The bus has a radio/cassette player attached to the front panel in easy reach of the driver. It was one of the bright yellow Sony Walkmans from the 90s that everyone and their brother had. It was obvious that this bus had been driven by one driver for quite some time. It was probably a local route. The route where the driver, whose name was Earl (it was on the Walkman) knew everyone’s name and their stop by heart. The kind of service that you would have been grateful to have prior to the outbreak.

We spent the days listening to the sweet sounds of the big bands. Benny Goodman, Duke Wellington, Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey; you name it, Earl had it. All of his cassettes were neatly labelled and worn with age. While it might not have been the first choice for many of us, the sound of the music took each of us back to a time where luxuries were boundless. It’s the little things that remind of our dwindling humanity. And the little things that make us all regain a small part of it back. We each thanked Bus Driver Earl by the taping of our feet, or the smiles on our faces, or even the grand gestures of conducting.

As we left the city behind and started driving southwest through Georgia, we were shocked to see the lack of congestion and no signs of the movement of people that one would have expected. It was like the people in Georgia never got the chance to fight. It was weird.

We kept right on going, only stopping to fill up the tanks when we needed to. We had no food and no water but everywhere that we stopped was completely wiped. Nothing remained. We were going to need to stop and do it soon. It was only a matter of time before we wouldn’t be able to function.

We have no idea where we’re going. We’ve tried everything and failed it seems. Well everything but finding an uninhabited island somewhere. I know that we can’t keep driving forever but now that we have a mode of transportation, it seems to be a good choice for us to head for Seattle. There’s no telling what we will find there but it might be the best option that we have.

The great thing, and I use the term great so very loosely,  is that in having to travel all the way across the country it leaves us open to finding something else. And I hope that something else presents itself. In Alabama, the situation looks quite different in comparison to what we encountered in Georgia. Here the travelling is slower going and the Undead are everywhere. They don’t appear to be exhibiting the same type of behaviour as the horde at the store in Savannah but it’s not like we’re about to take any chances.

We do need to stop for supplies soon. We need food, water and ammunition. Plus it certainly wouldn’t hurt to get some diapers for the little one. The small store that we had been holed up in was sorely lacking in the Baby Needs section and the poor thing was wearing diapers that were way too big for him. But in times like this, you make do with what you have.

The baby has actually been a bit of a godsend to be perfectly frank. He’s renewed the spirits of some and little Eduardo will never want for anything that can be obtained in a post-Apocalyptic world. His smiles light up the faces of those around him and the extra hands are more than Polly could have asked for. I can’t imagine what it must be like to know that your baby is growing up in a world full of the Undead. In fact, I wonder how many more newborns are facing the world today without the chance to know what it could have been like.

The Next Day