Things got started early, what with the dead blocking the freeways and all. They quickly finished off the motorcycle riders, but those folks are all just a step away from zombiehood, anyway. Pretty soon they were smashing car windows and pulling folks from their cars.
I avoided that, and stuck to the back roads; there was the occasional ambling corpse, but I have a big car, and knocking them out of the way was easy.
Stopping to do the grocery shopping was tough, because you never knew what was in the next aisle. I had prepared myself this time, though, and had a cutlass on my belt right from the start. I left the heavier armaments in the trunk of the car, where they wouldn't attract attention. You know, baseball bat, claymore, pump action shotgun. The good stuff.
After grabbing necessities from the store (such as lighter fluid, rope, and tiki torches), I hightailed it up the road towards Mount Baldy; there'd be only a few folks up there at this time of year, and with what I had on hand, it figured to be an easy day. Not like last year.
I wasn't quite right; somebody had taken a bus up there for a kiddy party, and so I was mobbed on arrival. A cutlass does work nicely for the little Zs, but their parents are more problematic. When one of the kids stuffed her hand in the tailpipe and another in the air intake, the car failed, and I had to climb the roof again. I mean, in terms of altitude, up the mountain road, I was higher than last year, but I had less response time when the crowd started up atop the car.
In this valley, I can't tell when the sun REALLY sets, but I don't think I'm going to make it; my arm feels like lead. We could really use the Marines if they weren't all stuck overseas...