Zomblog: The Final Entry Read Online Free PDF

decided to zig through a ruined neighborhood where we found an empty two-story house that looked exactly like every other house we passed. I have no explanation or logic behind our choice, it was simply luck. We totally scored!
    We didn’t have to touch any of our supplies and I am stuffed. It will almost suck to leave this place tomorrow. I just polished off two cans of mandarin oranges, a jar of sundried tomatoes in olive oil, and a tin of smoked oysters. Right now I am snacking on some magnificently stale Grandma’s oatmeal cookies. (Don’t knock wax packaging.)
    It only gets better. I found a Sony Discman portable CD player. Right now I am curled up in a wicker Papasan chair with overstuffed cushions. Sam is in my lap under the blankies, and I am listening to Mozart. The disc says this is Requiem , which I realize is somewhat ironic giving the state of things. Eric said it was creepy, but I think it is beautiful. I found a package of a dozen batteries that work, but I will use this sparingly. It is an absolute treasure. There was a cd wallet with a few dozen discs in it. I plan on finding a way to bring this with me.
    We really did take a lot of things for granted in the Old World. So much was readily available that it didn’t require thought…just want. And now, music like this might be gone forever. This is what I meant about living. The simple act of finding this and hearing the music brought real tears to my eyes.
    Eric is in the next room snoring. Every time I change the discs or there is a break between tracks on the cd, I hear him. Is there a more abrasive sound than snoring in this world? I think not. I’ll even take wailing zombies over that sound.
    It is almost dark outside. From my seat, I can look out the window to the street below. The dead stroll by like there is a twenty-four hour block party happening. Sometimes, one comes up to this house in particular. It paws at the door or scratches at the boards covering the windows, and then it wanders off. I think I’ll stop writing for a bit and just enjoy this little luxury.
     
     
     
     
    Friday, February 5
     
    Someplace close there is a freakin’ war goin’ on! We’ve taken refuge in—of all things—a trailer park beside the highway. From here we can see an apartment complex across the way. Five of the three-story units are ablaze. Occasionally I can see shadowy forms dashing one way or the other. Also, we keep seeing bright flashes arc through the sky. (I think it is Molotov cocktails.)
    Obviously this place has been picked clean. The trailer we are hiding in is nothing more than a shell. Even the wiring is gone. Sam doesn’t like it at all.
    The best thing about what is going on out there right now is that the zombies are drawn to all the activity on the other side of the highway. I haven’t heard any sounds to indicate that either side has firearms. It is actually sort of creepy. Sometimes there is screaming. I can remember a time when I might’ve felt the need to go over there and get involved…pick a side. Not anymore.
     
    Saturday, February 6
     
    Highway 26 is also called Mount Hood Highway. We are out of the more densely populated areas and now camped in a farmhouse. The sign we passed, and eventually decided to turn down, said this is ‘SE Stone Rd.’ It intersected the highway and seemed as good of a place as any to turn off and look for our nightly lodgings.
    There has been a herd through here recently. You can tell it is recent because the swathe of destruction isn’t all mucky and full of puddles from this morning’s rain shower. (Actually, that was Eric’s observation, but once I looked and gave it some thought, it was kind of obvious.) The rain came early, but it has been sunny all day. Well, at least until about five minutes ago. Now all the trenches made by an undead army on the move are filling with water.
    The field out back has about a twenty-yard-wide ‘path’ trampled through it. I wonder what started them this