1 Pair of black rimmed prescription glasses. Rectangular in shape. They’re Coke bottles, you won’t be able to miss them.
Reward: If I’ve got it and you want it, it’s yours. I need those glasses. I almost gave Mrs. McCarthy a hug yesterday.
If someone had asked me a year ago what my greatest challenge would be if there were ever an apocalypse, my answer would have been a thousand times different than it is today. You see, today my greatest challenge is that I cannot tell the zombies from the humans, because I can’t. I mean, I literally cannot see them.
I’m not legally blind, but I am very nearsighted. Even with polycarbonate lenses, they’re thick. Without them, at ten feet, details are a fuzz and all I see are shapes. That, of course, led me to nearly giving Mrs. McCarthy a hug. If it hadn’t had that gardening rake nearby, well..well, I wouldn’t be offering a reward for my glasses back. That woman was as fierce in death as she was in life.
I’m trying to stay positive. I mean, I could be trying to do this in a wheelchair, or with diabetes. Rob McCordry over in Spencer’s Mill is in a wheelchair. He’s been staying in his enclave’s base and handling the radio, but he lives in fear that the house is going to get attacked and he won’t be able to get away.
I can’t imagine how Sam is handling this. His supply of insulin is getting low. There is an enclave that specifically scavenges for medical supplies for Doc Hansen. They haven’t found any more synthetic insulin for the diabetics in the Valley. Some guys are experimenting with harvesting insulin from slaughtered farm animals, old school. But, well, we don’t have that many pigs and even then we aren’t going to be able to store it and the processed meat in a cool enough place past May. I know that eventually I’m going to have to say goodbye to Sam.
So yeah, I guess it could be worse. The day my glasses went missing was a little hectic. It started when a Feral slipped over the wall. Alright, slipped is an understatement. It flew over that wall like a raggedy superman. I screamed. Joe screamed. I paused my own screaming to look at Joe. I’d never heard such a terrified, high-pitched squeal coming from such a burly man before.
I don’t know why it didn’t kill me. I was the closest to the wall, but it hurtled past me, knocking me to the ground, and sped onward to attack Joe. Maybe it was the noise? It didn’t have any eyes so the hearing must have been ultra sensitive. What happened next is a mystery because I was planted face first into the soil. There was a lot of noise, though. Shots were fired, and the shrieks. I’ll never forget that noise. It was inhuman.
Oh. Joe lived, by the way, and I still had my glasses at that point.
As luck would have it, the noise attracted a horde traveling through our part of town. Our wall isn’t anything special – just a backyard fence, made out of wood. They pushed past it like it wasn’t even there. By this point, I’d gotten back to my feet. I was disoriented (because the Feral had rung my bell with that body check), and quite suddenly standing in the middle a dozen zeds. (The smell is overpowering by the way. If my body hadn’t been completely paralyzed by fear, I imagine that I would have puked from the stench.)
Here is where I got an up close and personal view of what a pinball must feel like. I bounced between them, stumbling and stabbing as I went. Not that the stabbing did much good. I had a pruning knife on me at the time.
This is where my specs went missing. A woman without half an arm or most of her face made a grab at me. I dodged and was kicked in the ribs by Alistair (the clumsy ass). That move planted my face smack in the fleshy mush of a dead person’s lower abdomen. After that, the world went blurry. I kept fighting until someone grabbed my arm and yelled “No zeds left, you blind moron! Stop before you stab someone living!”
We checked the bodies, under the bodies and around the surrounding area for my glasses, but they didn’t turn up. Our only theory now is that we didn’t kill all of the zombies that were there. A couple might have gotten away. It wasn’t like I could see what what happening.
So yeah, if you happen to kill any zeds in the next few weeks, could you please check them for a pair of glasses before you dispose of the bodies?
Librarian’s Note: Helen eventually did find her glasses. She says that it was the most terrifying two weeks of her life.