I don't know why I'm taking the time to write this.
Seeing as the internet has yet to come to a screeching halt, I'm guessing I have enough time. There's still television, for now--news broadcasts aren't giving much in the way of information--there's lots of speculation as to where people should go, how to get there, what's the official response from the government (none yet, the east coast is
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i always thought knowing a crazy libertarian gun nut would save my life. i could get used to this whole 'bearing arms' thing. once torfinn and emilie got here, we stole a couple Jeeps from the dealership nearby (other people had the same idea) and hightailed it to the coast. torfinn picked up some food in the western suburbs on the way out--things were just starting to get bad there. right now, we're holed up on some rich person's beach house. it's got a high stone wall around the perimeter, a generator, and--more importantly--a large pantry. damon, what with his crazy ass, wants to go looking for some motorcycles when we go scavenging for spare gasoline--I say a couple diesel cars would be a better idea; there are a ton of restaurants on the coast, which seems to have cleared out pretty quick. there are some walkers and lurkers, but not too many thusfar--anyway, damon can convert the diesels to burn vegetable oil, and we'd rather not use the jeeps for short-range travel since they're four-wheel drive and burn gas quicker.
sorry you haven't heard from your family--my mom and dad actually called me (first time for everything). Dad's paranoid ass was on top of things right away--they hooked up with all my dad's brothers and sisters and found a farm somewhere in east Iowa. My Uncle McKinley travels heavily-armed, so they'll be okay, too--but I don't know how far those walkers go. haven't heard from them since late last night--after we got to the coast. i hope they're okay. still no word from my sister in connecticut.
i'm glad you're safe, too. fifteen people in an apartment sounds not-so-nice. we (me, damon, damon's girlfriend jenny, torfinn and emilie) have cushy digs here on the coast, tactical high ground, plenty of weapons and food, but lord knows what's going to happen when the lights go out. we can't decide whether to migrate north or south. looks like you're just gonna ride it out; y'all got any cars?
shit, gotta go. Damon and Torfinn say they spotted an abandoned gas truck. I have no fucking clue where we're going to get the thing back here, let alone where to put it.
stay in touch.
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It's a huge apartment - four bedrooms, lots of space. It's nice to have people around. We had to take the dog out to pee but we could go in a group of seven so that was good. It's so quiet around here, it's redefining the term 'silent as the grave'.
We're not sure if we should head further south or just stay here, but apparently 81 is a warzone.
My roommate Jack tried to get back in. He had been bitten. We couldn't risk it. Oddly enough, I feel fine about it.
Do you think anyone will survive come to get us?
Be safe. Can you find a boat and head out to sea? Can they swim?
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Four bedrooms is a lot of space. The stone wall goes around the backyard, too--it's a sheer drop about sixty feet to the beach below, so we can let Bella out into the backyard to do her business.
As for survival--not sure. TV stations went kaput. We found a ham radio, and there's plenty of activity, but it's all scattered spots. It's been going on longer in your part of the country, so if you're trapped in a city, I wouldn't count on getting rescued. You need to get out of there.
Someone needs to go kill Jack. He'll appreciate it as much as you will.
OH! I suggested this to Torfinn and Damon and we tried it out--these things seem to work off of sound and smell. the latter is why they don't attack each other, so, if you have any dead ones (twice-dead) lying around, put them outside your door. Hopefully it'll cover your scent and keep them from wanting to investigate. We tried it while we were raiding a nearby store for batteries--Damon bagged a walker with his rifle, and we kept it out by the door while we messed around inside. Torfinn says the others ignored him, even though they could see him behind the glass door. None of us has the guts to try and rub any of that rotten flesh on us to see if direct scent transfer works, but that'll be the next experiment.
Looks like reading those back issues of The Walking Dead did me some good, after all.
Don't think they can swim, but we're not thrilled about the idea of cutting ourselves off from resources. Besides, we don't see any boats nearby, and we're going to wait and see if there are any more survivors we can pick up. Hopefully, there aren't any more like the guy at the car lot (see your journal).
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We shot Jack when he showed up. He's lying outside the door. Won't do us much good, though - we're up in the mountains now at my friend's cabin. We lost some along the way - they wanted to go north. Satellites are still up and running so I can access the internet but it's just...fuck. At least we're so far away from cities now, up a gravel road and in the middle of nowhere, that we might last a bit longer. My friend's got several guns and a lot of ammo (he hunts, just like Jack did) and the dogs go crazy every time we're near one of them. Hopefully, we'll be safe for a bit.
Did I ever tell you my worst nightmares were about zombies? Because they were.
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Damon and I were stupid--we managed to break into the police station here in this town and found a couple semi-automatic rifles, and I wanted to learn how to use one (shotgun's nice, but if I'm going to be standing guard for a shift, I'd like to be able to get 'em from far away). So we locked the place up (couple of 'em were still standing in the lobby--we'd taken an axe and a sledgehammer from the house because we didn't want to make a lot of noise, and dispatched them close-up. those things are disgusting, but far less-messy than I'd expected) and climbed up on the roof. I was just getting used to the kick of the damn thing when, seemingly out of nowhere, a ton of them just started walking up the street toward us. Must have been the sound, I guess.
Anyway, we (mostly Damon) dropped about sixty, but there's still more than half the crowd left. They don't seem to be able to get in, and there's plenty of ammo here to drop 'em all, but until then, we're kinda stuck. We're taking a break from sniping--getting food , and looking for a propane tank, gas can, or some kind of explosive--we're thinking if any other myths hold true, then fire might drive 'em off.
We got some group on the radio--they holed up in a power station nearby, couple of the employees are still there with their families. We'll have power for a while longer, thank god. Most of the walkers seem to be headed toward the cities--you should be safe up in the mountains.
I walked past the holding cell--somebody locked a walker in there. He's got a bite mark on his arm--must have turned in lock-up. Hope there aren't any more in the building.
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I think we're more concerned about surviving than fighting, which is all good and fine until one them ends up coming down the driveway. It was a woman from a couple miles down - she was bitten. This isn't good.
We're packing up the cars now - we're taking two, and heading out to Appalachia, to a park or something - just away from cities. Even if we're there, and they're there, we can probably take them. There aren't that many people out there, and the gun to person ratio goes up.
I'll check back in when we get there.
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we'd found a couple of propane tanks, but decided not to risk using them for fear of starting a fire we couldn't control. I finally found my stride in shooting, however, and we'd managed to reduce the crowd around the building to around ten, before two things happened.
it started when i saw the fucking mother and child. no, not a child--a fucking baby, at least what was left of one. she'd apparently turned, and, from the looks of it, she'd started to...eat...the baby, only she'd only partially dismembered it. It still had a head, and a left arm...
i lost it then, i admit--i puked over the edge, right on the pile of bodies now between the walkers and us. damon asked me if i was okay, and that sealed it--i was.
i lifted the rifle and hit the baby with my first shot. damon hit the mother. this was the first thing.
second thing--parts of the roof exploded between us. instinct made my hand shoot out and pull damon roughly to the ground. i felt the bullets whizz over my head, i felt the fucking wind, jesus...whoever they were, they were good shots. we stayed down for a cool ten minutes befor ewe started hearing the screaming, and more shots--this time a lot closer, and followed by the moaning of the walkers.
when i popped my head up, i saw two men below, mowing down what was left of the walkers and heading straight for the other side of the building, the one with the door. i could see they were dragging a chain behind them; i couldn't quite make out what was at the end of the chain. it was damon's turn to drag me with him, this time downstairs.
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we decided to draw them in. first, we changed clothes--we found police uniforms that fit us, and put on body armor and helmets--then we rubbed the blood and filth from the ones we killed in the lobby all over ourselves. then, damon unlocked the front door, hid behind it, and had me open the holding cell.
we ended up being right; the walker inside didn't pay any attention to me, crouched below the desk sergeant's desk, as he ambled into the lobby. his timing couldn't have been better; the gunmen burst through the door, took one look at him, and blew him to shreds. damon opened fire behind them, taking one out; the other returned his fire. I popped up then and blindly fired the shotgun before i'd secured it to my shoulder. the fucking thing smacked my shoulder like a ton of bricks when it kicked, but i was accurate enough to take down the second guy.
damon's okay; a ricocheting round hit him in the armor, but it had lost enough velocity that it didn't even bruise him. he got up and took care of the gunmen (bullets to the brain) while i grabbed the supplies we'd collected, some spare clothes, the gunmen's stuff, too (some automatic rifles, a ton of ammo and combat rations).
we saw what they were dragging behind them--the remains of a body. walkers had ripped it to pieces, but it was a black kid of maybe fourteen. what flesh was left had bullet wounds. something tells me those fuckers wounded him, then used him as a live decoy for the walkers to chase after. in a way, i wish we'd had the time to make their last moments more painful, but i suppose there's no time for proper justice anymore. more walkers were starting to show up when damon and i loaded up a police cruiser and sped back to the house.
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emilie was watchingg the back with amanda and bella. you're right, annie--dogs do go nuts around 'em--one was in a house next door, trying to get out a window that was just too small. torfinn took care of it while the rest of us were unloading the supplies--i'm so glad he and damon are such good shots. jenny was thankful for the automatic rifles; she's just as handy with a gun as the rest of 'em.
Torfinn and Damon set up a barrier of corpses along the outside wall while the women and i figured out our supply situation. we've figured out that we have enough food for at least two months, tons of gas even without the truck outside, so we'll hold off on looking for diesel cars and veggie oil until we have a better lay of the land.
torf says we can't stay here, and we're all inclined to agree--we don't know how many people are still here, and that wide-open beach leaves entirely too many things to chance. i vote for heading north--the walkers don't seem to generate any heat, which leads me to think they'll freeze solid in canada or alaska--but there's the issue of whether or not we'll freeze when we get there, even if we do make it. we'll look for some detailed maps tomorrow--for now, we're gonna lay low and try not to make any noise. it'll be dark soon.
i know this entry's been long, but fuck--life turned into a fucking movie, real fast. i suppose it's good for my sake there's an action component to it.
okay, i need to see if email still works. mom's not good with technology, but she might have sent something outt.
maybe my sister, too.
please let me know if you're okay.
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We headed out to the country, two cars, six people, supplies and two dogs, one per car. We saw a couple but between Tara in the first car and Justin in the second, we somehow managed to get past Bluefield and back into Virginia, to Gail's house on top of a mountain in the heart of Appalachia.
We thought there wouldn't be as many walkers there but we were wrong. Oh, god, were we wrong. They attacked the cars and somehow we managed to get past and up the dirt road, but they got one of our group but Justin shot him before anything could happen. They don't go for dogs - they're not after them, thank god, but still...
So we got to Gail's place, and she had all her guns out and her ATVs ready and we'd stick it out. We waited there for about an hour, then her son came home. He worked at the prison. I never thought I'd have to see someone kill their own child but...she did. Gail's tougher than I ever thought.
The satellite news said that guard units were coming into the mountains looking for survivors. They started firebombing the cities, starting north in Hartford and Providence and moving their way down. I know I should feel remorse at the loss of these cities, but I can't. Not now.
They're frac'ing for gas mines in this county, so we took a risk and blew one up way down the road. It worked. The guards came to check it out and they found us...and a slew of twice-dead walkers.
So we're here, somewhere in North Carolina. We got here fifteen minutes ago and I had to check in and tell you. I have no idea where my family is. I have no idea where anyone else is. They're going to head west, firebomb more cities because fire is the only large-scale way to hurt them (I don't want to think about nuclear bombs...) Round up your alcohol, molotov cocktail their asses if they get close, hope to god the flames spread since they walk in packs. The guard's looking for smoke as a sign of life, since only the living seem to have the brain power enough to set things on fire. I'd say something wicked about that but I can't. I'm tired.
The officer who brought us in said there were about 300-people here in NC, maybe more coming in from WVA. I hope I see my parents.
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There was an email from my sister--she was on an assignment for ESPN in Cleveland when things went to shit there, but she managed to get straight to the Guard--she's somewhere in michigan now. She says my dad, my Uncle Barry, and my cousins Jasmine and Matthew are there with her--apparently the farm in iowa wasn't as remotely-located as they'd hoped.
Turns out those bastards Damon and I encountered at the police station weren't alone. They followed him and I back to the house. We'd just heard the helicopter when Amanda fuckin' spotted 'em--sneaking around by the gas truck. Damon had one of them lined up in the crosshairs when the walkers showed up. We made it through the melee without firing a single shot--but more-than-a-few walkers on our tail. My guess is the people in the power station got some guardsmen on the horn.
I was pushing Bella into Amanda's hands when the bullets hit the side of the 'copter. I guess the pilot panicked, because the fucking thing jolted up, throwing me onto the edge of the roof. If I weren't carrying those two damn guns, I probably wouldn't have fallen into the trees. Hindsight, I guess. The copter took off--I would've, too. The walkers were coming out of the woodwork.
By the time I fought to the radio in the police station, the copter was out of range. I couldn't raise anybody at the power station; since I obviously still have power, I figured they probably got evac'd.
Something huge just exploded. I'm guessing it's the gas truck. Part of me wants to wait until morning to try and get back to the house, but I need food, and they might come back to investigate.
I'm worried I broke a rib.
There's still a propane tank in the station. I've got that, and some flares. I got the keys to the cruiser across the street. I just hope I can get all this shit to the car before they get to me.
I can hear them everywhere.
Wish me luck.
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