Journal of Paige Rehnaul - Part 5
Last night I heard somebody scream. When I went upstairs to check, I saw some people wandering the streets. But it was a strange, aimless sort of walk. Nobody spoke. Then I heard the scream again and I turned my head to a most grisly sight. A putrid thing of foul flesh dragged a man out of some rubble and disemboweled him. I stifled a scream of my own and quickly ran back downstairs.
All the commotion had caused my husband to stir and he stood up for the first time in days. But his eyes were glazed over and dull and his movements like the people outside. His skin was chalk white and his chest did not move with the rhythmic breathing of the living. Hands shaking, I grabbed the revolver he gave me and pointed it at his head. He did not talk; he did not even try to move out of the way. He just kept approaching me in a slow unsteady gait. At that moment I understood what wandered the streets outside and I clenched my tear-swollen eyes as I pulled the trigger.
I can't sleep anymore. My husband's body lies next to me, a hole in his skull. There is nothing left for me here. It's time to go before no hope of escape remains, before my strength has left me. I have to run until my legs can carry me no further; away from Valbury, away from my shattered life.