The dead graze like cattle; wandering back and forth but never leaving. As I look down I can see them shambling across the back patio. They congregate around the back door, they must know what it is or at least have the memory of it being important. There we go; just more evidence of residual memory.
I still worry, who wouldn't? Upstairs is so open, at least the front side of the house is. There are just so many damned windows. If they manage to get in the basement is the best option; it's a fucking
fortress, there's no chance they can get in. It’s concrete walls and the door is made of heavy steel with two giant metal crossbars jamming it shut. I even have an additional sheet of plywood screwed in across it. If I come down here and close the hatch I will be sealed in and safe. No windows, one door and concrete walls surrounded on all sides by Mother Earth. If I was going to be safe
anywhere it would be down here.
Day Twenty-Six
Yet another day, it is hard to keep track sometimes. So many days come and go; and many are just like the previous. I can only remember the month and date now because I mark it off on my calender...
Today is Thursday.
Day Twenty-Seven
The television signal finally went dead today, just snow now...not even the familiar EBS warnings. I know it sounds silly but I had gotten used to the warning message that constantly rolled across the screen. In some strange way it comforted me, made me feel like I still had a connection to the outside world. I tried to call Frankie again today but still not having any luck; I fear the worst.
Day Twenty-Eight
Lunch again today, same routine; boring and the house is so quiet. It’s like being in the belly of a sleeping beast; cold, dark and deathly silent with only the ambient light to brighten things. It's repetitive, I feel like an assembly line robot doing the same task all day; every day with no change or deviation. It's getting really annoying.
Day Twenty-Nine
Rick and I talked for a while today; longer than we should have, I know battery life is at a premium right now but I can't help it. Both of us are running out of things to do; at least he has someone to talk to and it's good to hear their voices. Amanda sounds pretty good. I think she is dealing with the situation better at this point. Rick says he eased her into it, just repeating the same things over and over again. He let her catch a glimpse out of the upstairs window so she could get an idea what they were up against and the reality of the situation. He said she was grossed out and unnerved, but otherwise seemed to be coming to terms with it, handling it as well as anyone could. I talked to her for a bit myself so she could hear a voice other than Rick's. It's a lot better having two people telling you it's going to be okay rather than one.
Day Thirty
Well this is a milestone, thirty days, thirty long, tiresome, nerve racking days inside this house. It’s a good time to re-evaluate my situation. Thirty days those monsters have scratched, gnawed and scraped at the doors and windows trying to get in and they have been wholly unsuccessful . . . GOOD. The house itself remains completely intact, with no signs of weakness . . . GOOD. I have been eating the most perishable items first; meats, breads, sodas and juices. I have survived by saving my most valuable items like water, beans and crackers for last. Rick is in good shape at the present time. Neither of us heard from Frankie though, that's bad but there is little I can do about it now. I know Frankie is smart and just as
resourceful as Rick and I, if I had to bet money I would guess that he has survived.
There has been absolutely no contact with the outside world, we haven't seen or heard from another living soul since the day this started. The food situation is acceptable so I am not presently concerned. I am still fine on other provisions as well.
Things are okay, but there are some issues that that do concern Rick and I. The continually growing horde of undead is unsettling. I have sixty of these festering piles rambling around the house; Rick says he has around a hundred. With so many I fear that by sheer weight alone they might be able to break through. You get twenty, thirty,
forty of these things leaning on a door or window it’s going to give way under the pressure. The main thing is they have no reasoning, concept of teamwork or organizational skills, so if they got through it would be completely by accident.
Day Thirty-One
Thirty days have I been watching, and over these past weeks I have made my own observations and come to some startling conclusions.
Depending on the level of decay these things still possess a wide range of capabilities. I've given them all classifications to differentiate them and their threat level. The first ones are what I call Creepers. Creepers have been dead a while, less than a hundred years based of the clothing that I have seen them in. Creepers don't present a big threat except in large numbers, they seem to have very little in the way of residual memory and they have no real strength to speak of. They just creep around with no real intention, aim or goal. They are by definition exactly what the contamination from this meteor does, reanimates dead tissue. Reanimation doesn't denote intent or purpose in much the same way a chicken will still run around for minutes after its head has been removed.
Day Thirty-Two
Well it’s another day here in the house with nothing to do. Yesterday I talked about Creepers. Let’s see, today I am going to talk about Lurkers. Lurkers frighten me, and I believe them to be the most dangerous. I don't care what science says these damned things have proven time and time again they have memories and they use them, maybe they can't think as we know it, but there's something there, Lurkers are a primary example. Lurkers are bodies that have been buried or in mausoleum's for no more than fifty years or so; once again the only way I really know this is by observing the style of clothing the corpses were buried in. They are pretty fresh (relatively speaking). They have a large amount of organic tissue remaining including brain matter, and seem more or less intact. They move quicker than Creepers, and seem to use residual memory more readily. They can spot prey and recognize structures...if nothing else.
I think the majority of undead around my house are these “Lurkers”. They don't leave because somehow they know that houses are where you find people. I've noticed Lurkers skulking around the corners of the house, standing motionless behind trees and shrubbery; even standing idly behind my truck. It’s almost as if they were waiting in ambush, purposely trying to remain hidden. I think it was a Lurker that got a hold of that unfortunate cat a few days ago.
Day Thirty-Three
Okay, so yesterday and the day before I covered Creepers and Lurkers. Today it's the ones that concern me the most. I call them “Walkers”, and for good reason. Walkers are fresh bodies, luckily I haven't seen many of these them though; of the sixty or so I have been able to count, only two of them fall into this category.
I think Walkers come about in several ways, perhaps the recently deceased that hadn't gotten the chance to be buried and simply woke-up. Some could be victims that succumbed to their wounds; there are so many possibilities it can be hard to know for certain. Walkers warrant extreme caution don't get me wrong they’re still dead and as such
they are limited. They still have fresh biological material, with most of that matter only in the earliest stages of deterioration, even muscle mass is still fully intact making them move quite readily. It's unsettling because they seem to be alive in a sense.
They are no doubt the fastest and smartest but they decompose fast, quickly falling into one of the other two categories. The Walkers make me think...they really seem to be right on the fringe between life and death. It makes me wonder if somehow this radioactive material could have a practical application. How many loved ones have I lost to cancer and disease? Maybe the radiation could serve a positive purpose? I don't know, say a cancer victim finally losses the battle to the disease; but once the patient is dead the disease
dies along with them right? What if this material could be used to reanimate the patient minutes or hours
later? Wouldn't they completely free of the disease?
*Days thirty three and four are missing, this was when Rick calls me with a serious problem and I ended up not writing for a few days as I had other pressing demands which you will read about here.
Day Thirty-Five
We have a problem . . . its Amanda. She has been rationing her medication for a while now, it's the stuff she takes to prevent rejection. I don't know if I mentioned it or not, but she's an organ recipient and she has to take medication every day. Rick says she has enough to last another week or so but that's. This is really bad, without that medicine she will start having problem almost immediately. I have been so busy thinking of myself and my situation that I hadn't given it any thought. We are going to have to do
something quick. I don't like this at all but we have little choice.
We aren't going to sit here and watch her die. I refuse to let those damned things claim another life.
Day Thirty-Six
Rick's getting ready to go. The closest drug store that will have Amanda's medicine will be in Panatauk. There's no other choice, it is either this or watch Amanda die; and that's not an option. She has enough to last another three maybe four days, but that's it. I told him to do his best to prepare Amanda, we can't leave her behind no telling what could happen while we are gone; no it's safer if she just comes with us. We are leaving tomorrow and I am scared as hell.
Day Thirty-Seven
Today is the day. This may be the last time I ever write in this journal again, we are leaving. The odds are certainly against us. It's thirty miles to Panatauk. All we can do is take it a mile at a time. I pray we make all the right decisions. I want to say this to whoever may find this journal, if you have come here looking for food, shelter and safety and find this place deserted you can assume I am dead and as such I will have no further need of the provisions here; and you are welcome to them. Do whatever you want, take whatever you need. There is food in the pantry and there is water in the basement. You are welcome to whatever you find, I hope it helps you.
Read this journal, there are some useful observations in it; learn from our mistakes.
God Bless.
*My journal ends her,. I did not take it with me. It wouldn't matter anyway, not like I had time to write while we were on the road. I am going to try and reconstruct the events that followed over the next several days as best I can. Please read on, I am going to backtrack a bit, overlapping the last few days of my journal. As I read back through it I realized that some of it was a bit vague and required additional detail.
Chapter 6:
Murphy's Law
“Bruce, hey Bruce you there? I was in the gardens when Rick called out over the radio. I had been tending it pretty regularly and expected it to yield vegetables soon. I was on the other side of the table, watering the vines. I ran around the makeshift planter’s box to the other side of the room.
Picking up the radio I blurted, “Hey, yeah I'm here...everything okay over there?”
“No, it's not, its Amanda, she is running really low on her medicine.” His voice, along with his anxious tone told me he was serious.
“Uh, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I'm surrounded…” I said in a scolding tone.
Dammit, couldn't he have told me sooner this was going to be a problem? I thought to myself.
“She's been taking half doses and stuff, we've been trying to ration it as best we can, but it's not going to happen, she's already been getting sick. We have to do something man, she ain't going to make it if we don'; I really need your help!” Rick was talking so fast I could barely understand the words.
“Okay, okay” I whispered, “alright...just shut up for a minute okay!” I needed a moment to think.
“How much medication does she have left?” I questioned.
I heard him rustle about as he turned and spoke with Amanda. She was far from the radio when she answered, but I could tell that she didn't sound so hot. Her response was muffled so I couldn't make out all of what was said, just that she sounded weak.
A moment or two later Rick responded.
“She has about three days left if she takes full doses”, he replied.
“Okay listen, I need a little bit to think, just...” I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. “I'll call you back in about thirty minutes okay? We will figure something out.”
“Okay thanks”, Rick knew what he was asking. He knew as well as I that we were most likely going to die, with our chances of coming out of this alive slim to nothing.
Closing the door to the bright, almost cheerful garden room I walked into the still darkness that was the rest of the house. I pulled a chair out from under the dinner table. I sat there staring up at the ceiling with my arms outstretched in front of me as if I were praying; and I won't deny that I wasn't. For twenty minutes I just sat thinking, thinking and listening to those damned creatures outside.
It pissed me off it was a situation that could have been avoided. As I reconsidered the situation I realized it wasn't anyone's fault. There was nothing Amanda could have done. My god, it had all happened so fast that we barely had time to get to home before the shit hit the fan; it was that quick. It was just one of those things, but it still didn't make the idea of dying any more acceptable or appealing.
I knew there had to be a way to do this without ending up as fodder inside the belly of a rotting corpse. The problem was getting out of the house unnoticed and getting to Rick and Amanda. I ran various scenarios through my mind, soon an idea started to emerge. I knew my house, where I could go and where I couldn't but Rick's was a different story. I knew his house but could only guess at its present condition. He had twice as many of those damned ‘things’ to deal with as I did, if his estimates were accurate. It really didn't matter, no matter what we did it was all going to be risky and the longer we waited the worse off we would be. I decided to go ahead and call Rick with the plan I had come up with.
My hand was shaking as I thought about what I was going to tell him. “Rick, you there?”. My finger came off the button as I waited....
“Yeah, I'm here.”
“I want you to take a deep breath and listen close, we only have one shot to do this right. First I need to know what your situation is, how many of those things have you got out there? I need to know Amanda's condition; tell me everything.”
“Alright, there's um...... 'bout a hundred of those fuckers outside, most of them are in the front yard. Amanda is tired and nauseous, but she can make it,” he said.
“Okay, here is what I want you to do. Get Amanda on her full medication; we need her as strong as possible. You are going to have to prepare her; she is going to have to face these things and we don't need her freaking out on us, we will have enough to deal with as it is. I want you to get a backpack and stuff it full of everything you need, and make sure you bring your twelve-gauge; you got me so far?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I got you.”
“Alright now, does that side window by the kitchen still work?”, I questioned.
“Yeah, it does” Rick answered.
“Have that window ready, when I get to your house I am going to drive slow to draw their attention away from the house; see if I can't get them to start coming towards me. Then once they change direction I am going to floor it and loop around to that window. You will have to bail out quick. I’m not going to have enough time to wait for you, you have to be ready to go understand? You’re going to jump into the bed. As soon as it's safe I will get you inside the cab. Oh, and make sure she brings those prescription bottles so we can match them up...”
“Okay, I got it.”
“Alright we are doing this tomorrow morning around 11:00am okay? But please get Amanda ready!” I told him.
“I will, I will...we'll be ready,” Rick promised.
“Okay, I'm going to go and start getting myself ready. If you need anything let me know.”
“I will, and uh....thanks man.” Ric
k said thankfully.
“No problem.”
Then, silence.
As I put the radio down I looked out across the house. It was dark, quiet and rather peaceful; except for the moans drifting in from outside. I walked through the house, upstairs, downstairs, living room and even into those rarely used bedrooms. Looking at what I had built over the years; all the scrimping, saving and hard work. I knew for certain that I would never see this place again. I felt like all I had done was for nothing; but my friends needed me and I wouldn't turn my back on them.
I sat down to dinner and had myself a feast, a last supper of sorts. It could very well be the last meal I had. I splurged having a full can of soda, a can of beans and a pack of snack cakes that I had been saving for a special occasion. As I ate I realized I had to come up with a plan of action for getting out of the house unseen. I had given plenty of thought about how I was going to get Rick and Amanda out, but none to myself.
Zombies! Rising from the Dead Page 8
