Day by Day Armageddon

by J. L. Bourne

  I pumped the canister to get pressure to the sprayer and doused the bastards with kerosene. They were fucking pissed, or hungry, or both, I don’t know. I lit a match and threw it at the closest one, no dice, didn’t ignite. I repeated this three more times as these vicious things kept clawing at the wall trying to get to me. Finally on the fourth attempt one of them caught fire. I knew I had to stay there on the ladder so I could make them bump into each other and spread the fire.

  Finally when they were all up in flames, I stepped down from the ladder and put away my gear. I could hear the popping sound of burning fat for the next two hours. I’m glad it had rained for the past few days, or I wouldn’t have even thought about doing this. I really have to start making a back up plan in the event I get SNAFU’ed here at my house.

  1815 hrs

  The sun is quickly going down. From my laptop web cam, I can see numerous figures up the street gathering around another house. I wonder if someone is alive in there? I hear birds going crazy in that direction. Not sure what the deal is. I hope if someone is alive in there, they have the common sense to stay quiet, because I really don’t want to find out how gunfire affects them just yet. I don’t want to be a hero today. I miss the world already. I miss flying. I miss being a Naval officer. I guess I still am, but I’m not sure if there is even a government around to recognize my commission. I sharpened my knife to a honed perfection today. It was sort of a relaxation technique. Also cleaned my carbine, although she didn’t need it. A visual inspection was made of all weapons.

  The solar panels are running efficiently. I dread going on the roof to clean them, because I’m sure I will be spotted. I should do it at night. That’s a ways off. I heard the sound of a helicopter today, didn’t take the chance to go outside and look even though those things can’t spot me from ground level. Maybe they can smell me. It makes me wonder what senses they lost or gained from dying and coming back. I think it probably took longer than normal for the ones that I burned to die, as compared to a normal human.

  I saw the caps of the flames from my house over the wall stumbling around for at least three minutes. The average human would collapse from pain in less than thirty seconds, I would guess. When it gets dark, I am going to use the LASER sight on my pistol to try to signal the house up the street. At least that way the creatures will not see the signal, only the recipient will if they exist or are even alive.

  John

  2251 hrs

  Using my pistol LASER sight, I made the attempt at signaling the house that the creatures were gathering around. At first I just aimed the “dot” at every window and shook it around. After about five minutes of this, I saw the faint glow of a flashlight in the upstairs window. Whomever it was started flashing the light. “Dit-dit-dit-dada-da-dit-dit-dit.” It was SOS in Morse code. I learned Morse code a few years back at a military radioman school I attended and was pretty good at visually interpreting and pretty shitty at interpreting it through audio means.

  This time I was in luck. I grabbed a pencil and some scratch paper (bills that I will never pay) and gave the signal that I was ready to copy. The things weren’t reacting to the other person’s flashlight, so I decided to use my L.E.D. light because of the 25 hours of battery life, unlike my pistol laser sight. I started to copy the Morse. At first it was slow going because I had to signal him/her to repeat the signal. I got into the groove after a couple of sentences.

  O K (break)

  H E R E (break) N A M E (break)

  .J O H N (break)

  Y O U ?(interrogative)

  I told him my name and that I was OK also. I also told him to be quiet, the things like sound. He understood. Not bad communication for being a hundred yards away. He signaled and said that his house was secure and that he had a plan to make communication faster, but it would wait until tomorrow. I asked him what the plan involved his reply was:

  I told John that I sort of understood. He signaled that it was time for him to get some rest. I let him go after that. That was over an hour ago and I still cannot fathom what he intends to do with a rubber band, a small radio and a slingshot. I can’t think of a sling shot big enough to propel a hand held walk & talk one hundred yards to my house and even if it could, it would break into a million pieces if it did make it over here. I guess at least I have something to look forward to for tomorrow.

  January 18th

  1012 hrs

  I woke up at 0605 and went to look out the upstairs window. Sat there for a minute with my light and then began to try and hail John. I kept flashing my light at the window. No answer. I started thinking the worst. I just sat there for a few minutes feeling sad, knowing that in half an hour it wouldn’t matter anyway because the sun would be too bright for us to see each others flashing signal. That was when I saw him. I saw movement on the roof, the silhouette of a middle-aged man in a plaid button up red and black shirt and jeans. I grabbed my binoculars ran back and started flashing my light.

  The sun was starting to shine so I was not sure if he could see the light trying to compete with the sun’s brightness. He looked my direction and waved. Then he held up this long green elastic looking thing and what looked like a short stubby metal coffee thermos.

  He then proceeded to wrap one end of the green band around the chimney and the other around his exterior attic fan, forming a primitive sling. He put the thermos in the sling and started walking down the other side of his roof, out of my sight stretching the green looking band. It seemed like a long time. Finally, I saw the band snap upwards, then less than a second later, when the sound caught up, I heard the snap.

  The thermos that John had cradled into the band was shooting at a trajectory that would put it roughly somewhere in my yard. The ten or fifteen undead that were shambling around John’s house took no notice as John’s package sailed to its target.

  I heard a loud KA-THUMP as the thermos hit one of the steppingstones in my yard.

  The package had made it over 100 yards inside the perimeter of my fence. Not without cost though. The sound was loud and two of the things turned from John’s house, as if they heard it and started walking in my general direction. I wasted no time and immediately put my gloves and mask on and grabbed my pistol. I didn’t feel it necessary to bring the rifle for a front yard expedition.

  I made it to ground zero in less than fifteen seconds, picked up the dented thermos and ran back inside waving at John. He could see me and I could see him, but the things could see neither of us from our positions. When I got inside I opened John’s package and found two packages of eight triple ‘A’ Duracell batteries, and the following two items: a note from John, and a two-way radio.

  The corpses finally made it to my general area, but the sound of the impact was so brief they had no idea what specific area to go to. I loaded the batteries (takes 4 AAA) into the two-way radio and put the ear bud on. John was already trying to get me on channel seven. We talked for a great while. He told me that he used his wife’s yoga resistance band to slingshot the thermos. We both laughed at that. I was afraid to ask him about his wife so instead I asked him if he had lost anyone in all this, he simply replied, “I think everyone has.”

  I didn’t probe any further. I asked him what his plans were, and what his supplies looked like. He told me that he was still formulating a plan of survival and a backup of escape, and that he had plenty of food and water. He also told me that he had a semi-automatic .22 rifle and a couple bricks of ammunition. Hell, that’s more ammo than I have.

  I asked him why all of them were gathered around his house and he told me that it was because of his dog, she started barking at a group of them so he had to muzzle her. I asked what kind of dog he had, and he told me that he had an Italian greyhound (tiny version of regular greyhound) named Annabelle. I was jealous of the companionship he had. My busy Navy schedule kept me from getting a pet, because I would deploy at odd times. I told him that I had another friend named John back at the squadron. He said that we should conserve battery power and think of something us
eful to chat about in the evening and that he would be back on at 1800 sharp. I agreed and we both signed off.

  1950 hrs

  John was on the air and ready at 1800 just like he said. We spoke about our current situation and came up with theories of how it began. I asked John if he knew if bullets could kill them, he was not sure. I told him about my little campfire yesterday and he told me he saw the fire after they had succumbed and wondered what happened. He finally broke the news to me about his wife. His son was away for college at Purdue when all of this hit. His wife was a victim of one of those things. It had attacked just before sunset days earlier as she walked out to the shed to get some nails for the boards they were putting up. It was a bum that had died the night before after taking refuge in the backyard shed. By the time his wife called out, it was too late. When he arrived with a baseball bat she was gripping her bloody arm and running toward him with the creature behind her. He killed it with the bat.

  He said that the bite on the arm immediately showed signs of infection and swelling. Black and red vein tracks were spreading toward her shoulder within an hour. He applied first aid and kept her comfortable, but there was nothing else he could do. He started to cry, (I could hear his tears through the tinny transmission of the 2-way) and I tried to change the subject, he said “I had to put her down, it hurt like hell, but I had to.” I told him not to think about this and try to keep his head in the game for the time being. He agreed and we kept talking.

  I told him that I had seen numerous postings from survivors all over the United States on the Internet, but none from our allies overseas. He asked me to read them to him so I did. I told him that one survivor was in southeast Texas, so that means that he and I weren’t the last survivors here. I read about the survivor from New York and John told me in a distant voice that he had family there. We both went off the air for a couple minutes to get our road atlases.

  We got back on and started to discuss escape routes should this area become infested and uninhabitable. He suggested the Alamo because it’s only a half a day’s walk from here. I told him that I thought it would be suicide to enter the city now. I suggested that we “borrow” a sturdy vehicle and head east to the Gulf of Mexico and find an offshore oilrig.

  John said that his power had been flickering on and off in the past few days and he wasn’t sure how long it would hold. John had a Honda generator in his basement, but he told me he refused to use it unless he had to, because it might be audible outside. We decided not to waste too much battery power on these two-way radios. I only had three other sets of triple A’s.

  I tried the CB radio on every channel, only static.

  I’m hungry.

  Thought: I still have my satellite radio in my vehicle.

  Satellite = no lines to catch on fire. If the uplink station is still operational someone could uplink from the WWW, and transmit. I will go out tonight and get the radio and UHF antenna.

  2334 hrs

  John and I decided that if we needed to talk to one another we would be at the window at the top of the hour to flash our lights. We decided to make a deal to go to the window and check on each other every hour, until we signaled it was time for bed (5) flashes. No light means there is no need to waste our two-way radio batteries. I checked my radio. It seems to work fine; unfortunately every station that is active is playing a constant loop. Some of the news channels are broadcasting stories and news from last week. Old news. I will continue to monitor when I can. I checked the CB radio again. I could have sworn that I heard the faint signal of a human voice. I called out and tried to get a response, no joy.

  Looking out the window, I see at least a dozen fires in the distance, and every now and again, I think I hear gunfire. I imagined for a moment that it could be the last survivors in the big city. I bet it is a war zone there. I feel dirty, but I just don’t want to waste the water. That reminded me to check the water pressure. Still some left. I haven’t left the confines of my domicile for five days I think (sans the bonfire and slingshot incident). It feels like a month.

  I wonder how other countries are holding up. I bet Eskimos and some of the small islands in the Philippines aren’t really affected by this. Lucky bastards. I wonder if the walking dead are cold to the touch? That would lead me to believe that they don’t generate body heat therefore they are much like a snake. I theorize that if it gets very cold, they may slow down. Tomorrow is Sunday. No church for me tomorrow. I guess he wasn’t bullshitting about the Omega part in the book of Revelations. It’s almost midnight, so I’m off to give my (5) flashes to John.

  January 19th

  1659 hrs

  I woke up this morning to no power. It was around 0730. At 0800 sharp I went to the window to signal John. He was already there. He told me that the power went out last night at about 0330. I slept right through it. I don’t know what it is, but I have just been able to sleep a little better since I met John. I guess it’s the feeling of not being alone. Being in the military I never got a chance to make many close friends because I would always be on the move. That was the case here. I had this house built because I thought it would be a good investment and because I knew I would be here for a couple years.

  John said that he really didn’t need any power to do anything. He had a propane cooker and plenty of water. I told him that I was using solar power with deep cycle submarine batteries.

  My broadband connection is running through the buried cable lines, and it still seems to be unaffected. There is also power to the phone grid because when I pick the phone up, I get the quick busy tone telling me the switchboards are down, but the lines are not out. I told John that I would be back soon and that I had to go to the garage to switch from the power grid to my own power supply (wouldn’t want the power surging back on and damaging my battery banks).

  After I switched power to solar/battery, I got back on the horn with John. He asked if there were any new survivor entries on the online forums and I read them to him. People from all over the US were sounding off. Some sounded bleak, others sounded hopeful. I guess reading the survivor entries to John was sort of an outlet. John and I discussed travel. I told John that I could fly. If I had a way to get an operational aircraft, we could make it pretty much anywhere in the US, as long as we had the charts so that I could find airfields with fuel. We were both getting cabin fever and it showed. We were just thinking of excuses to leave this dead place.

  1920 hrs

  Gunshots outside. It’s too dark to see John’s house without the streetlight. I turned my radio on and waited for a few minutes. I was sure John was in danger until I heard him crackle in. “Don’t worry, I’m safe, I had to shoot some of them because they were starting to pile up onto each other and form a human ladder.” I asked him how they were affected by the shots. He said that he shot twelve of them in the head using only the moonlight at close range and killed them. That’s good news. I know that those shots are going to attract more of them, so I will be sleeping extra softly tonight. Suggested to John that he be ready at first light to kill twice as many as he killed today.

  2311 hrs

  I can’t really sleep as I keep thinking about all the people left alive and struggling to survive. A woman in Oklahoma is trapped with her children, and asking for advice on the online message boards. What grief it would bring me to find out that my advice doomed someone to being destroyed by a crowd of those things? I know that if I was in a situation trapped with the undead increasing in numbers daily around my perimeter that I would have no choice but to leave. I’m thinking of short-term safe havens as we speak. Water towers, train cars (with roof exits), roofs of buildings with limited roof access come to mind. I just wouldn’t want to be somewhere surrounded with no way out. If there are any prisons or military facilities, I might choose those. They are defensible if, and only if you can clear them out. The more I think about it, the more I realize that my situation could become much like hers quickly if I don’t stay in the game. I don’t feel it prudent to give others advice, as I am
no expert. I just hope that we all survive. There doesn’t seem to be much chance for most of them.

  The Marriage of Figaro

  January 20th

  2223 hrs

  Situation, dire John and I woke up today and started communicating on the two ways. What I saw out the window was almost too much. It was 0700 hrs and there were approximately one hundred of those things on our street forming a human moat around John’s house. I grabbed my carbine, checked its action, holstered my side arm and prepared for battle. I donned gloves, hood, and flight suit, and John’s radio with ear bud. John had no idea that his previous efforts to clear them out would lead to so many following the noise here. I told John to stay put and I un-barricaded the back door, stepped through and jumped my fence, avoiding the glass by throwing over an old bath towel.