I woke perspiring, heart racing, tears streaming down my face. The nightmares are getting worse. The remnants of each day and the past bleed into my dreams. I just want to go home. I want life to be the way it used to be, when my biggest problem was trying to get a roomful of squirming kindergarteners to sit still. Stop it! That kind of drivel won't help us. Sam, my German Shepherd puppy, is sleeping with his head on my chest. The rhythmic sound of breathing calms my harried nerves.
5:30 am
I lay still for another few hours to let him rest. But it's time to get up; we have work to do. Sam whimpered a little as I gently stroked him awake. Heard his stomach rumble; fed him the last of the jerky. I'm not hungry anyway...
8 am
Back from scavenging. Found enough food to get through another day. We still have enough water and some medicine. I packed up the campsite, tried to erase any sign of our being there, and set off. Need to join up with a group soon. Our luck, by ourselves, will only last so long. Fifty-two days on our own so far, with more near-disasters than I like to remember. The first three groups we tracked, after watching for a while, I decided were better left alone. Sam growled all the whole time we were trailing them. Puppy growls aren't very intimidating, but I trust his instincts. We ran across a fourth group a week ago, and Sam didn't get upset while we trailed them. I approached them after the fifth day. They said they would take me, but not Sam. They saw him as a liability. I won't leave him, so we went on our way. We've been heading north; maybe we will find another group soon.
4 pm
The highway up ahead was blocked off. Why would it be blocked off? Sam and I wandered aimlessly a bit. I wasn't sure what to do. It's so hard to think straight on so little sleep. Suddenly spotted a whole herd of walkers headed our way. There was no where to go, unless we went back the way we came, and there is nothing for us there. I made a decision based on pure panic. There was no way I could take on a whole herd by myself and protect Sam. I picked up my puppy and crawled into the sewer. The smell! I retched.
Sometime Later Who Knows When...
Sam hates it down here. I hate it down here. He stays right by my side. I'm not sure how long we have been walking. Guess it really doesn't matter. I heard indistinct voices, then cursing up ahead. Other people are down here. We follow the sounds slowly. I reached inside my belt and pulled out my favorite throwing knife. Suddenly a figure, a man, walks out of the semi-darkness. We raise our weapons at the exact same time. Great. I've brought a knife to a gun fight. We stand there locked in a sort of shaky stale-mate. Why doesn't he pull the trigger? I expected him to call out to whoever else was in his group. But he didn't. He just stood there staring at me. Why? Before I have a chance to decide what to do, Sam bolts out from behind me and gallops up to the man, leaping on him and licking all over him. I held my breath. "Please don't hurt my dog", I said, voice shaking. I hate it when my voice does that, like I'm some useless feeble female. I'm not feeble, not frail, not soft - except when it comes to Sam. He's the only good thing I have left. I lowered my knife slowly, took a shuddering breath, and met his gaze directly. With a confidence I didn't feel, I made my way over to him, stuck out my hand and said "I'm Evelyn Rider."
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