Soon to be Finished…

I looked back.  The zombies trampled toward me, eyes filled with blood.  Just a few more seconds.

I glanced down to watch the blood stream from my leg.  I’d lost a lot already.  I could feel my heart beating in my knee.  Every thud sent a surge of pain climbing up my leg.

My heartbeat was pounding harder now.  Dead.  I’m going to be dead.  I’d spent so much time trying to stay alive that I hadn’t actually thought about what death was going to be like.  I tried to crawl some more, but as I lifted my body up my arms went numb.  I collapsed.  My cheek smacked down on the cold pavement.  The sky flickered a few times, then everything went black.

___________

The grenade sailed through the air with purpose.  It spiraled in a beautiful arch and disappeared into the center of the swarm.  A good throw.  It erupted from within the mob, flinging body parts in all directions.  The force of the blow expanded upward and outward, launching several ghouls a few meters away.  Those from the rear trampled over the fallen undauntedly to take the lead.

My feet pounded the concrete underneath me.  Tamara glanced back to see if I was still behind her.  ”Watch the fucking mines!” I barked.  We were running full speed through a Wal-Mart minefield.  This was certainly not the way I wanted to go out.  Scanning the ground ahead of us, I saw nothing but trash and bodies littering our getaway.  There was no telling where these things were planted.  I barely even knew what to look for; small, round, dish-like mines?  We were dead any second.

Truth be told, we weren’t running as fast as we could.  The zombies, free from the troubling knowledge that they could be blown to pieces at any second, were gaining on us.  Tamara darted up the hood of a car and began making her way across the tops of the vehicles. I followed close behind, but darted left to an adjacent path of cars to split us up.  The zombies followed haphazardly, stumbling and slipping in their pursuit.  I couldn’t tell the difference between my heartbeat and the clapping of my feet on the cars below.

Mines began popping off behind us.  I wanted to turn back and enjoy the eruption, watch the beauty of the shrapnel ripping through their frail bodies.  The remaining zombies stifled my desire.  As I looked ahead, I saw my car-top path running short.  Tamara had a good lead and was already back on the ground.  The parking lot was clear ahead.  No bodies, which had to mean no mines.

I jumped back to the right, headed for the clear.  As I ran down the windshield of an SUV, the glass caved in.  My right foot plummeted down onto the dash, my body hit the hood, and my ankle twisted through the glass.  I clunked down on the pavement smashing my knee down solid.  I howled as the pain shot up my leg.  Not my leg!  I rolled onto my stomach and scrambled across the ground.  Tamara turned to fire, but only gasped at me dragging my leg behind me.

“Go!” I screamed.  There’s nothing she could do.  I’m done, no good as a survivor if I can’t fucking run.  Johnny and Sticky had to be dead by now.  ”Get away while you can…”

I rolled onto my back and began shooting.  I didn’t turn to watch her leave.  She needed me to hold them off for her to have any chance on her own.  I know her chances, she’ll be dead in a week, but I have to try.  Someone has to survive this.

I drained the bullets from gun, one by one, until it was empty.  I glanced around for a weapon and found nothing.  For no real reason, other than habit, I rolled back over and crawled to escape.  Pointless, sure, but I wasn’t going to sit there and wait to get bitten.

My body shuttered at the thought of becoming one of them.  I hope they kill me.  Rip me up into pieces.  Just the thought of killing a human made me sick to my stomach.  Not that there are many left.  At that thought, the horde  lurched from around the SUV and trampled toward me.

I am also feeling a great deal of compassion for those stricken with addiction.  This has been such a dominating theme in my life.  So many loved ones in my life have been addicts.  My mother and father, to begin, spent my childhood chasing the euphoria that drugs bring.  My sister followed in their footsteps to a much lesser degree.  Looking back on this, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming pain they felt, so keenly felt that they had to escape.  My parents lost a child, my sister and I lost our brother.  Our lives were riddled with death, depression, drug abuse, sexual abuse, verbal and physical abuse, Alzheimer’s, manic-depression, manipulation, suicide, schizophrenia, and cancer.  Not just a list, I feel each one on a cellular level.  I was the lucky one.

My family wanted to feel happiness, at whatever cost, just one ounce of true happiness in a life of sadness.  They wanted to feel alive, floating above the surface of all this shit like a god.  And after flying, feeling untouchable, forgetting the infinitesimal problems of humans, who wouldn’t long to remain there forever?

I am grateful I never had the experience, never felt more than this.  Knowing my mind, I wouldn’t be able to resist.

I am noticing difficulty with scheduling time to do my meditations.  All week long they took place in the evenings, sometimes at ten or eleven at night, and I’d much rather have them in the morning before I start my day.  All in all, this is testing my willingness to make time for myself, and it’s a growth process to say the least.

Thanks to all who have shown interest in my progress with this, and by all means feel free to join me in your own way.  I’m thinking of creating a group meditation sometime toward the end of the three weeks.  Still just a thought at this point…

Yesterday was a different story.  I allotted time in my day to create peace and even though changes in plans threatened to steal it away, peace came regardless.  I fell into a fairly deep meditation rather quickly with little effort.  25 minutes flew by in a flash, and I felt accomplished.  Focusing on increasing time and efficiency this first week, and hoping that peacefulness infects all areas of my life.