Day by Day Armageddon

by J. L. Bourne

  We have also been studying the diesel generator manuals for this complex. There are large batteries that we had not noticed before in the back of the generator room, out of plain sight. Upon closer inspection, the battery gauges were in the red, not the green.

  John and I researched the meaning of the gauge being in the red, and found out that it meant the batteries had lost charge from neglect. We practiced the start up sequence, and then performed the real thing. It wasn’t until the noise was so loud that John and I had to shout at each other before we realized the implications of our actions. We rushed to the control room and John immediately switched to the camera at the main access doors.

  They were still there, and they didn’t seem to react to the noise. John and I were a small distance from the generator room here in the control room. It wasn’t loud, but you could definitely hear the steady hum of an engine. Satisfied that we did not unleash hell upon ourselves, we headed back to the generator room to monitor the battery gauges. They were steadily moving toward the green. It was only two hours before they were at full charge, and we shut down the generators. Main power is still holding, miraculously.

  In the back of my mind, I keep feeling the ripple effect of what that muzzle flash meant. Why would someone shoot at another human survivor, unless said survivor was trying to hurt them? I don’t see what joy another human being would get out of killing a living person in a world like this. Since January, I had definitely done my share of killing however; I haven’t had the choice of leveling my weapon on a living human. In light of recent events, this may certainly change.

  Amigos

  April 29th

  2305 hrs

  It has been a very uneventful few days. I have been checking the security cameras at regular intervals for any sign of irregular undead movement. I feel that the ones at the front access door are not totally useless. They will tell me if anything living gets near them. I consider them sort of my back up front door alarm. Considering the threat of possible living human aggressors, we spent some time over the past couple of days checking our physical security. We made sure to lock the hatch to the silo so that no one can climb down like we did, and get in. Still no joy on closing the silo doors. John seems to think that some sort of failsafe was in place to ensure that no one aborted a launch by simply shutting the doors.

  Bits and pieces of the old world keep flooding my mind. I am not sure the fate of the friends I once knew. Their names are all but forgotten. I do miss them. One friend owned his own company, and was a successful businessman. He had a wife and kids. We were close. Part of my mind wants Craig to still be alive surviving with his family, however the other part of me just wishes his death were swift, as I feel those that died quickly, were the lucky ones. My friend Mike was leaving for New York to attend a culinary arts school there.

  Ironically, the bullet that killed him was released from Hotel 23. This facility was the backup for the rogue bombers. I suppose I would rather go in a hot flash, than be torn apart by the hands of over twelve million undead. Duncan was a professional lounger that didn’t believe in working full time. I suppose he was the one that had it right. Instead of being a hamster on a wheel for his last days, he continued his mantra of just being Duncan.

  April 30th

  2010 hrs

  Heard a loud “thud” coming from somewhere in the complex about an hour ago. After checking the inside of the complex, we could not find the source of the sound.

  2342 hrs

  I’m hearing strange thumping noises from inside the complex. John and I are headed to check the security cameras now.

  Truth and Consequences

  May 1st

  1424 hrs

  The loud thump that was heard last night kept playing back in my mind. The sound appeared to come from inside the complex, however after a good inside inspection we found nothing. This morning that changed. We started hearing intermittent tapping, bumping sounds, again coming from inside of the complex. We again checked the cameras just to make sure. We checked the perimeter. John sat there for a minute and suggested, “Why not check all of them just in case?” I agreed and we began flipping through the cameras inside the complex.

  They all showed clear, until we reached the missile silo camera. The launch must have clouded up the lens, because it wasn’t very clear at all. John tried to switch to night vision mode, but apparently this camera was not designed for that function.

  We continued to watch. A large dark figure moved in front of the camera, blocking the view momentarily. Then more sounds coming from inside the complex. Whatever or whoever, was tapping, pounding on the silo walls. I decided to go topside and look down into the silo from above, avoiding the possibility of putting myself in a potentially compromising (deadly) position.

  I grabbed my carbine and started climbing the steps of the alternate exit leading to the helicopter pad, and the large silo chasm. The cool May air rushed in as I opened the sealed door. I stepped out into the sunshine, allowing my eyes to adjust. The first thing that caught my eye was the gate. It wasn’t closed. I walked up to the gate, and checked it for forced entry. Nothing seemed wrong, except that there was some dirt on the buttons themselves. For all I knew any of us could have pushed the buttons with dirty hands so I dismissed this and walked over to the gaping hole in the ground.

  Fearing that the gusty wind could push me into the hole, I crouched down into a prone position and eased my head over the side. Looking down into the hole, I found the source of all the strange noise from the night before and this morning. At the bottom of the silo, stood a mangled Air Force officer with his arm showing numerous compound fractures sticking out from his rotted skin. The hideous creature took notice of the shadow I cast below and attempted to climb the ladder up to his meal.

  I almost laughed at the creature as it attempted its ascent. I suppose the fall from up here broke its arm and dislocated its shoulder. It would put its foot up on the first rung and then fall backwards from lack of coordination.

  This undead former officer was dressed in exactly the same uniform as the two that were here when we showed up. Coupled with this and the fact that something had to open the cipher lock, I assumed the worst. This could suggest that these creatures may retain more than primitive residual memories. This officer must have been stationed here and succumbed to his death months earlier, only to stumble here last night and somehow remember how to punch the five-digit code to get in.

  Now came the task of disposal. I couldn’t afford the full on noise of my weapon being fired from up here. So I decided to climb down into the silo half way to shoot it. This wasn’t something I was wild about, but I would rather do it this way, than draw the attention of the legions at the front of the complex.

  I swung my legs over the edge and began my descent, weapon slung over my shoulder. At half way down, I held on with my left hand, and readied my weapon. The creature was rabid, and wanted nothing more than me to fall down and break my legs. I would be helpless as it devoured me. Thinking of this creature’s spite towards me, I took aim and destroyed it.

  I told John the news, and he definitely showed concern about the gate, and how the creature was probably the thing that opened it. I wanted to check its pockets, but I was in no mood to do it now. We would leave it there until tomorrow before we took it topside for disposal.

  May 4th

  2109 hrs

  My mother would have turned fifty today. All hope is lost at the prospect of my family’s survival. John and I changed the code on the exterior gate in the event we had another visitor. The day after our encounter with the “hole jumper,” John and I decided to check his pockets. Absolutely nothing. He did however have something that caught my eye. On his left arm was a nice new looking Omega wristwatch. No use letting it go to waste.

  The hour hand of the watch was one hour behind mine, due to this thing being unable to set daylight savings time. Other than that, it was still running accurately. It was an automatic and the movement of the corpse kept it al
ive. It was a nice find.

  I am going out to check the aircraft in the cover of darkness tonight. Played with Lara today. Took Annabelle for a walk also. I let them roam free while I repaired the weak barrier surrounding the launch doors. There was an open spot where the corpse tripped over it and fell.

  The wind shifted and Annabelle could smell them. The hair on her back stood up like a hedgehog, and she started barking. I pointed at the dog, and signaled for Laura to pick her up. It was pretty funny seeing little Laura trying to hold Annabelle while she wiggled. Enough of their world for one day, I suppose. Back inside we went.

  May 7th

  2036 hrs

  Although the sound of the evening rain cannot be heard from inside the complex, I know it is there, just like the moans of the dead outside. Thunder and lightening have dominated the sky for hours now. The CCT picture is crackling as the lightening bursts hit near the complex. I suppose no storm could be of harm to us under the ground, however, I bet a tornado could take down our perimeter fence.

  In between interference, I can make out the undead horde outside. Many of them are being blown off their feet by the wind, or being knocked down by the ebbing tidal wave of the other undead. Digging through the lounge area yesterday, I found a book titled “Oryx and Crake,” by Margaret Atwood. I spent most of the night last night, and most of the day today reading it. I suppose it sort of parallels my situation, in a weird sort of way. No need to go into it, I doubt anyone else will be reading it anyway. Sort of depressing I suppose. John and I have been hearing chatter on the HF radios. It is definitely not garbled, however it seems that the people/persons speaking are using some sort of brevity code. How optimistic of them to assume anyone gives a shit.

  Tara and I worked out together this morning. Push-ups, sit-ups, side straddle hops “We won’t stop ‘till our freakin’ heart stops.” That little line brings back memories of my Marine Corps drill instructor from officer candidate school. What a fucking hard ass. I bet the son of a bitch is still alive somewhere, making someone miserable at this very moment.

  May 10th

  1953 hrs

  On the night of the 8th, something caused the undead at the front of the complex to move away for a few hours. Watching on the cameras outside the front complex, I could see their attention diverted. Their rotting heads swiveled around in that familiar expression of food for the taking. The hundreds in view of the camera faded into the night. What they were after, I do not know. William and I have a theory that it could be the same person or group of people that shot at me in the aircraft. It only makes sense that they would scout this area, considering its obvious value for sheltering.

  More chatter on the HF band. I was able to make out the following words: Band, offensive, and perimeter. I am not certain the order they were spoken, or the context in which they were used, however they could mean many things. We have a few thousand rounds of ammunition from the weapons locker, but I don’t think we could repel intruders if we were grossly outnumbered. If they breached the complex defenses, they could defeat us.

  The girls have been learning how to aim the carbines, however I feel it necessary for them to get some actual live fire time with them to be at least semi proficient. It would be lunacy to do it anywhere near the complex, as it would only draw them to our position and they would see us flee back inside the fence. I will begin preparing for a daytime outing with Jan and Tara in order to make sure they can fire the assault rifles when the time comes.

  I overheard Jan teaching Laura some basic mathematics. I suppose with no school around for her to attend, it is not a bad idea for Jan to keep Laura learning. Annabelle is getting fat from lack of exercise and lack of real dog food.

  May 14th

  2209 hrs

  I took the girls on a little outing on the 11th. Hiked out about one mile around the complex so that we could see the main entry doors in the far distance. It was William, Jan, Tara, and myself. We took Jan and Tara out so that they could become more proficient with the M-16s that we had acquired from the weapons locker. Instead of wasting ammunition, we decided to aim for the undead at the complex for target practice. We eased inward toward the main entry area until we were about five hundred yards away, and within a clear field of vision.

  I was spotting with binoculars while William kept a scan behind us. The Jan and Tara were already loaded and carried extra magazines. It was now time for them to actually get to fire the weapons. They pulled back the charging handles, and I heard the clicks as they released, shoved the round into the chamber. They took aim. I plugged my ears with 9mm rounds, and pulled up the binoculars as they fired. With nothing really to aim at, they fired at center mass in the crowd. Through the binoculars, I could see some of them fall, while others had brown dust blowing off of them in places where the rounds hit. They weren’t the only ones here for target practice, it was MY turn.

  William, Jan, Tara and I waited as the massive formation of the undead began moving toward the location of the gunshots and away from Hotel 23. The girls continued to pick off the stragglers as I loaded the M-203 mounted to the M-16 I was carrying. I had never fired a grenade through one of these before, but I had carefully read the manual over and over the past few days.

  A group of at least three hundred was making their way toward our location, with a straggler here and there around the formation. There were more than this behind that group that finally got the picture something was happening and they too started our direction. The first group was about two hundred yards away when I fired the grenade. Not knowing the characteristics of the weapon, I over compensated and fired between the group of three hundred, and the larger group behind them. I killed some from both groups. The girls were still firing, aiming for headshots. William was still checking our flank, trusting us to be his forward eyes.

  I slid the second round into the launcher. This time my aim put the grenade into the center of the nearest group. The round exploded, and fragged at least fifty of them. The concussion knocked half of them on their ass. It was like watching dominos fall on themselves. Sure enough, many of them slowly lumbered back onto their feet. Now that I knew the capabilities of this weapon, and the girls had some real world experience with the M-16, it was time to head back. We disappeared into the tree line and circled back, hidden by the foliage, we returned to the complex.

  Trouble in Paradise

  May 16th

  1202 hrs

  We are now under siege. This morning at around 0530 hours we heard a loud noise from above and within minutes started hearing those familiar thumping sounds, very similar to the sound heard when the lone undead Air Force officer fell into the open silo. I lost count of the thumps.

  Must have been twenty, maybe thirty. John, Will and I went to the control room and reversed the surveillance recording to a spot on the hard drive just before the loud noise. On the screen we saw the source of the original noise. A tow truck, similar to the trucks that tow tractor-trailers, was chained to the cipher lock gate/chain link fence. I could tell the driver had put the hammer down due to the mud and grass they were throwing up behind the tires. The gate, and a ten foot section of fence instantly uprooted out of the ground leaving a fifteen foot open space in the fence. The tow truck was all but surrounded by undead as it sped off into the night. We could see them pouring into the perimeter, tripping over the destroyed fence section.

  We switched back to normal monitoring mode, but it didn’t do much good. I caught the last few seconds of seeing five men put potato sacks (or something like it) over the cameras. Why didn’t they destroy the cameras? The only camera left is the main front access camera. I assume they either didn’t see it, or the dense population of undead was too great in that section to deal with it. We hear intermittent sounds from topside, but really have no way of knowing what is being planned.

  I theorize that if we were to open the silo access doors, we would have a small army of beaten and battered undead to contend with. I can hear the sounds of their muffled poundin
g even now. They want out of their cylindrical prison. That isn’t entirely true. They really only want one thing.

  Another thing that is on my mind was why didn’t they just drive the huge tow truck right through the fence? It would have been safer than getting out and attaching a chain to both the fence and the truck. Unless —They were trying to minimize damage to the compound. John is working the main camera. He can see vehicles moving behind the mass of undead. Just when they get into plain view, they turn off the beaten path toward the back of the complex where we are. John counted six vehicles in all, excluding the tow truck. The sun was just coming up. Right now, it is quiet. It is going to be a long day.