cleaned the fish on the bow of my dinghy and cooked it over the small fire along with the can of green beans Iâd brought from Solitude . If someone were to ask me a couple years ago if I could survive long-term without a grocery store, plumbing, or electricity, Iâd have called them crazy.
The fish was outstanding and the view was unforgettable if you could push certain facts out of your mind, one being that the mainland was thick with walking corpses. There was a lot of daylight left, so I decided to take advantage of the clear blue water and bathe using the bar of lye soap Iâd traded for with five roundsof .22LR. I didnât really need it; I had boxes full of real store-bought stuff put back for a rainy day.
Bugâs retirement fund.
I donât like writing about her or Tara too much when Iâm out here. My mind starts going places and I lose focus. That will surely kill you if you let it go too far.
Clean and dry, I packed my things and clumsily loaded the tested GARMR back onto the dinghy. The unusual warmth reminded me of the GARMRâs power source. It worried me a little, but another quick scan with the Geiger put my concerns at ease. I paddled toward Solitude as she drifted slowly around her anchorage. Stowing the GARMR back on the bow, I now knew what had to be done.
Beachhead
Day 4
Sailing east, I meticulously studied my charts; Iâd do everything I could to shave any ground distance. I planned to make landfall south of Tallahassee and trek inward, looking for the tallest structure left standing. The Morse code is still transmitting, although just as faint as before.
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
The moon was absent when I tied Solitude to the aluminum docks. When given the choice, I preferred wood; it was a lot quieter underfoot. The Geiger checked good, so I wore my NOD. It was impossible to use over a gas mask. In the early days of all this, I only moved at night; that was until I was briefed on the short-range thermal vision side effects of the anomaly. Traveling at night was out of the question in the irradiated areas in and around New Orleans, as the contaminated creatures were fast and noticeably more cunning.
The familiar green glow of the NOD comforted me even though my field of vision was severely restricted. Someday, probably a few years from now, this once expensive piece of technology would die along with the last remaining lithium batteries out there, never to power on again.
But until that time came, I owned the night.
Before leaving, I topped off my gun and lubed it with a few drops of synthetic motor oil I kept on board for weapon maintenance. Running a dry M4 could lead to serious issues out here; I kept a small bottle of the oil in my pack for those miserable times my gun needed to take an unplanned saltwater swim with me. Turning tothe machine on the bow, I took one last look at the tablet through my nonassisted eye.
âCheckers, power on,â I commanded.
GARMRâs electrically actuated joints whirred into action. I watched it curiously through night vision while its legs kept balance on Solitude âs gently rocking bow. It looked almost natural . . . almost.
Scanning through the tablet video feed, I switched to IR. GARMRâs night vision illuminator was much more capable than mine. I used the virtual direction pad, slewing the machineâs head down the vast expanse of the docks to get a better look at the shore. They were out there.
Leery of an RTG leak, I checked the machine for abnormal readings. Satisfied by the Geiger output, I could feel the heat again emanating from the machine as I led it to the port side of Solitude . The GARMRâs titanium and steel hooves were shoed in some sort of honeycomb-pattern impact-resistant polymer, but they still made noise like football cleats on metal bleachers. As the GARMR boarded the docks, the sound rang out like great dinner bells.
Panicked, I reached for the carbine on my
The fish was outstanding and the view was unforgettable if you could push certain facts out of your mind, one being that the mainland was thick with walking corpses. There was a lot of daylight left, so I decided to take advantage of the clear blue water and bathe using the bar of lye soap Iâd traded for with five roundsof .22LR. I didnât really need it; I had boxes full of real store-bought stuff put back for a rainy day.
Bugâs retirement fund.
I donât like writing about her or Tara too much when Iâm out here. My mind starts going places and I lose focus. That will surely kill you if you let it go too far.
Clean and dry, I packed my things and clumsily loaded the tested GARMR back onto the dinghy. The unusual warmth reminded me of the GARMRâs power source. It worried me a little, but another quick scan with the Geiger put my concerns at ease. I paddled toward Solitude as she drifted slowly around her anchorage. Stowing the GARMR back on the bow, I now knew what had to be done.
Beachhead
Day 4
Sailing east, I meticulously studied my charts; Iâd do everything I could to shave any ground distance. I planned to make landfall south of Tallahassee and trek inward, looking for the tallest structure left standing. The Morse code is still transmitting, although just as faint as before.
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
The moon was absent when I tied Solitude to the aluminum docks. When given the choice, I preferred wood; it was a lot quieter underfoot. The Geiger checked good, so I wore my NOD. It was impossible to use over a gas mask. In the early days of all this, I only moved at night; that was until I was briefed on the short-range thermal vision side effects of the anomaly. Traveling at night was out of the question in the irradiated areas in and around New Orleans, as the contaminated creatures were fast and noticeably more cunning.
The familiar green glow of the NOD comforted me even though my field of vision was severely restricted. Someday, probably a few years from now, this once expensive piece of technology would die along with the last remaining lithium batteries out there, never to power on again.
But until that time came, I owned the night.
Before leaving, I topped off my gun and lubed it with a few drops of synthetic motor oil I kept on board for weapon maintenance. Running a dry M4 could lead to serious issues out here; I kept a small bottle of the oil in my pack for those miserable times my gun needed to take an unplanned saltwater swim with me. Turning tothe machine on the bow, I took one last look at the tablet through my nonassisted eye.
âCheckers, power on,â I commanded.
GARMRâs electrically actuated joints whirred into action. I watched it curiously through night vision while its legs kept balance on Solitude âs gently rocking bow. It looked almost natural . . . almost.
Scanning through the tablet video feed, I switched to IR. GARMRâs night vision illuminator was much more capable than mine. I used the virtual direction pad, slewing the machineâs head down the vast expanse of the docks to get a better look at the shore. They were out there.
Leery of an RTG leak, I checked the machine for abnormal readings. Satisfied by the Geiger output, I could feel the heat again emanating from the machine as I led it to the port side of Solitude . The GARMRâs titanium and steel hooves were shoed in some sort of honeycomb-pattern impact-resistant polymer, but they still made noise like football cleats on metal bleachers. As the GARMR boarded the docks, the sound rang out like great dinner bells.
Panicked, I reached for the carbine on my
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