Wrath (Adrian's Undead Diary) by Chris Philbrook

Author:Chris Philbrook [Philbrook, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Published: 2014-03-12T05:00:00+00:00

-Adrian

May 25th

Blake, Gilbert and I took The Farm. Gilbert’s left eye is useless, but he wouldn’t let us go in just the two of us. Old soldier. Hard as nails.

We made our plan in a few minutes, and executed it as best we could. It wasn’t the best plan, but my rage dictated that we moved that night together, or I did it alone. Our first concern was to not kill the pregnant women. Obviously I already said that we killed some, so you know that part of the plan fell through in a big way. We didn’t anticipate some of the women fighting us though. We all expected them to be hostages, or unwilling participants in the Pastor’s grand schemes. We were wrong. We had to defend ourselves from everyone that night, and have mercy on me, but I shot and killed women pregnant with child.

Our plan to breach was meant to get folks out of the house, or get them moving around inside to the point where we could fire accurately into the windows. If they went outside of the structure, we could pick them off easily. We debated driving a vehicle straight into the farm house, but we knew that sucked because they’d hear us coming, their fence is really sturdy, and we couldn’t risk them hitting the engine block of a vehicle leaving one or more of us stranded out in the open, taking fire.

We immediately thought of pepper spray, or tear gas, but we didn’t have enough of it to effectively flood the whole house. A few handheld personal defense cans of pepper spray wouldn’t be effective enough to flush out all those people. At best they might get itchy runny eyes and crack a window, which wasn’t worth the effort.

Fire wouldn’t work on the house either. We can’t control fire, and it kills people indiscriminately. Last thing we wanted was another Waco incident where everyone burns up in flames. So fire was out on the farmhouse.

Fire was an option on the barn though. Gilbert and I were taking a scorched earth policy. If we kill the fucking cows in a fire, so what. We didn’t have cows at the start of that day, so burning a few up in a fire didn’t change anything for us at the end of the day. Plus we knew that if we torched the barn, they might come out and try to stop it. Worst case, they’d move to the windows, and we might get some clean shots to thin the crowd inside before we went in and took the house manually.

We parked in the woods on the logging trail late. Near midnight I think. Blake and I were loaded for bear. M4, Enfield, shotguns for each of us, handguns, shit loads of ammo for everything… body armor… I felt strong. I felt mean. I was angry.

Gilbert waddled his ass around to the back end of The Farm in between the rounds of the single guard. It was a hike and took him some time, but he made it to the position with no issues.

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