A few hours after I ended last night's entry, we reached Indianapolis, or at least the fence surrounding it. I now know where the military went. At first, we all cheered for joy when we saw the checkpoint station with armed guards in digital camouflage HAZMAT suits. We were halted before even being able to pull up to the gate. They ordered us all out of the ambulance and had us kneel on the ground. Kat had to lay down since her cast prevented her from kneeling. The guard pulled a device out about the size of a metal detector wand and a neon blue light pulsated from it. We were being scanned.
He picked up the radio from his shoulder and spoke into it. "Infected, all of them." Undecipherable chatter came from the other end of which the guard replied, "No, not alphas .... No sign of decay. ... They appear healthy, most likely carriers." Alphas? What the hell were alphas? Could they be the leathers? I tried to ask but was ordered to remain silent, and I complied.
We just let the guard finish talking on the radio, and he ended it with a, "Yes sir." I asked him could he tell us now what's going on? Can they help us at all? Are we allowed into the city? He only looked back at me, emotionless, a soldier trained to be uncaring in order to carry out its job efficiently. He said the city's under protective quarantine. No one carrying any strain of vivensmortua was allowed in. I had to ask again, we were all infected? He said yes, and called us carriers. Carriers....We're all carriers, just like Cheyenne; like Rat.
We pleaded for help, for supplies, for gas, for anything, but were met with rifles pointed at us. We were warned to go the other way, or they would fire. Hector tried stepping forward, and a guard shot at his foot and he shuffled back. We had no choice. We had to turn around. The military wasn't going to help us. We were beyond help. Whatever salvaged civilization was left in the middle of that city was off limits to us.
The fence's perimeter was 10 miles wide on all sides. I had to head back on I-70 to HWY 52 just to be able to get around the city. I wasn't happy about burning what precious gas we had left, but there was no way through Indianapolis. Being denied entry made me furious. We needed help but they threatened to kill us before they'd help us.
As I continued to drive, I got to thinking about what I heard. The alphas must have been their name for the leathers. It made sense. Alphas are usually the dominate, superior animals in the group. If it referred to something stronger and deadlier, I wouldn't want to know what. Then, there was us being carriers. That means anyone not infected with the virus, we can make sick by breathing on them, bleeding on them, and biting them. The realization of what we were took a deep toll on us.
Jonathan doesn't want to go to Idaho anymore. He doesn't want to find his friends because even if he did, he'd most likely get them sick. I started thinking about my parents. I couldn't go to them now. If they weren't already dead, I'd only infect them. I know they're not AB-, so I'm sure they would be infected. There's always the slim chance of them simply being immune to the airborne strain, and I reminded Jonathan of that, but he didn't want to take the risk.
Hector's position didn't change simply because he had no direction. He didn't want to go anywhere. He was just happy being with us. It was Sandra that I really began to be concerned about. She'll never have a normal life now. Any city we find with survivors, they won't let us in. She won't be able to play with other kids. She's not going to meet a boy, kiss and fall in love with and have a family with. Why are we even still alive if that's the case?
It was close to three in the morning, and we were nearly out of gas so we spent the rest of the night in the ambulance. I talked to Kat about what we should do. I felt aimless, hopeless, not knowing where to go now. She said the mountains would be the best place to go, even if my parents were there. We didn't have to find them if we didn't want to. Even if we did, we could simply wear masks or something. I didn't think that was a very good idea. You could be as careful as you wanted, but somehow, infection always finds a way. But she's right. It would be much safer to stay in the mountains. California would be our goal. We just had to get there.
We woke up to a herd of zombies outside our ambulance. They completely ignored us, some bumping into the van and continued walking as if we weren't there. They moved en masse in numbers I'd have to say were in the hundreds. There were draggers and freshies and leathers, which I guess are alphas now, and passed right by us heading towards the direction of Indianapolis.
We all kept low of the windows and simply listened to them go by. Sandra was scared, but made no noise. Kat crept up to me as I carefully raised my head up to see how many more zombies were still coming. Hector whispered to me and asked what I thought was going on. Why weren't they attacking us? Didn't they know we were here? The answer came to me like a light bulb. Smorgasbord. There was no point in paying us any attention. Considering what awaited for them, they wanted to get there as fast as possible.
"Everything happens for a reason." We were denied entry to that place, and we were better for it. Those poor people have no idea what's coming to them. "Everything happens for a reason." It was Johanna's favorite quote. She always believed that no matter what happened to you, how bad it was, there was a purpose. There was always a positive around the corner. Then I thought what life would have been like had Johanna still been alive. I would have loved her, sure. But then, would I have loved her the same as Kat? Maybe Kat was meant to be the one. I would have never met her, and Sandra as well, if the zombie outbreak never came to be. I regained my perspective.
It must have been at least two or three hours before the last group of zombies shuffled past us. I started up the ambulance and we resumed our journey down I-70 until we ran out of gas about 40 miles later. We're now in farm country. We grabbed all the supplies we could carry from the ambulance, and I put Kat in the wheelchair and we found a farmhouse not too far off the freeway. What we found in the house, though, was horrible. Two boys and a girl in the kitchen were shot in the head by a shotgun. The woman in the bedroom was also shot, but the shooter was no where to be found. The bloodstains looked to be many months old, though, so I doubt the shooter is still around.
Jonathan and Hector helped me clear all the bodies from the house and we dug graves for each them. At this rate, Sandra's going to run out of tongue depressors for crosses. After we finished with the graves, we settled in the house. First thing we did was check the pantries, but all the dry goods were being eaten by rats. Thankfully, though, they did have a cellar which housed many canned fruits. We had fruit salad for dinner tonight, and it was some of the best I ever had!
We took it easy for the rest of the day. Hector took out his playing cards and we played poker for a while, teaching Sandra how to play as well. She was a quick learner, and actually ended up developing a pretty mean poker face. I love that kid, I really do. We explore the house and the farm thoroughly first thing tomorrow. I wonder if they have a rooster that will wake us up...
Until tomorrow.
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