well I got hold of something nearly as good.

Found an abandoned army truck with the keys still in it. The army guy, presumably the guy who was supposed to drive it back to wherever they buggered off to, was still limping around. Seems he must have got himself bitten and the others had left him behind. He must have been all of about 18 years old if that. Uniform looked too big for him. Blood down his right leg. Snot crusted up all over his face.

I jumped in his truck and abandoned him too. Left him just like his mates had.

Anyway, I’ve got this big ol’ diesel truck. The tires are about five feet high and this thing rolls over those road blocks like speed bumps. Seat’s a bit more comfortable than the BMW’s one too with no springs up my crack, but nowhere near as quiet. Still, got myself a decent set of wheels now and really making progress.

Even mowed down a Slov that walked out in front of me. Darn idiot just stepped out and got a face full of grill. Truck barely noticed the bump and in the rear view mirrors I could see he stayed down too. Not that long ago that would have freaked the hell out of me. Today, it actually felt kind of good.

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