Wednesday, 4 July 2012
Monday, 19 March 2012
I have started the second installment, which hopefully won't take as long as this. But don't hold your breath.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
Sunday, 11 December 2011
Sunday, 3 July 2011
I've not had much to eat this morning, I know it's bad to exercise on an empty stomach and all that, blah, blah, but I feel very awake, obviously after my initial tiredness from doing weights on an empty stomach, but I do definitely feel charged now. I'm going to tackle one of those zombie bastards today or tonight, I'm not exactly too sure when, but I do know I am actually going to face one. I have to decide whether it'll be best during the day time when I can see where it comes from or where I can run to, if need be. Or, maybe night time will be preferable, no witness if it does get a bit messy. Then again if I'm odds with my surroundings that could prove fatal, for me, not knowing where to take cover. The point is, I have to do this or else punch myself in the crotch, sit back and wait for the virus to get me.
This is it. The first step towards survival.
Holy Shite!!! What a buzz! I know I shouldn't be on a high, but I am. I can't help it and I'll try to type in a controlled manner but that was amazing! Right, time out brain. I am touching my heart....yes, it's still there. You'll remember my plan for an encounter with Mr. or Mrs. Zed?, well, this is how it went...
I did a few reps on the dumbbells, to get my muscles pumped up, and yes I posed in front the wardrobe mirror, it was a confidence booster then I got tooled up. I'm not saying it's acceptable to carry a knife on the streets of Britain, because it's not, and it's still very much against the law, however on this occasion a knife was very, very much necessary if I were to survive an encounter with a zombie.
I bid my time until 21:00 exactly then left the flat. I've rigged the front door to the electricity socket in the hall, for extra security when I'm out. I can get in without being shocked because there is another handle (more of a small latch) at the top of the door that is connected to the main handle. When this handle is turned it disengages the mains power from the handle, thus letting me in. No-one would dream of looking up for the other handle which, incidentally, is painted the same black as the door.
The streets are getting more and more busy by the day, with zombies at least. I'm noticing fewer and fewer actual human noises: laughter, music, talk, although there are more instances of crying and screaming, which is usually quite short lived. I stayed close to the parked cars, what little there are left, most have skipped the town before the road blocks really kicked in. I felt like a right loony, like I was a little kid again, playing soldiers with my pals. Every now and again I'd pop my head up over the bonnet of a car to look for a zombie, then I would scan the surrounding windows to make sure no-one was watching me make dick of myself. I still have some pride.
It took me twenty-five, maybe thirty-five minutes to walk along to the Academy, it would usually have taken ten at a leisurely pace, but I was taking no chances. I was ready to move on past the school when I saw something move in the playground, near the bins. I only saw a single figure and moved closer, all the time looking around, checking my back, surviving and expecting the worse, always looking, always listening.
The side gate was open so that's where I entered, as quiet as a mouse. It was a zombie, walking about in some sort of trance or something, but it...she just seemed to be walking from bin to bin, head down, bumping off one bin, turning round then bumping off the other. The skin was broken on her forehead but it didn't bother her. She looked no older than sixteen, and was still wearing her school uniform. She had lovely long blonde hair, only the front wasn't lovely and blonde, it was damp and red where the broken skin had spread blood onto it. I had a good look around before getting closer, I didn't want to chance one of those things taking me by surprise if they even had the element of surprise. I sure as hell wasn't going to take any chances.
It was quite a surprise when she eventually noticed me, even though I'd been creeping up on her. Always expecting, always watching, always ready to run or shit my pants.
She moved fast, faster than I expected. I don't know, for some reason I had expected someone with a dead brain to walk, ambling along giving time to think about how to avoid or engage. Not a chance, she fucking flew at me, teeth gnashing, screaming at me like I was the one that made her dead. I turned to run but my legs were like jelly and gave way. I fell and one of the knives I was carrying slid out my pocket, just as well or I may have punctured myself. I turned and she was on top of me, I grabbed her throat, keeping those gnashing teeth at arms length. I somehow managed to overpower her and throw her to the ground, then make for the knife. Bloody thing looked a million miles away. I managed to scramble to it, ripping my good jeans in the process, and turned to see a young girl throw herself at me only to land on the knife. It went right in through her throat and she fell to the ground. There was no screaming, no motion, nothing. But I took no chances and wasted no time in dragging her body and dumping it in one of the bins she and her split head were so attracted to earlier. She looked like a light thing. She wasn't, all limp and difficult to lift. I got my knife back from her throat, wiped it and hid it somewhere between the school and here. I can't say where because I'm still not one hundred percent sure that what I've done isn't murder. She was a zombie, but she was a girl.
I hate to say this but it was a buzz and a half. I'll lie low for a while, and return after a few days, see if maybe she's still there or....God knows what. I don't think anyone has been to that school in weeks and the bin lorry hasn't been round since...fuck knows when.
It's my fist zombie bag and I'm shitting it. I'm going to try and get some sleep, I need the rest before my heart packs in.
Sunday, 26 June 2011
Surprise, surprise, that woman that survived the pile-up on the M8 and ended up fainting all over the wine isle in tesco yesterday, she turned zombie. As it happens she did survive the crash but she neglected to tell anyone that she got bitten by one of those zeds that surged into the carnage of cars and, fresh meat. That may be a bit callous calling them fresh meat but, that's exactly what they were. If a zombie is coming at you and there's no way you can get out of his path, then you're lunch my friend.
A few genuinely clean survivors had seen the woman get bitten before pulling her arm back into the car, and scrambling out the passenger side. She clambered over the wreckage and flagged down a lift then made her way into tesco for a nice bottle of red nerve calmer. That's when I saw her.
The poor shop assistant didn't stand a chance. He must have had the most basic of fist aid training, which was certainly nowhere near enough to prepare him for someone dying then coming back to life again. Poor guy never stood a chance. He was still trying to resuscitate her when she opened her eyes and bit his lips off. The security guard arrived only to see the poor guy lying on the floor, with his throat open while the woman chewed happily on his left cheek.
You understand, this isn't my account, this is what they're allowing on the radio now. This time last year, it would have been “There has been an incident...blah, blah..” but now I think they just want people to know how bad this shit is getting, everyone needs to be de-sensitised to this escalating atrocity, otherwise we're all going to just run screaming at the first sign of a set of grey lifeless eyes. We're all going to turn an run, only to have our hair caught by the dead hands of the ever increasing enemy and have our brains as an appetiser and our blood as a delicious aperitif.
Suffice to say, the security guard bought it as well. People have no idea how to deal with zombies at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm by no means an authority on the undead but if I was that security guard, I would have stolen a pair of running shoes and fucked right off out of there. I'm in this game to survive now.
Anyway, body count at Tesco, Port Glasgow. Forty three, last count. The “situation” is under control.
I won't be going to Tesco, Port Glasgow in the foreseeable future.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
I'm still actually enjoying the exercise first thing in the morning. I just keep thinking on the results; the benefits of have a finely tuned body, a little more fit than just being able to carry four bags of messages (groceries) up the stairs without laboured breathing.
I passed the house where I'd seen that zombie kid in the garden. Most of the houses down his street have had their windows smashed in. I guess that means there's nobody home. Wonder why he's still there? Surely whoever smashed the windows would have seen him and thrown stones or bricks or whatever at him too. His face was all bloody, what was left of it. I think he's been chewing at the gate again, trying to break through to get at something. I kinda feel sorry for him. People are saying that they don't have any feel anything, pain, hurt, sadness or happiness. How do they know? Have the experts learned so much in the past months about something that has come out of nowhere! No doubt there's a lab somewhere with undead specimens tied down and primed for experimentation.