Okay, lots has happened since my last post. I shoved a bunch of shells into my pockets and went next door to check on Yo and Brett and Amy. B&A have left (all vehicles gone), but Yo was home and freaking out. She's a ham-radio afficianado, and apparently this is happening all across the country. (Lots of bloggers writing about it.) Anyway, lots of people are in denial, but it's clearly ZOMBIES!
Sorry for the abrupt end to my last post; I had to quick finish nailing up the plywood. Undead bastards were pounding on the sliding-glass doors out back. I don't want them trying to come in from both directions.
Anyhow, Yo met me at the door with her - get this - AR-15 with two 40-round banana clips duct-taped together for quick reload. She was wearing a motorcycle helmet and suggested I do the same: Clever! So we just spent the last half-hour making a circuit around the University Place neighborhood clearing out the zombie population. We must make quite a pair, attired in full-face motorcycle helmets, leather jackets, thick gloves, scarves, and so on - in the 85-degree Kansas summer heat. Don't want to become the enemy, if you know what I mean. They seem to move in packs now, some as numerous as ten all together. "Makes for a nice, tight grouping," Yo said as she popped off a dozen rounds and took them all out. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing with my shotgun: You have to open their skull to the air to put them down, and I don't want to get that close. But I've been acting as a spotter and occasionally letting off a round when a pack of zombies is too big for her to take all at once.
That cop from before? He slowed down near us and pointed his rifle. "What the hell do you two thing you're doing?" he asked. "Killing the undead," Yo answered. The cop nodded, apparently satisfied that we could speak, and sped off.
Gotta run - just got a call from Yo. A fellow ham-operator across 19th Street says a mob of nearly 100 zombies is headed our way. Shit.