And of course, the bridge at Eagle Valley Rd was down, too. The next one at Bridge Lane was more than a mile southwest of me. I wasn't going to walk to any more broken bridges. I was going to do what I didn't want to do: cross that creek. I estimated it was about 200-250 feet across. No problem if you can swim, but I can't. I had to come up with something.
I went back to the country club to see if there was anything else I could find, but along the way, I noticed a Peters Marine just across the street. I went in to see if there was a small rowboat or something that I could I lug back to the creek, but it was rioted. All the boats had holes purposefully smashed in them. I don't understand why people feel the need to destroy things they can't take that could ultimately help someone else out...
I did find an inflatable raft tucked all the way in the back of store. Some bit of luck. I grabbed it and instead of going all the way back to Bald Eagle Creek, I decided to try to cross Fishing Creek. Not only was it closer to me, but it was about 100 feet narrower. I pulled the cord of the raft and let it inflate and then put it in the water and very awkwardly got in. Already, I felt panicked as water was all around me, but I forced myself to remain calm.
My bat served as a makeshift oar and I did my best to paddle across. There was virtually no current, so I just kept paddling until after a few minutes, I was across, although not without catching my foot in the rocks and splashing face first in the water. Everything got wet, and the comforter bag only soaked up more water and became ruthlessly heavy.
I took off all my clothes to wring them out and then began to wring the comforter dry as best I could. And of COURSE, when I'm completely naked, a freshie decides to jump me. I didn't even here him coming until he was right behind me as I turned around. He literally made no noise, like he was running on a road of pillows and not growling, something that betrayed everything I knew about them. He crashed into me and took me down, my head still sore from last night's thud, striking a rock on the way down.
I didn't hear the crack of the rifle, just the crack of my head hitting that rock. Took me a few seconds to blink away the stars, and then I realized someone upstream shot the zombie off of me. As I focused to make out who this figure was, I realized I was stark naked and scrambled for my clothes. He shouted at me what was I doing here, and I said I was trying to get to Lock Haven hospital, that a friend of mine had been hurt, struck by a car. He asked me if it was a short young woman with red hair, and I enthusiastically said yes! Yes, it was! It was Kat!
We began walking to the hospital, which was just a little more than a mile down Eagle Valley Rd. He said his name was Dustin Sanders. He was the one who blew up the bridges after they had another attack of zombies at the hospital. He said he was trying to secure the area from any zombies crossing the bridges, just like I figured. I asked him where he got the explosives and he said he used to work in demolition. I also held my tongue, because I was going to criticize him for making so much noise. I know his intentions were good, but it was a rather lousy plan when you got to thinking about it.
He apologized for hitting Kat and explained that it was a serious mistake. He said she was walking with a limp and mistook her for a zombie and decided to hit her, but at the very last second changed his mind and tried to pull away but still clipped her. When Dustin heard her yelling in pain, he realized she wasn't a zombie at all and came back to get her. I asked him with immediate concern in my voice if she was ok, and he said she was, just banged up a bit. I really wanted to bash his head in with my golf club for being so stupid, but he did take responsibility and drove her to the hospital.
As we got closer to Lock Haven, I began to see people in the streets. Not undead people moaning about looking for their next meal, but real live people. There was a small community here. Dustin explained that he knew it was a drastic move to blow up the bridges, but once there were more than just a few of them he took measures to try to keep everyone safe.
I started speeding up my pace the closer to the hospital I came. Once inside, he took me to her room and I opened the door slowly, not to startle her. That was the last thing I wanted to do to her after what happened before. She saw me and I half-expected her to start screaming bloody murder, to get away, but she said, "Martin? MARTIN!" and held her arms out to me like a child wanting its favorite teddy bear. I ran to her, propped up in her hospital bed, and hugged her tightly.
You have no idea how good it felt to hold her. Riddled with guilt, believing she was dead, and now feeling her warm body in my arms, smelling her hair, staring into those sparkling brown eyes. Upon seeing our reunion, Dustin excused himself and left us alone to catch up. We just kept hugging tightly until our cheeks rubbed against each other and we kissed. The stress in both of us just melted away and we lost ourselves in each other's embrace.
She's holding me now, me sharing what little room she has in her bed. She apologized so much for reacting the way she did, leaving me stranded on the interstate, and I apologized for losing my tempter the way I did. I didn't blame her at all, just glad to see her again after searching for so many days.
Going to end it here. There's a lot more to talk about it, but juice is getting low, so I'm thankful, more than ever, that there was a tomorrow, and I eagerly look forward to the next!
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