Journals of the Damned

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Journals of the Damned Page 14

by GJ Zukow

curtains with great interest at their actions. I heard some shouting and then they brought someone out of the house. The person they brought out had to be like seventy or eighty years old and needed to be helped out. I recognized the old man, but never really spoke to him, I can't even remember his name. I could see no sign of the infection on the elderly guy. The soldier "helping" the old man outside was almost dragging him. They rudely and roughly, at the point of their guns, made the old man strip off his clothes.

  I wasn't prepared for what they did next. I thought they would let the old man go when they saw he was clean with no sign of the parasite.

  The soldiers started arguing with each other while the frail, stooped gentleman held his trembling hands as far in the air as he could. What they were arguing about I couldn't hear. As they shouted at each other, one of the soldiers walked behind the old dude and pulled out a large knife. The soldier didn't just cut the man's throat, with his left hand he hit and pushed the man's head back by forcing his stiffened fingers under the man's nose, compressing the bundle of nerve endings located there. The old man instinctively moved his head backwards and the soldier rammed the blade into that part of the neck just under and behind the back of the lower jaw, directly below the ear. The blade was long and sharp and it easily cut through arteries and muscle. When the knife was completely through the neck, extending out the other side, the soldier pushed forward on the hilt and sliced open the poor man's neck from the inside. Blood spurted out both sides of the old man's neck and before he could fall the soldier adjusted his left hand. He grossly stuck his gingers in the old man's nostrils and yanked back hard, breaking the old man's neck. The head loosely flopped against the back of the spine. Bladder and bowels let loose then and the body stood there momentarily, jets of bright red blood squirting.

  The soldiers started shouting and pointing their guns at each other, and although I couldn't actually make out what they were saying, I knew at least what the killer was saying. The murderer had his arm's spread and the knife still out as if he were asking the other's if they wanted to fight about it.

  That's when the Abrams tank packed up and drove off.

  That's when I started packing up my backpack and a large duffle bag full of whatever I thought I would need if I had to flee. I tossed clothes, family pictures, food and whatever, including this journal into the bags.

  When I was done packing I returned to the window and nervously watched the soldiers. When I saw what they were doing then I started practicing aiming my rifle at them, concentrating mainly on the brazen murderer.

  As the blood covered murderer was dismembering his victim, the others started dragging looted Bar-B-Q equipment to the side of the APC and another shouted happily as he hauled a stash of beer from one of the houses.

  Just as I was about to try my luck at shooting them before they had their evil little party one of the soldiers came out of the back of the APC and started screaming at the others. The argument ended with three of the soldiers giving him a nasty beating. They took his rifle and sidearm from him and when he got up he went directly into the nearest house. As the others laughed at the beaten and bruised soldier, who they assumed went into the house to pout and lick his wounds, the roughed up soldier put a different plan into action.

  I watched and waited, deciding I would have a better chance to execute the murderers after they had gotten drunk and were sedated by the meal they were soon to eat. I had seen the effect the eating of human flesh had on the infected after watching my sister Lucy. They would be slow and almost numbed. It would be easier by far to start trying to kill the monsters later than if I started then.

  In a few minutes there came the sound of an engine revving followed by the sound of screeching tires. All of the soldiers looked up in the direction of the noise.

  In an instant a newer model Lexus roared into view (I recognized the car, the neighbor it had belonged to was really proud of it and had kept it meticulously clean and polished), driving straight towards those that had pounded on him.

  One of the maddened soldiers couldn't run away quick enough and got hit. I could see both of his legs snap at the knees as his body and face hit the hood of the car, then the body bounced onto the windshield, spidering it before it flew like a rag doll over the car.

  The remaining soldiers opened fire on the driver, spraying a hail of bullets into him. They continued to fire, stopping to reload, even as the car slowly rolled to a stop in someone's front yard. When the car came to a stop one of the group opened the driver door and unloaded a fresh clip into the obviously dead driver.

  Good I thought, I only have five of them left to kill.

  By the time the parasite crazed soldiers were finished with their hideous meal and were drunk and sleepy, nighttime was soon approaching.

  I slid the window open a crack, not wanting to shoot through the window. The murderer, the one I wanted to kill the most was standing, smoking and drinking, laughing with one of his crew. One of the group was almost sleeping at his post manning the fifty caliber mounted on the APC. The rest except for the murderer and a buddy of his were somewhere inside the APC, probably sleeping. Through my binoculars I could see he was sweating like the pig that he was. I watched happily as he stripped off his body armor. This was the best time to take my shot and I did.

  I was aiming for his head but my aim was off. The bullet hit him in the upper left part of his chest and he went down screaming. I tried to shoot his buddy too, but missed as he dodged into the APC. In no time the sleepy soldier manning the machine gun came awake and not knowing where the shot actually came from, just started spraying the houses randomly up and down the street. I guess the guy I missed told him the area I was in because he started firing at my house and the houses on either side.

  Bullets were literally tearing the house apart and it seemed a miracle that I didn't get hit. I crouched and hid by the back door, getting ready to grab my stuff and run. It seemed like forever but after almost ten minutes the gunfire slackened and stopped.

  I heard the front door to the house next to me getting busted in then, quickly followed by the sound of a grenade going off. I grabbed my stuff then and went into the bushes at the back of the house along the fence.

  I heard someone shout "Burn them all."

  Then there came the sounds of more breaking glass as they threw Molotov's into every house on the street, including mine.

  I jumped the fence into the neighbor's yard behind us and managed to take one last good shot as they burned my house. One of the soldiers had made the mistake of stopping and taking up a position between my house and my burning neighbor's house, facing away from me. The soldier was close and my aim was true. His head exploded like a ripe melon. At least I got two of them. They will be dead soon anyways. Even if I didn't start the shooting, I know they would have continued their house to house search and would have soon found me anyways. Better to fight them when I had the best chance for survival than for them to sneak in my house at night and capture me.

  Now I'm blocks away, hiding inside an empty house a friend of mine used to live in. I knew the place was empty before I broke in so I wouldn't have to worry about being eaten by a zed. The bank had foreclosed on the house and evicted them right before the animal madness had begun.

  This place may be empty but it's not secure. I'm going to have to find someplace better to hole up in until the dead lay back down like their supposed to. I hope it's soon.

  Wednesday, October 3, 2012

  How can I explain the sheer scope of the horror I have witnessed in the last few days?

  The empty house I had found refuge in was bare. No furnishings, no food, no running water and no electricity.

  I hadn't taken much food with me when I ran from the crazed soldiers. In all reality, there wasn't much I could take with me. Our cupboards weren't well stocked to begin with and most of what we did have required a stove. That night in the abandoned house, the only thing I ate was a single can of tomato soup. I didn't have anything
to add to it so I ate it straight from the can. It didn't taste very good at all but I made myself finish the whole can before I tried to find a safe place to lie down for the night.

  There were no curtains on the windows and any passerby, whether they be dead or alive, could look right in and see me. That was too great a risk so I made the bathroom floor my sleeping area. There was a window above the bathtub but it was small and opaque, anyone looking in would have to be an eight foot tall giant with x-ray eyes.

  As night fell the weather dropped and a cold, light rain started to fall. It brought with it a dampness and a chill. I had failed to pack a sleeping bag or any kind of blanket so I improvised by wearing three layers of clothes.

  I cracked the bathroom window an inch, not to let in fresh air but because I wanted to be able to hear better what was happening outside. With the bathroom door closed, and locked, I lay there trying to sleep, trying to figure out I should do next until I did fall asleep. Needless to say I didn't sleep well and when I did, I had unnerving dreams of my mother's and sister's ghosts.

  It was well into the middle of the restless night when I noticed the occasional, unmistakable flashes of light from what could only be a lighter. It seemed to be coming from the house next door

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