by J. L. Bourne
Taking careful aim with my weapon I started aiming for the nearest ones first or the ones on the outside of the circle, thinking that this may slow their pursuit down as they trip over their slain. I only had four magazines, that is 116 rounds. I shot round after round into the skulls of those things. One would think that it would bring instant death. This was not the case. Even some direct hits didnt hit the brain, but skirted along the outside of the skull only to pass through on the other side. For every ten I shot, I only killed eight or nine.
The lumbering mass of ghouls chased me as I tripped over the corpse-laden ground. I had no choice. I had to flee. I ran for blocks only to find more of them. I knew this was a dead place. I could feel it in the air and the vibrations of their moans hit my chest like a cheap band in a local nightclub. I was being hunted. The nearest immediate shelter I could find was a gas station. My body was full of adrenaline. I knew they would consume me if I gave quarter.
I climbed a pipe on the side of the gas station wall and stood flat-footed on the roof. I could tell by the moans and movement in the distance that I was a dead man and lived on borrowed time. I had around thirty rounds left (one magazine and some change). So I decided to take one out of the magazine, and save it for myself.
I started shooting. Trying for headshots. Hitting some and missing more, the fog of war was taking my aim or maybe it was the depression I was feeling, probably similar to someone that just found out they were HIV positive.
That is when I heard my savior. I caught glimpse of a car coming from the direction of my street. I kept shooting. The car took notice and headed my direction. It was John. He haphazardly pulled his car around the side of the gas station. There were five of them closing in. I took three of them out before I ran out of rounds. I had to go for my sidearm. I quickly jumped down from the roof, walked up and killed the last two at point blank, executioner style. A dark brown mist permeated the air behind their skulls. I stayed clear of it fearing infection and jumped in the car with John. We skipped shaking hands and John asked me if I wanted to go home. I told him that if we went back there, it would only lead them to us. He agreed. That was when I came up with the plan. I asked John if he could part with his car. John smiled and said, Whats your plan, sailor?
I told John to keep driving. Those things were following us. I navigated him to a place not far from our homes. I asked John what type of music he had in his car. He was a conservative man. Looking through his CDs, I found what I was looking for. It would be perfect for the job. We made it to the placea large parking lot next to a run down factory. We parked the car and I told John to keep it running. I put a CD in, rolled the windows down and opened all the doors. I turned everything on, even the wipers. Then I turned the volume up as loud as it would go without blowing the speakers. John and I grabbed our weapons and headed to a safer rally point a quarter of a mile away from his car.
The Marriage of Figaro was filling the air of the parking lot and surrounding area. The mass of the undead finally rounded the last corner and came into plain view of the car. Their shambling pace quickened as they saw what their glazed white eyes wanted them to see. They surrounded the car, and took it over. John and I wasted no more time. Once we saw that our plan worked, we headed out.
On the way home, I told John that I wasnt sure that even they could survive that music. He laughed and we kept moving. We saw a dozen of those things as we made our stealthy way back. None of them detected us. A half a bottle of whiskey later, here I sit. Staring at the bullet I saved for myself Is life worth living?
January 21th
2143 hrs
I have re-gathered my thoughts and recovered from yesterdays catastrophe and this mornings hangover. John and I have decided that its better we stay in separate houses because its never good to put all of your eggs in one basket. We dont want both of us dying because one house is under siege. The events that transpired yesterday really hit me hard. I almost died out there. If John hadnt found me or had chosen not to, I would have spent days up there dying of dehydration, listening to the moaning of the dead, until I decided to end it.
There must have been five-hundred dead swarming the car when John and I left it there in the parking lot. Last night lying in my bed, I could hear the faint sound of Mozart in the distance when the wind blew just right. I cant hear it now. I can only imagine how long it took for the car to run out of gas on idle, and the battery to drain from everything that I had left on. The streets are clear now, but there is no way to know for how long. When the sound stopped drawing them near the car, I am sure they spread out again. Its only a matter of time until the law of averages puts them back here.
John and I talked. Last night before we left each other to our solitude (after the Figaro incident), John ran inside and handed me a few more packages of batteries for the 2-way radio. I could tell he wanted to talk. It wasnt until today that I got around to it. John knew I was messed up. Today I got to know him a little better. John is an engineer (explains his wacky plan with the yoga band). He has a Masters in mechanical engineering from Purdue. Told me that he worked for Execu-Tech.
He expressed his guilt about his sons probable fate, and that he felt like he pressured his son to go to the same college as good ole dad. I told John that it really wouldnt matter where in the world he was when this happened. Apparently, its just as bad everywhere.
After the debacle that I witnessed yesterday, I know that not many would or could survive this. Im down to 884 rounds of .223 ammunition. I think that anything below 500 is critically low considering that they probably out number me thousands to one. Maybe even more. This cant be a battle of attrition, as a pyrrhic victory is not an option.
John and I are meeting tomorrow, providing the street is clear enough. We are going to discuss an exploration attempt and see what type of supplies we can gather. Its quite possible this could be our last few days here. I firmly believe that the government has collapsed. We basically canned the oilrig idea, as it would put us through countless miles of terrain ruled by the dead. When/if we bug out, its going to have to be both a realistic plan and defensible location.
It would be impossible to close off the neighborhood with those things running around. The only thing I could think of would be to somehow drive a few tractor trailer rigs to each end of the street and use one to pull another trailer over on its side (to prevent them from crawling underneath). Then we could use smaller vehicles to fill in the gaps. This plan is lunacy. Before we even put one semi truck into place the street would be swarming with them. What I wouldnt give for a seaplane with a full tank of juice right now. I wonder how my base is holding up. I bet the gates are still holding. Worst case, the large planes (737s) carried survivors to a safe place long before they got in. I need time to brainstorm. Goodnight journal.
January 22nd
2240 hrs
John is here now. We decided it best to plan in person rather than try to coordinate this effort over the 2-way. He is in the kitchen feeding his dog. John and I are going to attempt to locate an aircraft suitable for flight. We spent the day packing our essentials, and we are going to head out at first light. John is going to leave his dog in the basement with enough food and water for five days. The bonus is she cant be heard if she decides to bark while she is in the basement. I feel sorry for her but this is no world for mans best friend. While Im out, Im going to attempt to locate more weapons.
One thing of particular interest that I will be bringing is a car battery jump kit. My car just isnt going to cut it. The plan is to leave in the morning in my car, (since Johns car is useless to us now) and immediately look for alternate transportation. Any type of military vehicle would be best. An armored car would be optimal, but the chance of that happening is about the same as monkeys flying out of my ass. I am wondering if the GPS satellites are still functioning without human intervention. If we do happen to find an aircraft, I wouldnt mind having GPS as a back
up navigation tool. I plan to keep writing in my journal while I am away. I think that we will be back in three days, nothing further than three hundred miles. We plan on heading to a location near the outskirts of Austin, TX. We wont be going into the city, especially after my fiasco at the convenience store a couple days ago. I still start shaking and smelling gunpowder and sweat when I think of that.
January 23rd
0600 hrs
John and I are off. Change of plans back in two days not three.
1000 hrs
We departed this morning at around 0600. We are currently in Universal City. I packed my car while it was in the garage to avoid any unwanted guests then turned the ignition over, it sputtered but started. There is not much room in the Volvo, so our first mission was to find suitable transportation. We made it to the 1604 loop. I have never seen so much chaos. The road was littered with abandoned vehicles. I used my binoculars to survey the area. Panning the binoculars left to right, what I saw was disturbing. Reminded me of the traffic camera I saw before (seems like weeks ago). Some of those things were trapped inside with seat belts on. It looked like some left their windows down and were attacked and left to re-animate. We found what we were looking for, although the color wasnt ideal.
A canary yellow Hummer H2 was sitting cross ways on the loop with the drivers side door open. John and I parked the car out of view, took our weapons and car jump kit, and slowly skirted the knoll near the edge of the 1604 loop. The only movement we could see were a few of them walking around a good distance away and of course the movement of those trapped in the vehicles.
As we neared the H2, I saw something that I will never forget. A car seat strapped in the back. I told John to stay put while I approached. I didnt want him to see this, since I know he is or was a father.
I opened the back door of the vehicle. There it was, a shell of a human infant, writhing in the seat reaching for me. The black circles around its eyes looked like orbs. I wanted to cry as I unfastened the seat and set it on the ground a safe distance away. Just as I sat the car seat down and bent back up, I saw her. A woman badly disfigured wearing a pear of jeans and a t-shirt and boots was slowly moving about not more than a few meters up the road.
She caught glimpse of me and started walking toward me. A high shrill moan escaped her decomposing frame. I desperately tried to figure out a way to quietly dispose of her. I knew we were going to have to jump the Hummer (causing noise) because the driver side door had probably been open for days, if not weeks, leaving the dome light on.
She approached slowly and steadily. I looked inside the Hummer. There was a pillow in the passenger seat. I quickly grabbed the pillow, took off my belt and wrapped the pillow around the muzzle of my CAR-15, fastening it tightly with the belt. She was on me so I had no choice but to fire. Just as her gnarling lips curled over her yellow teeth, I pulled the trigger on my carbine.
The weapon made no more noise than popping popcorn as the monsters head exploded in a dark mist behind her. She was no more. I knelt down to the small infant. I sat there and meditated over what had to be done. I prayed that if there were a god, I would be forgiven. I dispatched the young one with my knife. No further details about that need to be given.
After the previous encounter, I threw the pillowcase over the car seat and signaled John to come over. I didnt see any immediate threat in the area, sans one of them in a car twenty feet away thrashing about. John brought the portable jumper (basically a charged battery with cables to connect to dead battery). I unfastened the hood restraints, leaned in the drivers door and popped the hood and went back into the car to check for keys. No keys. I sat there and reasoned for a minute.
What happened to the driver of this vehicle? Would he/she be so selfish as to leave their infant to die here at the whim of those things? After careful thought, I realized that maybe the parents didnt leave the infant. Checking the interior of the vehicle, I noticed a pink pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. I then looked down on the ground at the ghoul thing that I had just killed. I checked her pockets and found the keys to the H2 as well as her drivers license. Sorry about your baby Ms. Rogers.
I took the keys and tried to turn over the ignition, just as I thought. Dead. I took the portable jumper and hooked it up while John turned the key. She roared to life. Checked the gas. It was running off fumes. John jumped in the passenger seat and we were off. We did sort of a u-turn and drove back in the direction of my car. On the way up the embankment, I looked in the rear view and I could tell instantly that we had gained some unwanted attention. I would guess a score of them were lumbering toward our vehicle about three hundred yards off. I stopped the Hummer next to my car and quickly loaded the supplies into the back of our new vehicle. We then headed to the nearest location that we could get fuel. John and I knew that the pumps would not work without electricity, so we brought part of a garden hose to siphon the gasoline.
After about two miles of driving and weaving in an out of wrecked traffic, I spotted a side road and took it. We drove for a half a mile before we found a car that was old enough to probably not have a anti-siphoning screen. Its hazard lights were blinking dimly, probably been flashing for weeks. We checked the perimeter and didnt see any threat. I parked the H2 in a position that would make siphoning easier. We drained every drop from the car, but this only put us at half a tank. It would have to do as the gas stations are all closed.
Blue Light Special Aisle 13
2243 hrs
If there was hell on earth, I found it today. I am thinking about just throwing my camera away, as I dont think anyone would ever want to see these images even if mankind somehow survived this ordeal. All I see are images of death and destruction.
I drove most of the way. After we left Universal city, we headed up I-35 toward San Marcos, dodging in and out of cars and those fucking puss sacks. It is taking its toll on me. I have a new found respect for combat veterans that saw death every day. I dont see how they did it. I could see the smoke over Austin well before we even got to San Marcos. We needed gas, so I took exit 190 and veered off, taking a right into a long abandoned Wal-Mart parking lot.
John kept a lookout while I relieved myself in the ditch. I did the same for him. We pulled the Hummer near some cars so we could siphon more needed gas. At least this time we found a late 80s model Chevy Blazer that had a full tank. We filled the Hummer up to over 3/4 full. I was sitting somewhere around 880 rounds of .223 and 300 rounds of 9mm. John had two bricks of .22. I approached John and asked him if he felt like doing a little shopping.
The door was locked when we got to the front. I went back to the Hummer to pull it up front and check the tool kit for a pry bar. I found what I was looking for and commenced to try and pry the door from its lock. I got good leverage and put my back into it. John was watching the parking lot to make sure we didnt have any surprises. I kept tugging. All of the sudden I felt a thud on the door. I looked up and much to my chagrin; there he was A corpse in a bloody blue Wal-Mart vest pawing at the glass door drying to get out. The thing walked right into the door and bumped into the door latch on the inside.
The door came open slightly as the thing tried to ease itself out to us. It poked its head out and I took that opportunity to drive my tire tool into its head through the eye socket, killing it instantly. I held the door open like a gentleman and let the corpse fall out onto the sidewalk. I opened the door fully and placed the trashcan there to keep it open.
I told John that I thought that there were probably more inside. We pulled the Hummer so close to the entrance that no one could get in, and no one could get out unless they went in the drivers side door and climbed out the passenger door. It was my idea in the event some visitors decided to show up during our shopping spree. I showed John how to handle his weapon inside closed quarters conditions. I call it the recon glide as I had picked it up from one of my marine friends. John and I eased through the aisles goddamn it why does Wal-Mar
t always have to put sporting goods in the back?
I motioned to John to look where I was looking. It was another worker that must have been killed during a shift. It slowly walked toward us. I gave John the signal to shoot, because his weapon is much quieter than mine. With a careful aim, John took the creature out and it lay lifeless on the floor.
Thank god for the skylights because without them, this idea could kiss my ass. John and I continued to the back. We made it to sporting goods and found that many of the guns were either sold out or looted. There were many boxes of .223 ammo and also many boxes of twelve gauge shells. There was one gun of particular interest left in the cases; A Remington 870 twelve gauge pump. I saw fit to break the glass and give it to John since he was lacking in the firepower department. We took the shells and rounds for the carbine, and started to make our escape.