I killed a man last night. Or finished killing him at least. I was washing my dishes in the river and checking my lines one last time when he must have sneaked into my camp. I'm not sure which direction he came in from, but he didn't make a noise.
I didn't even notice he was there until I was coming back up to my campsite and he stepped into the light of fire. I could tell right away that he was hurt, there was a nasty wound at the base of his neck and his shirt was soaked in blood.
"Jesus, buddy, what the hell happened to you?" I called out, moving closer toward him. "I don't have much in the way of medical supplies, but I'll help you as best I can."
I probably should have realized that something wasn't right when he didn't say anything. It was almost as if he didn't see me until I spoke out and then he just turned and stared at me.
When I got closer, I could see that his eyes were like the woman I has seen in Iowa, but worse. They were all brown and yellow and misshapen, almost like they were collapsing in on themselves.
His ghastly face made me draw back a step and he came lurching at me, moving with a stiff-legged gait. I fell backwards, tripping over some of my gear and landed with a thud on my butt. As the man continued toward me, he walked right through the fire. Fortunately for me the uneven footing slowed him down and gave me time to scramble over to where the shotgun was resting.
I picked it up but didn't have time to do anything more than shoot from the hip. The shot was almost point blank and caught him square in the chest. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him sprawling onto his back.
I stood there trying to catch my breath and collect my thoughts when the man sat upright at the waist, like Frankenstein's monster rising up from the slab. Even in the light of my trampled fire I could see his chest cavity was blown open. How the hell did he not die? I'll never know, but my second shot removed most of his face and the back of his head. He fell down again and didn't move after that.
Exhausted but too scared to sleep, I gathered up my things, packed them in the car and headed out, driving in the dark for the first time in days. I'm not sure how long I drove, but I eventually found an abandoned house with a detached garage. I parked inside and made sure the doors to the outside were locked. I slept in my car the rest of the night and into this morning holding my shotgun in my hands.
Along the way, I lost the signal for the Lincoln radio station, but picked up another from Rapid City. Not that it made much difference, it's playing exactly the same thing: Country music and CDC messages.
I made it to Mount Rushmore before sunset and took some time to take in the sights. I'm spending the night in the visitor center. It doesn't look like anyone has been here in a while. It's the first building I've been in that hasn't been looted since this whole mess started.
There's no food to speak of here, but I did see some vending machines I plan to break open before I leave in the morning. I wonder if that's a felony since this is Federal property.
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