we are crashing in tonight was empty when we arrived.
No sights or sounds since that noise that we are both certain was a human scream the other night. Not a single wandering zombie up here. I can see where this area made for a great location to run to when this whole thing started. The only drawbacks are the weather—which could be as lethal…if not moreso than zombies—and lack of readily available food. I do not know how I would be doing if I’d made this journey alone. Not that I’m not a capable person, I most certainly am. It’s just that if you go into a slump, you starve. And the larger the group—had I travelled with several people instead of only Eric—the bigger the supply issue becomes.
Being a duo, this is monumentally easier. In fact, we have more than we need. We end up wasting a lot of food. I feel only a little guilty about that.
Last night, I was watching the rain come down as the shadows of night were swallowing up the surrounding landscape. I thought long and hard about what I expect to find in Las Vegas. Here’s the kicker: I couldn’t come up with a single thing. At least not one that holds up to scrutiny. This is all about being selfish. I’ve been let loose in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and plan on seeing everything. I realize that my goals aren’t very lofty at this point, but Europe might as well be another planet. This is just the first step. I mean it could’ve just as easily been Disneyland.
But that would’ve been silly.
Saturday, March 13
We found a small inn…and a lot of dead people. Not zombies, but honest-to-goodness dead folks. There is a church across the road with a dozen more bodies hanging from nooses. Most are frozen solid, but one is merely cold. This place is giving off seriously creepy vibes.
Checking out the inn (that is fun to say out loud), it looks like most of the people were beaten to death. Heads were crushed, but Eric got all CSI and pointed out the shattered arms on every single body. These people were trying to fend off an attacker or attackers. Looking even closer—which meant scraping off dried blood or pouring a little water on the body—we found no bite marks or scratches.
The most heartbreaking scene involved a woman who was still clutching the hand of a little girl no older than eight or nine. The rest of the arm and the body it was attached to was several feet away in a mangled heap. Axes were used here as well as blunt weaponry.
Of course we couldn’t stay at the inn. We decided on the church across the way instead. I don’t understand. Not one thing here makes sense. Hangings. Brutal mass slayings. WTF!
Eric and I will sleep in shifts tonight. We intend to be on the road as soon as we’ve both gotten a few hours of shuteye.
Tuesday, March 16
I can’t believe I ever considered making this trip alone. Thank God for Eric. I doubt I would be alive right now if not for him. This is like the mountain version of Deliverance.
I guess there are little pockets of locals out here; and they don’t take kindly to strangers. These folks are no joke. They know this area well, are outdoor types—most are decked out in layers of furs—and remind me of the pictures that I saw in high school history books. You might remember the ones I’m talking about; the ones that are all grainy, black and white, showing the trappers and gold diggers from the olden days. We ran into the first one when we were leaving the church a few days ago. Literally ran in to him.
We were harnessed up and making for the highway. A noise from the direction of the inn started us jogging. (Seriously, I can not convey how creepy the vibe in that area was.) This guy stumbled out of some trees, crashing into Eric and knocking him over. Thinking it was a zombie, I hit my quick-release buckle and came in with my scimitars flashing. Well, it was kinda dark so they weren’t really flashing, but you get my point. I connected solid with a body shot intended to
No sights or sounds since that noise that we are both certain was a human scream the other night. Not a single wandering zombie up here. I can see where this area made for a great location to run to when this whole thing started. The only drawbacks are the weather—which could be as lethal…if not moreso than zombies—and lack of readily available food. I do not know how I would be doing if I’d made this journey alone. Not that I’m not a capable person, I most certainly am. It’s just that if you go into a slump, you starve. And the larger the group—had I travelled with several people instead of only Eric—the bigger the supply issue becomes.
Being a duo, this is monumentally easier. In fact, we have more than we need. We end up wasting a lot of food. I feel only a little guilty about that.
Last night, I was watching the rain come down as the shadows of night were swallowing up the surrounding landscape. I thought long and hard about what I expect to find in Las Vegas. Here’s the kicker: I couldn’t come up with a single thing. At least not one that holds up to scrutiny. This is all about being selfish. I’ve been let loose in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and plan on seeing everything. I realize that my goals aren’t very lofty at this point, but Europe might as well be another planet. This is just the first step. I mean it could’ve just as easily been Disneyland.
But that would’ve been silly.
Saturday, March 13
We found a small inn…and a lot of dead people. Not zombies, but honest-to-goodness dead folks. There is a church across the road with a dozen more bodies hanging from nooses. Most are frozen solid, but one is merely cold. This place is giving off seriously creepy vibes.
Checking out the inn (that is fun to say out loud), it looks like most of the people were beaten to death. Heads were crushed, but Eric got all CSI and pointed out the shattered arms on every single body. These people were trying to fend off an attacker or attackers. Looking even closer—which meant scraping off dried blood or pouring a little water on the body—we found no bite marks or scratches.
The most heartbreaking scene involved a woman who was still clutching the hand of a little girl no older than eight or nine. The rest of the arm and the body it was attached to was several feet away in a mangled heap. Axes were used here as well as blunt weaponry.
Of course we couldn’t stay at the inn. We decided on the church across the way instead. I don’t understand. Not one thing here makes sense. Hangings. Brutal mass slayings. WTF!
Eric and I will sleep in shifts tonight. We intend to be on the road as soon as we’ve both gotten a few hours of shuteye.
Tuesday, March 16
I can’t believe I ever considered making this trip alone. Thank God for Eric. I doubt I would be alive right now if not for him. This is like the mountain version of Deliverance.
I guess there are little pockets of locals out here; and they don’t take kindly to strangers. These folks are no joke. They know this area well, are outdoor types—most are decked out in layers of furs—and remind me of the pictures that I saw in high school history books. You might remember the ones I’m talking about; the ones that are all grainy, black and white, showing the trappers and gold diggers from the olden days. We ran into the first one when we were leaving the church a few days ago. Literally ran in to him.
We were harnessed up and making for the highway. A noise from the direction of the inn started us jogging. (Seriously, I can not convey how creepy the vibe in that area was.) This guy stumbled out of some trees, crashing into Eric and knocking him over. Thinking it was a zombie, I hit my quick-release buckle and came in with my scimitars flashing. Well, it was kinda dark so they weren’t really flashing, but you get my point. I connected solid with a body shot intended to
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