Midnight (Adrian's Undead Diary)

by Chris Philbrook

  ADRIAN’S UNDEAD DIARY

  Chris Philbrook

  Book Three

  MIDNIGHT

  Adrian’s Undead Diary: Midnight

  Copyright © 2011 Christopher Philbrook

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America

  First Publishing Date March, 2011

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design and interior layout by Alan MacRaffen

  For George Romero, the primary father of the modern zombie genre.

  Most of the inspiration for writing Adrian's Undead Diary came from staying up late with my adolescent friends watching George's imagination play out in his movies, and then writing up our survival plans. I cannot overstate how much on an impression his work had on me. If anyone likes AUD, they should say a small thank you to Mr. Romero, and the people that worked with him on all those movies.

  Thanks George.

  -Chris

  Also by Chris Philbrook:

  Elmoryn - The Kinless Trilogy

  Book One: Wrath of the Orphans

  Coming Soon:

  Book Two: The Motive for Massacre

  Book Three

  Adrian’s Undead Diary

  Book One: Dark Recollections

  Book Two: Alone No More

  Book Three: Midnight

  Coming Soon:

  Book Four: The Failed Coward

  Book Five: Wrath

  Book Six

  Book Seven

  Book Eight

  TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  Auburn Lake Preparatory Academy map

  DECEMBER 2010, Continued

  December 28th

  December 30th

  JANUARY 2011

  January 2nd

  January 3rd

  January 5th

  January 6th

  January 8th

  January 10th

  January 11th

  Midnight

  January 13th

  January 15th

  January 17th

  January 18th

  January 19th

  January 21st

  London

  January 23rd

  January 25th

  January 27th

  January 29th

  January 30th

  January 31st

  FEBRUARY 2011

  February 1st

  February 2nd

  Guilt

  February 4th

  February 6th

  February 7th

  February 9th

  February 11th

  February 13th

  February 14th

  February 16th

  February 18th

  February 19th

  February 20th

  Tyrant

  February 22nd

  February 25th

  February 27th

  MARCH 2011

  March 1st

  March 3rd

  About the Author

  Additional Online Content

  AUD Merchandise

  December 2010

  Continued

  December 28th

  All quiet today. In fact, the snowfall the past few days was so bad, we were 100% certain early on this morning we were safe for the day, so we put Operation: Gilbert into action.

  Gilbert has been sitting in his car on Prospect more or less since Christmas it seems. Little to no breaks. I’ve kept him in gasoline so he can keep his car running to stay warm. The good news is he’s a great sentry. The bad news is he’s gone through quite a bit of gasoline. At dawn this morning he showed up on foot here at Hall E. The snow is too deep for him to drive his Buick anymore. I gave him the keys for the Chevy truck from the second to last house I cleared on Prospect Circle. He looked like he felt guilty about taking the truck, but these are bad times, and it’s a superior vehicle to his Buick.

  So with all of us geared up for our dreaded impending assault, we decided we were probably safe. It didn’t make any sense to us that they’d risk car accidents trying to get here. Even if they had a good state plow, it made far more sense to wait a day or two for the wind to settle down and for the roads to clear. Can’t understate how bad this storm has been here. Who knows if we’ll have a sudden warm spell in two days and half the snow will melt naturally anyway.

  Military theory teaches you to assault at the time and place your enemy would least expect you. If your enemy is perched on a cliff, climb the cliff. If I think that way, then they SHOULD assault right now. It’s the least likely time any sensible person would attack. But, things are different now. We can’t afford to take risks like we have infinite resources, and neither can they. As I said, I think we all believed that we had today to plan, and it turned out we did.

  Gilbert sprung his plan on us early today, and we spent the day putting it into motion. We can’t move at all around campus using vehicles. We can’t move around for shit on Auburn Lake or Prospect either. Chuck, Abigail and I all walked through a foot of snow down to the maintenance barn first thing and got the snowplow on the dumper. I’ve never driven a truck with a snow plow attached before, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out. I ripped up quite a few curb stones clipping them with the plow edge, but that shit’s nothing in the big picture.

  I plowed the campus main streets while the Williams clan shoveled out the bridge and the two vans. Chuck and Randy got the vans moved out of the way, and according to Gilbert’s plan, we plowed a single, gentle, wavy path all the way down Auburn Lake Road, stopping about 50 yards from the stop sign and gas station area. We all worked together to hoof it in the snow through the woods to come up behind the gas station to refill our fuel supply.

  The weather here is a mixed blessing. The wind blowing covers our tracks in the snow within seconds, but it’s cold and fucking miserable when we’re working outside. It only took us two trips from gas station to truck to get all the tanks filled. Gilbert and I discussed the pros and cons of the campus as sanctuary to finalize this temporary plan as we worked.

  Pros: Off the beaten path. Only ways onto the campus are the bridge, and a few dirt trails that are now snowed over big time. Not visible from the roads. Excellent shooting positions in elevated structures, as well as rocks/hills. Single approach for vehicles.

  Cons: Only way out is the bridge, or snowed over dirt trails. We’re off the main roads so fast escapes are unlikely. Single exit if something happens. Fuel is four miles away.

  Those two lists seem similar to you?

  Gilbert and I agreed that overall we are in a good position. We specifically didn’t plow Prospect out because we didn’t want to tip our hat to anyone coming up the road that Gilbert’s house was there. That’s why we got the snowmobiles this afternoon. Remember the two machines I found before Cujo ate my leg? There’s plenty of snow to drive them around now. We fueled them up good, moved one to campus, and gave the other to Gilbert so he could move around through the woods and stay off the roads.

  Gilbert’s plan is pretty damn good, especially if you follow his logic. Because we have a single effective entrance and exit to the campus and general neighborhood, we can’t destroy the road. Otherwise, we’d dig some major moat type troughs, and let them drive their asses into them. Surprise motherfuckers, medieval defenses on your ass.

  But that’s not an option, especially in the short term. However,
we can certainly put stuff ON the road. Remember those old spike strips cops used to prevent fleeing cars from escaping? Gilbert drew up a design for some simple ones, and we made them today. Using the raw wood stock from the house with the woodshop on Prospect we went into the gym and used the dude’s tools to make them.

  You’d think it’d be complex, but it isn’t. We took four sheets of the 4x8 plywood, and sawed them into 2 foot by 8 foot lengths. We then hammered through 10 penny construction nails spaced about 3 inches apart. We took nylon rope, which we’ve had a ton of, and ran about 50 feet out of a drilled hole so we can drag the sheets sideways similar to how cops yank on spike strips. Chuck, Gilbert and I got the eight sheets done in about an hour. We loaded them into the dumper and drove them out. We needed to place them in the road somewhere strategic. With no guarantee they’ll drive down the center of the road, using the eight sheets we staggered them in a zig zag fashion. The sheets cover the entire road from side to side, and are packed into an area about 30 feet long. There’s no way a vehicle can make it down Auburn Lake road between Prospect and campus without losing at least one tire to the nails. We slid them under the snow right from the edge of the road on the parts of the road that didn’t get plowed earlier. You can’t even see the sheets under the snow. Plus, the wind drifts in the snow make the plowed areas look natural now, so more than likely, anyone driving in won’t notice anything.

  Where they’re positioned they’ll go flat right near the area I’ve been setting up as my shooting position, and it’ll allow Gilbert to approach from the rear on his snowmobile. My kill zone. The idea is they drive in, go flat, and hopefully back out and limp home with just their cars busted up. If they get out and make a fight, Chuck and I lay into them from inside the tree line from cover with my Savage, and him with the shotgun. Gilbert drives into the road from the rear and lays down flanking fire with his .45. It's not perfect, but hopefully it'll send the message we need to send.

  If they throw up their hands, we tell them to never come back. If they don’t, and push the matter, we kill them all, and let the rest of them back in Westfield wonder for fucking ever what happened to their hit squad. One way or the other, they leave in a single vehicle, and leave all firearms and gear behind. Spoils go to the victor, right?

  Oh shit, the best part. At Chuck and I’s position we pre-cut four trees to fall directly into the area where the cars will come to a stop. If we have to, and it becomes necessary, Charles and I both have chainsaws. With about ten second’s time, we can bring down all four trees right on top of them. Might hurt them, might not, but it’ll definitely block the road, and without a doubt fuck up some of their vehicles. As it turns out, Gilbert can be a vindictive bastard. Love this guy more every day.

  I’m goddamn exhausted. Charles and Gilbert were done an hour ago and passed out on the couches down in the living room. I just got out of the shower and cleaned up both of my wounds. My fucking forehead keeps splitting open. I had to stop and throw on a bandana to get the bleeding to quell at least ten times today. Luckily the bleeding is keeping the wound clean, and with the butterfly bandages on it right now, I think I’ll be fine. The real bitch is when it does bleed it goes right down into my left eye, which obviously fucks up my vision. And between you and I Mr. Journal…. You know exactly when it’ll bust open again, right?

  The leg is good. Even though I’ve been active as hell the last few days I think I’ve crossed the last healing threshold. The scabs are superficial now, and it’s mostly just a sore, pink collection of tooth wounds. Despite almost buying the farm hitting the pharmacy a few weeks ago, it was so worth it. Of course, here I am, from frying pan into the fire.

  Sigh.

  This is going to end badly, I can feel it. I’m sitting here in my room again thinking over everything trying to visualize all the possible outcomes, and no matter what happens, I come back to people dying. Not just us killing them, but one of the five people I’ve recently taken in getting killed. Not cool at all.

  If Gilbert dies, I think I’ll straight up lose my fucking mind. I don’t know why, but I just love that guy. He reminds me so much of my dad it’s not funny. Plus he and I see eye to eye on almost everything. We bounce ideas back and forth and work well together.

  If one of the kids dies… Patty and Chuck will straight up fold. Chuck is just barely staying on course with Gilbert and I, and if he’s subject to any additional stress, I think he’ll snap. And Patty. Well, I’ve never been a mother, but with the state of the world right now, were I to lose a child… I can’t even fathom the agony.

  I see this as lose-lose. If we come out of this entirely unscathed, we still had to kill living people to survive. We still had to stay in harm’s way unnecessarily to stay alive one more day.

  This is life now.

  Sigh.

  As it turns out, Chuck is pretty fucking smart. He’s some kind of engineer, a useless kind now, but he’s really bright. Always thinking outside the box, which is a really nice trait to have kicking around here. We were talking right before he and Gilbert passed out, and we decided we’d get Hall A setup with the wood stove we found. Of course when I bitched about how heavy it was, and how impossible it’d be to get moved, he sits there, chewing his lip for a minute, and then asks if there are any garages around. I say yes, and he says well shit, no problem then.

  I’m like… wtf? He says we can just use one of the engine lifts to get it moved around. Why the fuck didn’t I think of that? We can tow the engine lift with a truck, or the four wheeler all the way back here to campus, and get the thing inside with minimal effort, all things considered. He says he knows how to reinforce the floor, and get it insulated. All we need is stovepipe and the tools, and I think we can salvage the pipe from the house where the stove is at now. Gilbert thought he might have a few lengths of pipe at his place too.

  Once everything simmers down here, we’ll get that taken care of. We can get the generator moved from the gym over to Hall A so there’s electricity for them there. Then we’ll have two full dorms ready to go.

  Otis is in kitty heaven. He’s not dead, relax. He’s gone from sporadic attention from just me, to a never ending stream of chin scratches and back scratches. Abby and Randy keep him entertained all day when we’re not busy, and I think Patty has officially adopted him as child #3. Apparently their family dog was killed right after that day when it escaped out the door, and was eaten by the dead. Patty cried when she told me that story.

  Man I’m tired. I think I’m gonna crash here Mr. Journal. I think I covered everything I intended to, but we’ll see. Tomorrow morning at dawn we’re moving back out to spend the day in our ambush hides in the event we get jumped. I don’t know what to hope for. Mentally we’re getting close to the breaking point with all the waiting. A few more days of this and we’ll be at each other’s throats.

  I hate to say this, but I am kinda hoping the shit hits the fan, because at least then we won’t be worried about them coming for us anymore.

  We’ll just be worrying about burying the dead.

  -Adrian

  December 30th

  The first wave came today. It won’t be the last.

  My hands are shaking like a leaf right now. It’s taken me an hour to get just these first few sentences out. Jesus I’m so amped up on adrenaline right now it’s not even funny. I’ve gotten so used to killing zombies I’m not getting the rush out of doing it anymore, but holy shit.

  Deep, slow breathing. Inhale. Exhale.

  Little better.

  The 29th was a very nice day. The weather held firm for us from an hour before dawn all the way to about dusk. The waiting is horrible though. I was back in my sniper hide in the tree line the entire day and didn’t take any breaks at all. I don’t think Chuck took any breaks in his hiding spot either, and I know Gilbert didn’t take any breaks.

  We got setup damn early on the 29th because we were expecting them to show up at dawn, which is a typical time to launch assaults. Usually your enemy is asl
eep, or doing a shift change, or just waking up. It tends to be an effective time to hit someone, and there was no reason to expect them to do any different.

  Abigail has been a treasure. She zips around on the snowmobile every couple hours to make sure we all have something to eat and drink and to make sure our toes aren't falling off. I don’t know what path she’s blazed with the machine, but she must be taking a pretty wide route to move around and not make visible tracks or be heard near the road. It’s nice to see a friendly face every few hours, and her hot chicken broth keeps the biting cold away. It’s also funny when she comes up to where I’m laying and she can’t find me. I’ve got a white fleece blanket on top of me I drew on with green and brown markers. It’s amazingly effective camo. She comes up following her own footprints and starts whispering my name until I respond. It’s funny.

  We wrapped up yesterday about an hour after dusk. Gilbert made his way over to campus on his snowmobile after and we had a family dinner. No one really talked for most of it. We’re all just fucking beat. Mr. Journal if you’ve never stood active watch when you’re expecting to be attacked it is easily one of the most mentally draining things you can do. Have you ever expected bad news? Ever dreaded a phone call? Imagine that feeling, only much worse, and it never goes away. Every day you wake up (assuming you can even fucking sleep) and there are endless hours of holding your breath to look forward to. It was killing us.

  After eating in silence Gilbert and Randy had bonding time over a shooter video game, and I sat with the rest of the Williams clan going over what-if scenarios. They were so scared yesterday. I can’t blame them. Every day that went by with no action meant we were one more day closer to a violent encounter. I volunteered to take watch first, and Charles said to wake him up at midnight to switch out. I sat in the dark downstairs with Otis on my lap for hours, listening to the nearly inaudible hum coming from the gas generator in the basement. I stared out the windows into the middle of campus, looking for dark shapes moving around. I started to get worried about getting firebombed. We hadn’t considered that yet. It doesn’t make sense to hit us like that though. They want to kill us for what we have, and burning the place down makes that all worthless. I woke Charles at 1am, and face planted on my bed for our 4am roll out.