Ex-Communication by Peter Clines (ink book reader TXT) 📗

was like that for two or three hours at least. I’d run and stop and there’d be another ex, so I’d run again. I’m lucky I’m in good shape. If I hadn’t been a runner already I would’ve gotten tired and they would’ve gotten me. There were so many of them.

I think I’ve found a safe place for now. After running around for a while I found some tall rocks. There were one or two exes around them, but none up on them. I don’t think exes are good climbers. I ran between two of them and got up here. I looked around and found a nice little space between some boulders. It’s like a little canyon with one entrance. I can put my back to the wall and watch the opening. I think I could shimmy up to the top if I needed to get out, too.

I’m not sure where the place I woke up is from here. I was just running around dodging zombies for so long and I didn’t keep track of directions. It could be right by this rock or miles away. I ran a half-marathon right after New Year’s and I think I ran at least that much getting away from all the exes.

I got up on top of the rocks and looked in all directions, but I don’t see any lights. I don’t see any lights anywhere except the stars and the moon.

I don’t know how I ended up here. I mean, out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere here. I remember I was in the car with Mom—we were going to meet up with Dad somewhere safe—and then I woke up and someone was shooting at me. I don’t remember falling asleep, or even being sleepy.

My clothes are shredded!!! Really totaled. Janine has those retro rocker jeans she wears sometimes with like two dozen rips and tears in them, but they still cover more than my pants do right now. The seat of my jeans is gone and my ass is hanging out. No wonder I’m cold. I wish I’d listened to Mom and not worn a thong.

My shirt and coat aren’t much better. One of my sneakers is gone and the one that’s left is all sticky with something black. My bra is more or less in one piece, so my tits aren’t on display. Not much, anyway.

The coat has big pockets. The left one is torn open. It had some lip gloss, my house keys, and my phone. They’re gone. The other one had my diary and two pens. I’ve still got those, obviously.

It’s like someone let a bunch of dogs play with my clothes while I was out cold and then dressed me back up in them. I’m wearing rags. And I’ve got sand in a bunch of itchy places from rolling around on the ground but I really don’t want to take my clothes off so I can shake them out, even though there’s nobody around.

OMG Todd in sixth-period English would jizz himself if he saw me like this!!!

God, I actually wish that little creeper was here. Or anyone. I’d rather have someone staring at my tits and ass than just being out here alone.

I’ve got no idea where Mom is. We were supposed to be together, that’s all I can remember. Dad wanted us safe and together.

I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where they are. I don’t have any food or water. I barely have clothes.

I need to figure out what I’m going to do next.

July 28th, 2009

Dear Diary,

There’s enough light from the moon to write this, so I’ll try to get it all in order.

I woke up and I didn’t know where I was.

I was between some big rocks out in the middle of nowhere. All my clothes are ripped up so much I’m almost naked. One of my shoes is gone.

I don’t know how I ended up here. I remember I was in the car with Mom—we were supposed to be joining Dad somewhere safe—and then I woke up tucked in between these rocks. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

Writing it like that makes me sound calm and stuff, but really I kind of freaked out. I mean, WTF waking up somewhere different. Realizing maybe people did stuff to you. It didn’t feel like anyone had

I crawled out between the rocks and ducked back in. There were a couple of zombies ex-people out there. They didn’t see me. I tried to remember some of the reports I’d seen, and I don’t think they look around much. I was high enough up they wouldn’t notice me if I didn’t make too much noise.

How did I end up out here—wherever the hell here is—with the zombies???

My bra covers more than a bikini top, so I took what was left of my shirt off and used it to cover my ass. It’s my little butt-cape right now. I figured I still had what’s left of my coat to keep the sun off my top.

I took off my shoe, too, and tied it onto one of my belt loops with the laces. I might as well keep it in case I find the other one. Socks in the sand will be okay for now. I didn’t want to be lopsided if I had to run.

The big pocket on the left side of my coat got torn open somewhere. I’ve lost my phone, plus my keys and some lip gloss. I looked around but couldn’t find them anywhere. The other pocket’s still fine. It had my diary (I’m writing in it) and some pens (I’m writing with one of them).

I climbed up on top of the boulder and looked around. I couldn’t see anything in any direction. It was so bright my eyes hurt. I wish I had sunglasses. I had to squint and shade them just to see anything. But there’s no buildings or cities or anything as far as I could see. Just sand and dirt and a few zombies exes wandering