Day One Hundred and Six

Day 106: 15 Nov 2010

I woke up under a whole bunch of what used to be a Winnebago. I was injured at some point, but I'm not now. The insect in my system makes me tougher -- not as tough as Travis and Jared -- but it also heals whatever damage I take over time. I get the feeling I might have died, but the insect kept me alive.

Vince and his crew don't have insects in them. They're dead. Almost the first thing I saw when I woke was their bodies, and they didn't move for several minutes. No breath, no movement. Dead.

I heard a low humming outside the wreckage of the trailer. It was the screaming, shrieking voice of the slugs, almost whispering. A low, raspy, droning chant. Some part of me -- the insect, probably -- knew they had begun the ritual to raise the God of the Skies. I could still try to stop them.

As I pulled myself out of the ex-trailer, I saw one of Travis' . . . I don't know, soldiers? Pals? Whatever he was, he had one of the M249 SAWs from our cache. As soon as he saw me, he opened fire. He'd been guarding the wreck. About fifty bullets slammed into me before I blacked out -- again. I knew I was still alive, but I also knew I wasn't going anywhere.

Not anytime soon, anyway.