I guess I’ll never know for certain, but I’m pretty sure my mind just shut down at some point. My next recollection was of sitting on my kitchen floor with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, shivering. Chloe was lying down in front of me, a look of grave concern on her face.
It was dark outside. The kitchen clock on the wall ticked monotonously. It read 4:27am. In the distance, several blocks away, I could hear a car alarm wailing faintly. Chloe’s opinion of my little freak out was clear. She had defecated on the kitchen floor again and finished it off with a urine chaser.
I slowly got up and stretched my stiff muscles. My mind felt numb as I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the faucet in the bathtub, plugging the drain. As the steam rose off the water and the bathroom warmed up, I began to let go and relax.
I stripped down and threw my stiff, dirty clothes into a pile. Goose bumps surfaced on my flesh as I lowered myself into the scalding hot water. As soon as I could stand it, I submerged my body up to my neck and let out a long sigh. I turned the water off and closed my eyes, listening as the last drops from the faucet plopped onto the surface of the water.
Silence filled the room.
As I soaked in the warmth from the water, I thought to myself, “Enough screwing around. Tomorrow you pull your shit together and come up with a plan.”
DAY 9
I felt a little better when I woke up this morning.
It’s amazing what a decent night’s sleep can do for a person’s disposition. I’m still scared as hell, but that’s because I don’t have a game plan yet. I spent most of the morning just getting this journal up to speed. It has helped to write all this down. From here on out I will be consistent with my journal entries (I hope).
My house was a mess. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before now. After making a decent breakfast I washed a week’s worth of dishes, took out the trash again, and scrubbed the kitchen floor. I also cleaned and sanitized my bathtubs and toilet tanks. Never know when I might need to use them to hold additional drinking water.
I armed myself, and Chloe and I walked the perimeter inside my property. It’s been just dumb luck that I’ve survived until now. The gate to my walkway has been unlocked this whole time. I made a list of all the immediate repairs that are needed if I am going to fortify this place. I’m also going to have to barricade access to my neighbor’s back yards on either side of me. I don’t want to have another incident like what happened yesterday.
I saw two military jets fly overhead at one point, but other than that it’s been pretty quiet so far.
I looked over the fence earlier to check on the guy who fell into the pool. There was no sign of him. He must have made it to the shallow end and got out. The woman’s body is still there.
I will have to do something about that as well. I’ll probably dump her in the same place I dump this piece of crap generator sitting on my driveway. I checked the mailbox; nothing there. I guess the post office’s motto doesn’t cover pandemics.
No more mail is sort of good news, bad news. The good news is that I won’t be paying bills anymore. The bad news is that I won a couple of items on eBay two weeks ago…pretty sure I won’t be receiving them at this point.
I went up on my roof to get a better view of my neighborhood. Dale and Margie’s car is still in their driveway with the door and trunk open. I didn’t see any signs of my neighbors, or anyone else, for that matter. I wasn’t close to any of them, but it’s spooky to think that I might be the only person on my block who is still alive. I heard running footsteps at the end of my street. As soon as people appeared I ducked down and quietly got off the roof.
My house is finally in order and I have several lists of priorities I need to consider. Tomorrow I will barricade off access on either side of me. I will need to deal with the issue of gas, water, and power as well.
Those things won’t stay on forever. I am kicking myself for not picking up a propane heater and stove when I was at Ken’s last week. There’s a lot to do, but it looks like I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.
DAY 10
I was surfing through the TV stations this morning and found public access channel 56 was broadcasting.
It was a news report, of sorts. It looked pretty amateur. Some guy named Gerald Ritchie was reporting on conditions around the Los Angeles area. He was down in Inglewood on top of a building panning the camera around that area of the city. There were sporadic fires and destruction everywhere. The plague victims were running rampant. It reminded me of the Rodney King riots.
He reported that there are three evacuation centers locally. One is in Pasadena, one is in Thousand Oaks, and one is at the UCLA athletic field. The broadcast cut to file footage of fences, barricades, and military personnel around the UCLA field.
The footage was taken from outside the secured area. At one point several hundred of Them rushed a section of the fence. Multiple geysers of flame shot out from behind the fence, scorching the attackers to a cinder.
Gerald’s voice came over the images and warned that while the evacuation centers are secured and relatively safe, once civilians enter the facility, they are not allowed to leave. Military helicopters were taking off and landing constantly. Gerald continued to say that in an interview with a FEMA representative, he was told that there are plans to set up permanent facilities in the Mohave Desert and North Eastern California.
The scene went back to Gerald, now running down a city street toward a waiting van, his cameraman following and panning back toward a pack of Them in pursuit. They both made it to the van where a woman was in the driver’s seat, waiting. The van door slammed shut and the van took off. The cameraman was upended by the acceleration but quickly centered on Gerald again.
Gerald grinned and spoke to the camera. “This is Gerald Ritchie, reporting live from Inglewood. I’ll be back on the air tomorrow and every day at 12 noon. So until then, don’t give up, ‘cause you ain’t alone out there”.
I heard the cameraman whoop in triumph and Gerald’s hand went off camera to high five his companion. The signal stopped broadcasting. I stood in front of the TV in stunned silence. My clock read 1:06 pm. Gerald and his crew seem fearless. I think I have a new hero.
I went to work this afternoon with a renewed sense of purpose. I don’t feel so alone anymore. I armed myself and quietly went over my back fence into Dale and Margie’s yard next door. The gate to their driveway was secured. That only left their front door.
I couldn’t get in through the back, which meant that I had to climb over their gate and go to the front of the house. I had planned to just shut and lock their front door, but I got curious and cautiously stepped inside. The smell was horrid. I let my CAR 15 hang on its single-point sling and drew my 1911 Colt. It was better for close quarters and I was confident of its stopping capabilities.
Their house was silent. As I rounded the corner into their kitchen, I saw a body lying on the kitchen floor. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Brownish dried blood was everywhere. It was Margie, definitely dead. Her arm, shoulder, and portions of her back were eaten away.
I checked my six and moved back down the hall to the bedrooms. Two of them were open and I checked them first. No sign of anyone.
The door to the middle bedroom was closed. I turned the knob and opened it, stepping to the edge of the doorframe as I did so. The rotten smell hit me immediately. Just as I was about to enter the room, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, coming from the closet.
Before I could even react I heard a crash, and something shot past me in a blur.
I heard scraping and skittering across the hardwood floors in the hallway as something retreated up the hall. I turned in time to see Dale and Margie’s German Shepherd, Max, go tearing out the front door.
F---ing dog! Even from just a glimpse, I could tell he was just skin and bones. I could have taken a shot
at him (should have, because I’ll probably have to deal with him at some point later), but held my fire.
My heart was threatening to leap out of my throat. When I finally calmed down enough, I checked the rest of the rooms; nothing. I went to the front to make sure I hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention and then secured the front door behind me as I left.
It is only 3:30pm right now but I’ll check the other neighbor’s house tomorrow. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.
DAY 11
I think I’m starting to get a cold.
I’m a little panicked because I’m wondering if I may be infected. It’s mostly just a sore throat and stuffy nose. I’m not experiencing the “flu-like symptoms” that everyone was warned about. But I am, of course, concerned nonetheless. From all the reports infections have about twelve hours of incubation before they turn someone. I guess I’ll know by dinnertime.
I decided to go about my day as planned otherwise I would drive myself nuts. I went over my back fence into my other neighbor’s house, carefully avoiding the dead Mexican woman. The gate to the driveway was off its hinge. Now I know how the two infected Latinos got into the backyard.
I had to (quietly) lift the gate back on its hinge and reset it. Even then, it was still pretty flimsy. I couldn’t afford to nail a cross beam into place to support it, for fear of attracting Them with the noise. I settled for zip-tying the gate to the support post and bracing the backside of the gate with a 2x4 I found in my garage.
I dragged the dead woman around behind the pool and dug a shallow grave for her in the flower garden. The whole time I felt like crap because of my sore throat.
I went into the neighbor’s house through an unlocked window in the back. The house has been empty and up for sale for the last six months. It was completely vacant and I cleared it with only one incident.
A large rat had taken up residence in the kitchen. It hissed at me as I walked by it, scaring the crap out of me. I would have shot the little bastard if I wasn’t so worried about making noise. It begrudgingly crawled away under the counter.
It was a smart call not firing as only moments later I heard something (things) run up my street and start banging on a house nearby. I cautiously looked out the front window and saw them milling in front of my neighbors’, Dawn and Jon’s house, directly across the street from my house.
I went out the back window, crawled over the fence, and went back in my house. Chloe was frantic because I had left her inside while I was next door. I was a little worried about what would happen to her if I became infected. I pushed the thought out of my mind and went to go catch Gerald Ritchie’s report.
Like clockwork, the broadcast came on at noon. The scene he showed us was shot from on top of a building several blocks away from a parking area and football stadium.
There were thousands of people there in a makeshift tent community out on the playing field. The perimeter of the parking lot was fenced and manned by military personnel.
The camera turned to Gerald.
“We’re coming to you live from the Pasadena Evacuation Center. All morning the center has been turning away refugees. We witnessed several attacks by infected on civilians just outside the gates. The military did nothing to stop them. The situation is getting dire. If you are in the Pasadena area, do not attempt to go to the Pasadena Evacuation Center”. Gerald concluded.
The camera followed Gerald across the rooftop to the other side of the building. The camera zoomed down to the street below where Pasadena Police were confronting an attack from infected people. The police fired dozens of rounds into several dozen infected. Only a few fell.
The rest overran the police in seconds. The camera zoomed back out and turned back to Gerald. He looked visibly shaken by what he had witnessed.
He continued, “Most of Los Angeles County has been overrun with the infected. There are reports of the epidemic worldwide”.
Gerald went on to recap the same stuff that I’d been hearing for weeks. There was not really any new information to be had, but to his credit, Gerald continued to report the news anyway. After forty minutes of recapping the last weeks of events Gerald said that AM 1060 was still on the air.
I hadn’t even thought about turning on the radio. Ever since I got my iPod that was pretty much all I ever listened to. Gerald closed his report and the broadcast went dead. It wasn’t as earth shattering to me as it had been the day before. I guess I’m getting jaded easier these days.
I made lunch and then went through my book shelves looking for two books in particular. After an hour of searching I found them. They were; Paul Miller’s Boom, a book on manufacturing homemade explosives, and How to Make Disposable Silencers, by Flores. I bought them both years ago in my more paranoid days and hadn’t thought about them until just the other day. I went through Flores’ book and made a list of materials I will need.
It’s 11:30pm and, while I still feel like shit, I’m reasonably certain I’m not infected. I took my temperature so many times today that the battery in my electronic thermometer went dead. I was 98 degrees pretty consistently all day.
I had planned to let Chloe outside to take her chances if I got any worse. I didn’t want her to starve to death inside if I turned, or worse, get eaten by me. I’m pretty sure the lack of sleep and stress are the reasons for my cold.
The Infected are still across the street, wailing and making a ruckus. They are interested in something there. The last thing I did before making this entry was to string some white mini Christmas lights up in my bedroom. Sleeping in the dark is creeping me out. I haven’t had to use a nightlight since I was ten.
DAY 12
I slept terribly last night.
Although the Christmas lights were comforting, the moans and noises made from the Infected across the street were seriously disturbing. I peeked out the front window again and there are more of them than yesterday. I’ve counted fifteen so far. In a rare (and brief) moment of silence, I swore I faintly heard some kind of New Age Hindu music coming from somewhere.
I can’t imagine Dawn and Jon are still home. I haven’t seen any movement from any of my neighbor’s houses in almost two weeks. Whatever those things are so attracted to is a mystery that’s going to have to wait until later for me to look into.
My cold is still persisting but doesn’t seem to be getting any worse. I scrounged through my medicine cabinet and found some decongestants. Hopefully they will help me function a little better. When I looked in the mirror, I noticed that I am losing weight.
By contrast, Chloe is getting fat. Lack of exercise is our problem. I vowed to do something about that myself. As for Chloe, if I take her out for a run we’re both likely to get more exercise than we need if those things find us.
I struggled through my regular regime of stretching, 130 push-ups, two sets of 20 pull-ups, and 130 abdominal crunches. I don’t remember being quite so winded in the past. Of course, there’s the fact that I haven’t exercised in over two weeks, I’m sick as a dog, and I’m not sleeping because I’m in constant fear for my life that I’m going to get eaten. I will stay in shape from here on out, regardless. As for Chloe, I will hopefully find a solution for her soon.
While I was making breakfast, I looked out my kitchen window and spied two rats running across the top of my fence. I remembered the pellet pistol I had found and raced into my bedroom to retrieve it.
By the time I got it, remembered where I had put the Tic Tac box full of pellets, loaded the weapon and went out to confront the disgusting little creatures they were long gone. I hate rats. I put the pistol on my kitchen table where I will have easier access to it next time. I fed Chloe the eggs that had burned while I was out chasing rats.
My plan for today is to make a trip to the Do It Center for supplies to make sound suppressors for most of my weapons.
My list of copper tubing, PVC pipes and end caps, h
ose clamps, window screen materials, rubber gaskets, and several other items should easily get filled there. There are a few other things I need as well.
I went up on to my roof and carefully looked over the peak and across the street. It looks like a few more of Them have joined the party. I definitely hear music coming from inside Dawn and Jon’s house. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is, or why I never noticed it before.
Whatever’s going on, it has put a serious crimp in my plans. There is no way I am going to be able to open my gate, pull the truck out, and close the gate, let alone get back in my vehicle before those things are all over me.
I have decided to go over my back fence, through the property behind me, and onto the next street over. Hopefully I will be able to find an abandoned vehicle I can borrow. The Do It Center is too far away to walk to.
I have readied myself as best as I can. I am wearing the tactical vest I got when our company was competing in Paintball tournaments last year. It still has a faded orange splotch from where I got sniped in the back. Its pouches are loaded with six, 30-round magazines for my CAR 15, and my Blackhawk Small Pry tool is attached inverted on my back.
I also fastened my 14" bolt cutters on the Molle compatible straps. I attached my Camelbak water pouch and slipped an empty single-strap quick release backpack over it all that should hold most of what I am hoping to find.
I put my Colt 1911 in my Blackhawk tactical leg holster, which also houses two extra magazine pouches. The last items are my Mark 7 gas mask satchel strapped over my other shoulder with a cleaning kit and other odds and ends inside, and my single-point sling attached to my CAR 15.
I strapped on my Ontario RAT 7 camp knife and pocketed my Spyderco Endura just for good measure. I waddled around the house like a duck, trying to tie everything down so it wouldn’t rattle when I move. I must be thirty pounds heavier.
I am wolfing down my lunch as I write this entry. I noticed the pellet pistol on the table and put it in my Mark 7 bag. I poured out a handful of pellets and pocketed them. You never know. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.
100 Days of Death Page 3
