Rise by Gareth Wood

over, with only a guess about where they came from. It could be CFB Cold Lake, but it could also be somewhere further east, and there might not be anyone there now. We really had no idea.
     

10:28 p.m.
     
     
    After some trouble we secured two working CB radio sets from two of the 18-wheeler cabs I mentioned earlier. The first was a straight removal. The set was built into the dash, secured on two brackets that ran from the floor of the cab to comfort height by the driver’s right hand. It took about ten minutes to remove the bolts, mostly because we had to find something to loosen them with. I finally remembered we had a toolkit in the van, and there was a set of pliers there with those adjustable pump handles. Worked like a charm. Then we had to remove the wiring. That was easier, and we got the unit out and into the Rav4. The whole time I was doing this, the others were on guard duty, keeping a watchful eye out for hungry dead things.
    The second radio was a little harder. It was about ten kilometers down the road from the first one, and we had passed by there noting that the driver was still in the cab, but somewhat restless. When we pulled up he got pretty excited, but was firmly belted in, so all he could do was make a noise that drove slivers of ice up my spine, wave his arms at us, and sit there. This truck had not gone off the road. It had stopped by a traffic accident, and the semi driver had apparently been attacked even before he could get out of his truck. There was a corpse on the road by his door, and its head was mostly gone, but I suspected this had been a zombie that attacked the driver, only to have him kill it. The driver had then likely succumbed to a wound and rose, but was unable to get out of the seat belt. Dave and Darren handled this one. Sarah, Jess and I handled guard duty. Dave opened the passenger door while keeping the shotgun trained on the undead driver, and then backed away. Darren had lined up a shot from several dozen feet away, and took it once Dave was clear. He was using the hunting rifle that we had picked up from the house east of Prince George, and I saw Jess check out his form as he fired, and she nodded once he was done. She’s a good teacher. Darren’s single shot killed the undead driver, and we got to work. Dave had the radio out in about five minutes, and also found another handgun in the cab. It was a revolver, and Jess told us it was a classic, a .357 Magnum. It only had four unfired rounds left in it, and we searched but found no more ammo. Presumably the other two rounds were what destroyed the head of the zombie on the road.
    Just as we were loading the last of us into the van, two walking dead stumbled out of the woods southwest of the road. They probably had heard the shot and were coming to see if there was a meal to be had. They started towards us, two males in what was left of business suits, both of them clean cut and young. I spotted a tag on the pocket of one of them, and it looked like those tags the Mormon missionaries wear. They fit the look, but I don’t think they wanted to share Jesus’ love with us right that second. They were ripe too. The stench was terrible, and we were all gagging as we drove away from them. No matter how long we are exposed to it, the smell is still just terrible. I wonder if disease will be a problem for us. This many corpses, walking or not, is sure to be a major health problem.
    We got back here to the house without trouble, and now Jess is on watch, Dave and Darren have installed the first radio, and I have finished cleaning up after dinner. Michael is sleeping in mine and Jess’ room. Man, I like saying that. Sarah was giving me the talk about birth control earlier, and I agreed completely. It hasn’t actually gotten that far right now, but I think a good supply of prevention is in order. I’ll talk to Jess about that when she comes to bed. For now, I need some sleep. Tomorrow we are heading into Prince George to the