Glad to be alive.

Hey, guys, sorry it’s been almost a week. You probably thought I died, and not in the classic internet way, either. Like the actual way. Truth is, I thought I was going to die for a while there, too. Like actually die.

I would have been better off talking to Big Tim just a little while longer and maybe I might have ended up telling him approximately where I was when we were talking. Then he could have warned me.

I was on my way to International Falls and the last town I had to go through was Big Falls. Some of you might remember that I tweeted right outside of it. Driving through, I hit road spikes. Not the accidental kind.

All four of my tires blew and I was forced to stop. Which, obviously, was part of the plan. At least six people popped out from around buildings and seemingly abandoned vehicles, guns trained on me, screaming at me to get out of the car.

What would you do? I ducked and drew. They shot up the car, miraculously missing me. Then I did what you probably would have done, held my hands up and got out of the car. They pulled a sack over my head, as if that would do anything. It doesn’t matter if I can’t see where I’m being taken, it’s Big Falls. Want to leave? Walk until you’re not in a miniature shit hole.

Anyway, these assholes drug me somewhere. On my way out I didn’t even see which of the five buildings it was. They tossed me in a tiny room and left. The other occupant pulled the sack off for me.

“Little Timmy?” I asked.

“Carly?” she replied.

“Carly. I’m Lassie- I mean, Eric.”


“It’s a codename. Your… boyfriend? sent me?”



“He’s my husband.”

“Got it. How are we going to get out of here?”

“Well,” I began. “I have a really stupid idea.”

When a guy came to check on us (which, why bother? But he did.) I was pressed against the well next to the opening side of the door. He didn’t open it slowly or anything, just kind of came barging in. Luckily his sidearm was holstered on the side of him I was standing on and I just reached out and plucked it off his hip.

He snatched at it but I pistol whipped him in the face, stunning him. Then I hit him again in the temple, which put him down. I didn’t want to take any shots I didn’t have to, and bring the entire asshole brigade charging in at us.

We hid his body and I hid his gun in my pants with my shirt covering it so you couldn’t see that I had it. We had no idea the positioning of any of the men, so getting caught was likely.

Sure enough, someone saw us but we both threw our hands up and they didn’t shoot. He whistled as he approached us, the muzzle of his shotgun trained on us the entire time. In just a minute or two, another guy arrived, looking kind of leader-y. I don’t know.

Then came the fun part. They decided they couldn’t just leave us locked up, so they threw us in a zombie-filled mud flat called “The Well.”

Little Timmy was stuck in the well, along with Lassie. We were pretty much fucked. “You got five minutes!” the leader-y-looking dude yelled at us as they started loading shotguns. I sparta-kicked a zombie that was uncomfortably close and turned to look at Carly.

North,” I mouthed silently as I jerked my head south. I think she got it. We took off through the hordes going southeast, away from our captors and away from the actual direction we planned on traveling once we got into the trees. But they were so, so far away. We had five minutes.

The trees weren’t actually that far away, but we had a lot of zombies to run through. Once we got about halfway to the woods and hadn’t done more than push away a single zombie, the morons must have figured out our plan. I don’t know what else anybody else would have done (stand, fight, and get eaten?), but I heard a great deal of very loud swearing from the road.

“Coupla mondo pussies!” one guy called. I turned back just briefly to see what they were doing. Which was pushing through the zombies with their shotguns. Which would probably take them forever. One guy had a better idea, which was do what we were doing, and was covering pretty decent ground weaving through the zombies after us carrying only a handgun.

“C’mon,” Carly said and we kept after the tree line. I kept checking back for the guy and he was actually gaining ground on us. We were almost to the trees by the time he was just about catching up, firing inaccurate shots over our heads. I put the speed on and made it behind a tree. I look over and saw Carly behind another one. I pulled my own stolen gun and peeked around the corner for the guy.

The bark splintered and flew off the trunk as the guy tried to shoot me through the tree, the shot missing by inches. I saw his muzzle flash, which told me where he was. I popped out and fired three rounds into his center mass. He dropped. He had been a few yards clear of any zombies (they thinned out considerably near the woods) but I could tell they were going to converge on his corpse. I sprinted to it, kicked one zombie, shot another, and snatched his gun off the ground. I trotted back to the woods and passed it to Carly.

“It’s still warm,” she said.

“Let’s get out of their sight and turn north,” I said.

“Good plan.”

I looked back once more at the men following us. They were making progress, albeit slow. They didn’t seem to know what had gone down at the treeline, but they probably didn’t realize I had killed him, since they don’t know I had a gun.

We could wait in the trees and pick them all off as they get close-

C’mon,” Carly said. What followed was a lot of boring and tedious walking through the woods, crossing a river, and walking through the woods some more. We didn’t want to pick up the highway in case the assholes came after us. If they even survived their own “Well.”

We did decide to steal a vehicle in Littlefork after walking through the woods for three damn days. The drive of the rest of the distance to I Falls only took three hours, with all of the shit and catastrophe in the road.

I would have posted this sooner, but we’ve had a lot of work fixing up the house they’re in and getting back on our feet. Plus, I just needed to rest. So there.


One response to “Glad to be alive.

  1. Pingback: Project Final Write Up | Weblog at Gunpoint

Hit me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s