I lined up the crosshairs slightly above the forehead of the lead walker to compensate for the drop of the projectile, and concentrated on timing its jerky, uncoordinated movements. Through the magnified view of the scope, I could see that the undead shuffling in front had been a tall young man before it died. The tattered remains of a business suit flapped around its grayish skin. Its shoes had long since fallen apart, leaving its torn and ruined feet exposed to the elements. A lime green tie dangled from its neck flapping listlessly in the frigid wind.

 

I let out half a breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger. The suppressed rifle thumped as the stock bucked backward into my shoulder. Even with a silencer on it, the powerful weapon still made a good bit of noise when fired. Through the scope, I saw the dead man in the suit collapse, his shattered skull covering the corpse behind him with gray and brown chunks.

 

“Nice shot.” Gabe said. “See if you can do it four more times.” He was peering through his binoculars at the undead below.

 

I worked the bolt of the rifle and chambered another round. I managed to drop the next three undead with one shot each, but on the last target, my aim was slightly low, and punched a hole through the ghoul’s cheekbone. It staggered backward for a moment, then righted itself and doggedly trudged forward. Most of the left half of its face was gone, but its brain remained intact. The hunting rifle was out of ammunition, so I handed it to Gabriel. I reached back and drew my small sword.

 

“No sense wasting any more ammo on just one of them.” I said. “Grab some cartridges and reload the rifle will ya? I’ll wait for it to come to me.”

 

Gabe slung the hunting rifle over his shoulder and opened the cover to my backpack. He took out a handful of 30.06 rounds, and put them in the camouflaged breast pocket of his heavy winter coat. I stuck the point of my sword into the frozen ground and propped the handle up against the steel fencepost. I crossed my forearms over the rail and rested my chin on them as I watched the undead make its way up the mountain.

 

“You making any progress on that journal of yours?” Gabe asked as he reloaded the Winchester Model 70.

 

“Yeah, I guess. Mostly I’ve just been recording mundane stuff. Supply and ammo inventories, areas we’ve scouted already, locations of fresh water and building materials, things like that.” I replied.

 

“You ever think about writing down more than that?” Gabe asked. “Now that some folks have finally managed to get part of the Internet back online, we might get a chance to post something on the way out to Colorado. Might be a good way to pass the time for the next few months.”

 

I looked up at the tree limbs in the surrounding wood line. There was a gentle easterly breeze sending small swirls of powdery snow floating through the air. Good that the wind is blowing east, I thought. That’ll keep the worst of the radiation away from us.

 

“I have thought about it. I’m just not sure where to start. There’s so much to tell, might take me a long time to write it all down.” I said.

 

“Well, unless you got something else planned for the next few months, other than patrols and scouting, I think you’re going to have plenty of free time.”

 

Gabe finished loading the rifle, worked the bolt to chamber a round, and handed it back to me. I slung the strap across my chest to leave my hands free.

 

Gabe was right, of course. Since winter set in, we only went scouting for supplies when the weather permitted, and we never went more that a day’s walk away from home. The weather can change quickly in the Carolina mountain country, and we did not want to be stuck out in the cold or get pinned down by a storm.