ADRIAN’S UNDEAD DIARY
Chris Philbrook
Book Four
THE FAILED COWARD
Adrian’s Undead Diary: The Failed Coward
Copyright © 2012 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, 2012
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
This book is dedicated to all of the Hall E residents who helped AUD find its way onto the printed page:
Antonio Ablog
Santiago Ablog
Dean Adams
Akraven
Carey Anderson
Joe Aplet
Chris Arena
Misty Arensdorf
Bahzu & Mobo
Eric Banninger
Robert Barker
Linda Bartholomew
Brent Baxter
William Benn
Pat Berechree
Russ Berner
Scott Bernstein
Liz Berry
Junior Black
Maya Bolinger
Bryan Bonilla
Mark Boudrieau
Christopher Brown
Michelle Brown
Adrian Burt
Derek Carrier
Lindsey Carrier
Vincent Carrier
Michael "Haus" Cartwright
Ryan Catucci
Matt Chambers
Josh "EthalienHosh" Christensen
Nicholas Clark
Brett Cox
Garland Cox
DeLaina Craft
John Crayton
John L Crowll
Tyler Davidson
Kaden Devine
Johnathan Dotson
Lawrence Alex Dunham
Matthew Eddy
Micah
Misty
Max & Matthew Davis
Pamela Deaton
JC Edualino
Sarah "Savy Cha Cha" Englehardt
Shana Festa
Dave "NGIB" Fitzgerald
Michael Floyd
Justin Fooshee
Annalisa Foster
Dirk Frailey
John Ryan Gardner
Martin Garlant
Steve Gideon
Jay Glasco
Lauren Grafing
Michael Gray
Rachel Hamilton
Michelle Hansen
Russ Hawkins
Jason HilleyRobert Hollis
Adam Holmes
Justin Holmes
Jay Honsey
Mike Howard
Chris Hughes
Norrie Huth
Matt Isgro
Joe Keneson
Matt Keneson
Pistol Annie James
Jezebel in Hell
Jared Johnson
Jeffery "Jefro" Johnson
Ray "Pixelcide" Johnson
Lynne Johnston
Kara Jones
Sherry Knight
Elleisha Latcham
Justin Lawrentz
Brian Leazenby
Adam Lewis
Edward Lopez
Eric Loveless
Mary Kristine Macapagal
Michael McCready
Nora McCulla
Alanna McDermott
Chris '28' McDowell
Matt McLaughlin
Mary Miller
Micah B Minor
Brittany Moore
Brian Morelli
Jon Mosher
Justin Mueller
Brian Mullett
Jolanda Musca
Conrad Nark
Mark Nichols
Jeremy Norman
OILBURNER
Patrick Olsen
Buz Ozburn
Scott Page
Erik Paulson
Dennis Pekkala
Gary Perkins
Dan Pettyjohn
Culex Pipiens
Shannon Procknow
Tina Redanz
Lisa Reynolds
Kirby "RED DOG" Richard
Chuck Rice
Les Roach
Michael Robbins
Rob "Ontos" Roche
Joseph Rodriguez
Tony Rodriguez
David "SuprDave" Roe
Sean Rofe
Jeff Roller
Jamie Rogers
Sharon Sanders
Mackenzie Schauer
Arthur Scheel
SgtDuster
John Skokan III
Jesse Smith
Tony Smith
Veronica Smith
Kevin Sowers
Eric Stenzel
Will Stowe
Mary Sutton
Sonya Tapley
Ruth Thomas
David Walker
Josh Warren
Warrior
Casey-Andrew Webber
Adam Weber
Zebulon Weber
Josh Wheeler
Donnie Williams
Dave Williamson
Tracy Wilson
Ross C Worden
Rich "Secretsquirrel" Wresneski
Larry Yadouga Jr
Eric Zaldivar.
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
Book Four: The Failed Coward
Coming Soon:
Book Five: Wrath
Book Six
Book Seven
Book Eight
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Auburn Lake Preparatory Academy map
MARCH 2011, Continued
March 5th
March 7th
Sweetest Amy
March 8th
March 9th
March 11th
March 12th
March 14th
March 16th
March 18th
March 20th
March 22nd
March 24th
March 26th
March 27th
Gasoline
March 29th
March 31st
APRIL 2011
April 2nd
April 4th
April 6th
April 7th
The Siege of Mildenhall
April 9th
April 11th
April 13th
April 15th
April 17th
April 18th
April 19th
April 21st
The Golden Palace
April 23rd
April 25th
April 27th
April 29th
About the Author
Additional Online Content
AUD Merchandise
March 2011
Continued
March 5th
We are still alive. All of us, mercifully. I wasn’t able to write last night, and to be honest, I’m writing this entry on a tiny amount of borrowed time.
It occurs to me that it is Saturday night. If the world hadn’t fallen apart in June, I wonder what I would be doing right now, instead of
fighting off what appears to be an unending siege of the fucking living dead. I wonder what Cassie and I would be doing?
She’s dead. I think we’ve proven that. At least I think I've proven that to myself. I haven’t dreamt of her, or anyone else since that night. Probably because I haven’t really slept at all since then. We are benefitting from our marginal success in fending off the zombies. Oddly enough. Christ I am tired.
I need to keep this short. Or take frequent breaks to go shoot more of them.
The entire night of the… 3rd? Whenever my last entry was, we sat awake in the upstairs rooms watching the crowd build and build until every single open yard of space had at least one zombie in it. There had to be five hundred of them. Just as I said before there was…. AFK.
Banging on the front door again. One of them managed to climb over the mound of bodies and tumble down the pile against the front fire door. I had to lean out the second floor window with the .22 pistol to kill it. Thankfully we have an abundance of .22lr ammo. We desperately need another damn .22 weapon though. The way we’re pumping rounds through the two we have, the barrels are not going to last if we make it through this.
Sigh. I’m having a hard time making heads or tails of everything right now. Based on what Patty, Abby and I talked about the other night, I know Cassie is dead. Dead but not gone apparently. I haven’t revisited my writings about my dream since I wrote them. I get the feeling a lot of emotion will hit me like a truck, and I need to stay sharp until we get through this. If we get through this.
Yesterday we made the decision to reinforce all the windows and doors with the wood I had in the basement. There wasn’t much raw material available, but we had a few 2x4s, and one sheet of plywood, and using a kitchen knife with a serrated edge, we managed to quietly score the sheet enough to snap it into smaller sheets to cover the areas we felt were most likely to get hit hard. It was a good decision. The windows in the living room downstairs were broken this morning when the undead reached them. The bodies are stacked high enough now outside that a few of them have managed to walk across the top of the pile and get to the windows. I never accounted for bodies being stacked that high. I guess that was a mistake on my part.
This is a nightmare Mr. Journal. It is the worst thing you can imagine to watch them come, one after another, over and over, reaching, clawing, and scratching. They’re trying to get inside to kill us, and either we will have enough bullets, or we won’t. I hope running away is an option if that happens. I think we have enough bullets to last though. I hope that doesn't turn into another mistake on my part.
The crowd is much thinner outside right now, but that’s not what worries me most at the moment. Dimly inside I have the strong feeling we will survive this. I don’t think this, no… that’s not what I am trying to say. I FEEL like this was not an attempt on our lives. This siege.
I know that might sound stupid. They certainly are trying to kill us in here. Gunshot. AFK.
Patty shot one trying to climb the deck on the side of the Hall. Haven’t seen them try to climb before. I hope that’s not a new thing they’re gonna start. Fuck that noise.
At any rate, what I am trying to say, is that there is a... I don’t know, a feeling about this that I can’t shake. I just get the impression that if these things really wanted in to kill us, they would’ve done it already. Why would they wait for us to fire on them before rushing the building? Why are they all holding books? Why did it take them this long to get here? Why March 3rd?
Wait a second.
January, February, March.
At three am on the third night of the third month I have a dream of three people sitting in a white room.
I am suddenly more afraid of that train of thought than I am of the undead outside. Someone or something is trying to send us a message. I need to get through this, and figure out what that message is, or the next time the undead come, I get the distinct impression they are not going to wait for us to fire on them first, and they WILL get in here. I am reminded suddenly of that zombie with the watch.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Three taps. Motherfucker.
Mike from Westfield will be here on the 7th. We need to get this handled before his people drive onto campus and get caught up in what’s happening. Gilbert is at his house being as quiet as possible. He said over the radio that there are just a few outside his house, but they are standing outside, almost as if they are keeping guard on him. He told me through the windows he can see that there is one or two of them on each side of his house. Like they’re keeping him inside. Focusing on us here.
That’s not creepy or anything.
More fucking gunshots from downstairs. I gotta go.
-Adrian
March 7th
Operation: yank our asses out of the fire has been largely completed. I just woke up from the first decent sleep I’ve gotten in what feels like an eternity. I’m scared to sleep now. Genuinely apprehensive about putting head to pillow. Ever since the 3rd and my “white room” dream followed by the fucking onslaught we’ve had here… I don’t know Mr. Journal. It’s like there is no forgetting about what I saw, and what has happened.
Things are different today. People are looking at me strange. Maybe it’s all in my head and I am just hallucinating that they are looking at me strange? I can’t say for sure. I guess it doesn’t matter in the short term.
Where to start? So much bullshit has gone down here it’s hard to find a single moment or event to start with. I mean... ah fuck it. Where did I leave off last? I think it was late evening on the… 5th? Yeah. So we had another surge right after I hit save and shut the laptop. The entirety of the day and evening of the 4th we were at the windows of the second floor firing down into the crowd of undead pressing into Hall E more or less nonstop.
Ironically, they didn’t start attacking us initially until we started firing on them, which was odd to say the least. We know they saw us through the windows, so it’s not like they didn’t know we were in here. Almost like they were giving us time to prepare or something. Definitely fucking odd.
I may or may not have said already that we formulated a battle plan that revolved around using the .22 caliber weapons primarily. We’ve got an abundance of that ammunition here, and it made sense to use as much of that as possible before we switched to anything else. All we have for .22 weapons right now are the Browning pistol, and the Tac .22. We had some issues when we poured it on too, not surprisingly.
Firing over three or four hundred rounds in any situation is pretty bad for a gun. Wear and tear, residue builds up, the barrel and internal shit gets really hot, and can warp, there’s just a plethora of things that can go wrong. Military grade weaponry is designed for hard use, but we’re sorely lacking in that kind of stuff. Two hours into our Waco-style standoff with the horde we started having jams. Stovepipes mostly with the pistol, but not long after the rifle started to fail. These guns are simply not designed for that volume of fire.
We switched out once it was clear the guns needed to be cleaned and given a rest. Now in my infinite wisdom, I still had not taught the girls how to fully break them down and clean them, so we wound up misfiring a lot of rounds until we got new weapons to the windows to keep the rate of fire up. Gilbert kept radio’ing us every five minutes asking how we were doing, and as we could, we kept him up to date.
Our second best option for ammo was the M15 and the crate of 5.56 we’d just bartered for. However, none of the girls had fired the M15, which meant I had to clean the guns and do all the shooting myself, which wasn’t the best idea. We opted for Abby to go to town with the Beretta firing very slowly, and limiting her to 30 shots. That gave me enough time to get the .22 rifle cleaned for Patty, and get her back in the fight. I cleaned the .22 pistol while Abby waited, and then I gave it to her. I let the two women resume our firepower session and I got us fresh drinks and food so we could keep up the barrage. I also checked all the doors and windows on the first floor to ensure nothing had gotten inside,
and we were good to go.
That process went on for something like ten hours. Eventually we had killed so many of them the bodies were stacking up so high the windows were in danger of being smashed, and then the zombies could find a way to get inside. About that same time the number of zombies outside began to thin, but they kept coming in waves as more and more made their way across the bridge and into the center of campus. The thinner mass of undead meant we could rest some though, and I let Patty take a break.
Abby refused to leave me alone. That girl is a worker Mr. Journal. There’s just no fucking quit in her. I watched her that day and night as she fired her little pistol down into the crowd, and she’s a machine. She lines up her shot, controls her breathing, and gently squeezes the round off. One after another. Textbook. If I had a camera, I could use her to teach other people how to shoot. It’s crazy to think she was just a normal, nerdy high school girl a year ago. Today, she’s a hardcore post apocalyptic badass bitch with a snarky sense of humor. I’m smiling just writing it. I'm so fucking proud of her.
We pissed through over a thousand rounds of .22 the past few days. I haven’t done an official count since, but we were firing a lot of bullets. The weapon jams came and went, and got better when we cleaned the guns and gave them a break to cool down. Unfortunately, while the .22’s were down resting, we switched to the M15, and the Ruger M77. We had a fair amount of .270 kicking around, and with the additional range afforded by a scope, I was able to let Patty warm up to the M15, and I hammered down a handful of the undead further out. We saved all the brass on the outside chance we find reloading gear. Sooner or later we’re bound to.
Upside: killed a lot of fucking zombies. Downside: we pissed through all but five rounds of .270, and we burned up 300 or so rounds of the 5.56mm. This was such a bitch. I mean, I can’t say I didn’t expect us to have to deal with the undead, but not all at once, and not right here on campus. What good fortune Mike brought all that ammo for the trade. Wow, right? Either I’ve got a guardian angel, or the devil takes care of his own. Shrug.
Where was I? So yeah the entirety of the past few days have been a shit storm. The 4th, 5th, and 6th were all the same. Waves and waves of the cocksuckers drawn in from the noise we were creating. We did notice some weird shit. Remember how I said they were all carrying books? Well, after we started firing into the huge crowd, they tossed the books, and sort of returned to “normal.” None of the additional dead folks that came to campus had books, just the first two or three hundred or however many we had.
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