Sunday, June 12, 2011


About to get back on the road. Midwest has one thing going for it: Fields. Fields are good places to park. They're big empty spaces. Easy to park in. Easy to keep an eye out. No trees nearby. Safe.

I've been out of Chicago since Friday. The storm came through. It was early afternoon. Pete and I were out. Went to get hot dogs. Fucking hot dogs. Cut down an alley because it was quicker. Those two guys came at us. Ones from the store.

The first grabbed my wrists from behind. The other went at Pete with a knife. I twisted out of the hold. Bumped into Knife. Sent him stumbling which gave Pete time. We both ran. The husks came after us. Pete and I went for the nearest building.

We got inside alright. Rushed an elevator and got inside. Went up to the second floor, hopped out. We waited by the stairs as the husks ran past. Ducked in behind them and went down to the first floor and out. I haven't seen them since. Get up high, my ass. Can't run on the roof.

We got a few blocks away. Pete and I stopped to talk. The hotel room was too dangerous. Thankfully we brought our bags out with us. Always take your bag with you. We knew we had to get out of town. Our cars were parked in different lots. It was best to split up. I gave him my number. Told him to buy a prepaid phone and get in touch. After that, we were on our separate ways.

I haven't heard from Pete since. I hope he's well.

Road is taking me west. I've not been this way in awhile. Interesting.


  1. You know that getting up high was meant to protect against the beast himself, right? It's kind of obvious that it wouldn't do jack shit against hollowed people.

  2. If Donovan comes near Nevada at any time, e-mail The Mad Ventriloquist. He'd be happy to have him.