Driving to the Zombie Apocolypse

Last night and this morning’s dreams both started out as driving dreams. Yesterday, I was actually a passenger in R’s pickup truck, his wife was sitting between us and there were a couple of our friends in the back of the truck. We were driving away from Escondido, headed out to the coast intent on reaching the Marine base at Pendleton. Unfortunately the dream soon morphed into the tsunami dream where the first wave had all ready washed across the freeway, taking the wandering zombies with it as it withdrew. We arrived at a low spot in the road at the same time as another wall of water was approaching.

The people in the back of the truck shouted at R to “Go, go, go!” as there were zombie drivers approaching. How they could tell there were zombies driving, I don’t know. R started driving as the water rose up on the low part of the road. The truck fishtailed and R was having trouble keeping the front end, where the drive wheels were located, on the road. I opened the window into the bed area and told everyone back there to grab the end of my seat belt and to crowd up to the front. I was trying to shift as much weight to the front as possible, trying to keep us on the road as the water continued to rise.

In the distance I could see the wall of water climbing, and it was far higher that the truck. I didn’t know if we would be able to make it up to the next hill, or even if the next hill would be tall enough to protect us.

I woke up with a very full bladder.

This morning’s drive was being undertaken by myself. Little Red was on the last quarter tank of gas, and I knew I would have to fuel up soon if I was to keep going. Only trouble was, most of the gas stations were in “Zombie Territory.” I figured that I had about 120 miles left, but since I couldn’t know how clear the roads would be, it could be considerably less. The weather was getting cooler, so I needed to drive to keep warm. I had blankets and water and some food. I decided to head inland to agriculture territory, figuring the fewer people the fewer zombies. I was hopeful I could find a gas station that still had power, because putting gas in from a tiny pail on a string was a pain.

Apparently I’d all ready had to do that, as I had a memory of pulling gasoline out of an underground tank a two liter jug at a time. All the while watching for zombies. The container had pretty much melted by the time I’d finished filling up the tank. I vowed to look for some gas cans next time I stopped, even though a pair of five gallon tanks would pretty much put me in the position of tossing out other items. I hated the idea of giving up Little Red, as I was still getting over 50 miles per gallon, even on bad roads.

At the moment I was driving across a frontage road, as the freeway was clogged at many of the onramps. I would get on the freeway only when I saw a clear path to the next exit, otherwise I was trying to stay on the frontage roads. I found myself driving next to a field of ripe grain, and wondered how much I would have to harvest to be able to make any sort of bread or porridge, or beer, I supposed. I also wondered how safe it would be to stop and harvest, if there was anyone left alive out here.

I climbed up on top of my car and looked out across the fields. Nothing was moving at the farm buildings. There was no house, so I assumed it was a company farm of some sort. I could see barns, but none were open. I also could see gas pumps, so decided to drive up and risk running into unhappy people.

If the compound was occupied I would just move on, after all I had another hundred miles or so to look for resources, and gasoline. When I drove around the dusty road to the gates of the place, I could tell it was all locked up, and abandoned. There was a very slender dog in the shade of one of the buildings, he made a wheezing bark at me, and then sat down, whining. I know it was probably not a rational thing to do, but I grabbed some of my canned meat and opened it up before breaking into the place. He made no attempt to prevent me from breaking open the lock and then driving my car into the compound. I closed the gates behind me an used the car to hold them shut.

There was power, as the farm buildings had solar panels. There were no human remains, and most importantly, I didn’t see any signs of Zombies wandering around. If there were any inside the buildings I didn’t know, but wasn’t going to go looking for them. The dog, a Rottweiler or similar was grateful for his meal, and when he finished he walked over to where I was inspecting the gasoline tanks. I was trying to make sure I didn’t accidentally fill the cans I’d found with diesel, and neither of the tanks were labeled in English. I kept talking to the dog, not sure if he’d suddenly remember that he was supposed to be a guard dog. However, the dog sat at my feet while I filled up multiple tanks, watching me the whole time. After a bit his tail began to wag. He then walked over to the car with me when I carried the first two cans to Little Red. The dog stopped at the passenger door, and then stretched out in the shade of the car. I filled the tank and took both the empty can, and the part empty can back for more fuel. The dog stayed by the car.

On the next trip back to the car, I found some spare wire and used it to wire the gate shut, figuring it would keep zombies out long enough for me to get to safety. Although, if there were to be zombies at the gate, I didn’t really know where I would drive to get out of the place. As night fell I decided to camp in a generator room, where I found a trashcan full of dog food. My new friend was very happy about that. The generator room had a roof access that allowed me to get up to the barn roof, where the solar panels were located. I figured if there were zombies in the compound, the dog wouldn’t have still been alive. But if he had somehow survived zombies, we had an escape route.

I started to wonder if staying here, after making sure it was safe to do so, would be a good idea. I could harvest the grain and then store it against the winter that I knew was coming. There was no way to carry nearly enough to keep the dog and I fed for any length of time. In fact, I figured I would have to abandon a lot of tools and supplies to take the dog anywhere in the car. However I didn’t want to just abandon the animal, who I’m fairly certain was destined to starve if someone hadn’t come along.

I awoke to barking, and looked out the grimy window into the compound. The dog was standing in the yard, pointed out towards the fence, and my car. I grabbed a fire axe and stepped out to see what was going on. I expected zombies, but instead there was a pack of coyotes loping down the access road, their eyes roving the fence, looking for holes, I suspect. They ran by us, the dog having come to stand at my hip, and watched us, not afraid, but not aggressive, either.

Ad astra per technica,
FF