Free The Zom Diary by Eddie Austin Page A

his son, and then let it be.  Besides, we’ve had our goodbyes, so just let it be.”
         “OK,” I mutter.  Maybe he has a feeling about me; that I’m not a psycho or anything.  Or, maybe any person is valuable at this point to his endeavor.  Either way, I take his advice and let it be.
         Some time passes and the stars shine bright against the deep amethyst sky.  The moon is a fingernail sliver turning slowly above us.  The embers fly, riding gusts of warm air.  I am enjoying the fire but feel it impossible to not keep looking over my shoulder.  Bryce sees what I am doing and says, “Relax.”
         “Since I was bitten, I’ve had this sense of when one of them is near.  It’s like I can feel them pushing on my mind softer when they are far away and unmistakable when they are near.  Aside from the fellow in the sack, there isn’t any zombie for maybe three or four miles from here.”
         “What!”
        “Oh, sorry.  I didn’t think to bring it up.  I assumed you’re the one who cut his head off and left it on the road?  Did you happen to see his eyes?”
         I swallow and tried to get a grasp of what he was telling me.  “No, not the sack, the other thing.”
        He raises his eyebrow at me.
         “So, the dead walk the earth and all civilization as we understand it has fallen, but you can’t believe in ESP?  Silas has it too, as well as the prophet.  I take it you met him?”
       “Yeah, the guy with the pet lady?  I could almost believe it of him.  I’ve seen things that defy explanation, and the zoms seem able to home in on us, so why not. Sure. ESP.  Can you sense them when you are sleeping?”
         He looks awkward for a moment, then, “No”.
         “Well then, we better let this burn out and get some rest.  You can have the couch.  Leave that thing outside.  Tell me about it later, but it’s not coming under my roof.”
         He nods and I turn and walk to the door.  I go in and light a lamp for him in the big room.  There is an old green army blanket on the back of the couch and a jug of water on the table, so I say goodnight, grab my pipe, and climb up the ladder.
        I pull it up by the white nylon rope and tie it off.  Maybe this is out of habit, or the inability to let go of my mistrust.  I decide against smoking, put the pipe on a beam next to my bed, and go to sleep watching the light from the kerosene lamp dance and cast shadows upon the rafters of the barn.  As I drift off, my eyes follow the lines of the rafter-beams above my bed, the web like support structure forms a pentagon shape which hangs before me, like a gate…
         In the half real world of sleep, I dream that the pentagon is alight with fire.  From each point of the shape flows forth a blazing line forming the star of a pentagram.  From the center of this, as if from a void, stretches an enormous blood-red arm, palm toward me, fingernails black and glimmering in the light of fire.  I feel pressure on my chest and, upon looking down I behold the form of a small ape-like man; black and cackling, stomping the life out of me.

Chapter 4
     
         I awaken in the morning and hear the squeak of the pump handle outside.  Bryce has a fire going and is heating water in a kettle over the fire.  He calls out when he sees me step outside.  “Good morning!”
         “Hey.”  I call back taking a seat and looking up at the clear, clear sky.  Bryce has his pack out, propped next to a chair from inside.  He rummages around and after a moment, he pulls out an old plastic peanut butter jar with some brown powder inside.
         “Know what this is?”
        “Where the hell did you find coffee?”
         My eyes are well and fully open at this point.  Next he will tell me that they are opening a pizza shop in town…That delivers.
         “Some of the guys found a mess of beans in the backroom of a Target last month.