This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Tiffany Crystal
Table of Contents
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4
Week 5
Week 6
Week 7
Week 8
Week 9
Week 10
Week 11
Week 12
Week 13
Week 14
November 25th
Note:
The work you are about to read contains spelling errors, typos, and seemingly random cut-off words/sentences. Please keep in mind that these are all purposeful mistakes intended to convey the “author”’s tone, rather than author errors or glitches occurring during publishing.
April 15th, 2017
11:38am
If you're reading this, either we've all survived, or you found this in a room scattered with dead bodies, and I am among them.
Maybe.
If I'm not, you know, sneaking up behind you right now. I don't know how this crap started or how it spreads, so it's entirely possible that I am not fully dead, in which case…oops?
Well, what do you want from me? I'm writing this, curled up in a corner of the room, listening to screams and the sound of people running outside my apartment. At this rate, you probably know more about what’s going on than I do.
You’ve lived long enough to find this, I’m living this right now, so all I know is what I can see from my window, and that’s mostly people running around screaming and cars gridlocked. Occasionally, I'll see a man or a woman stumbling along, instead of running, but honestly, if I hadn't caught the news this morning, I would’ve just assumed they were drunk.
The Walking Dead got it all wrong, by the way. All those stupid zombie movies and whatnots did. There’s no military movement out there. There aren't cops running around trying to do jack shit, and I'm pretty sure the hospital staff all ran for the hills. I mean, I don't know for sure, but I haven't seen any ambulances or heard any sirens, so that's what I'm assuming.
Gotta be honest here...this is not how I expected the world to end. Personally, my bet was on nuclear war, but nope. Went to bed around 2 am last night, thinking everything was good and all was right in the world. Woke up this morning to the sound of screams. Well, more screams than usual.
I knew better than to open my front door to see what was going on. I learned that the hard way my first week here. And, okay, I might’ve watched a few too many horror movies. The point is, I knew that opening a door without knowing what’s going on never ends well. So I double checked my locks and turned on the TV instead.
Zombies.
First thought: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Second: no, seriously, you’re kidding, right?
Third: …fuck.
I’m not a zombie fan, but I’m also not an idiot. The moment it sunk in that there were ACTUAL flesh eating monsters out there, and not just people strung out on bath salts, I started packing my shit.
Let me just say this now, Hank wasn’t kidding when he said country folks can survive. Before I took this “cushy” graphics job, I was a country girl. Our family went camping anytime the weather agreed, and a few times it didn’t. I brought most of my gear with me when I moved, so I went ahead and dug it all out of my closet. It’s sitting by the door ready to go. I have a wheeled suitcase, too, but that just has the heavy crap I want but won’t mind losing if I have to drop it and run.
I’ve spent the better part of my day going through my junk drawer and figuring out what might actually be useful, and what to chuck. Now, I’m cutting holes in an old belt so it can hold knives and a hammer. I’m gonna have to venture out of my apartment sooner or later, and don’t want to get caught without a weapon.
* * *
April 19 th
11:26 pm
Day 5 of WTF and the only thing that has changed is the thumping sound I’ll hear every once in a while next door. Oh, right. I dunno where I might be when you find this, but at the moment, I’m in New York City. Ha, that name might not even mean anything anymore. Do you know what an apartment is? I’m going to pretend you do, cause I don’t feel like explaining it. My apartment is on the eighth floor, which is, surprisingly enough, not a bad place to be in case of a zombie apocalypse. I have five other neighbors on this floor. One on each side of me, and three others across the hall. The apartment I keep hearing thumps from belongs to a single mother and her two boys. I’ve only seen them a couple times but they’re cute kids. I’m just really hoping the thumping is them playing and not…ugh. I’m not even going to think about it.
Power is still on. Water is still running clear. Internet’s still going, too. I’m eating the last of this mac-n-cheese, drinking the last bit of milk and then going to bed. I’ve had nothing to do for the past couple days but watch the news. Pretty sure that’s not gonna last much longer though. The channel seems to be “On Standby” more often than not. When there is a picture, it’s all video footage of these entire hordes of zombies (I still can’t believe it) flooding the streets. Everyone is headed for the bridges, but the bridge is overflowing with cars. People are literally pushing other cars off the bridge with their own, trying to get a whole inch further away from the city. It’s just...there are words to describe it, I’m sure, but right now my brain just can’t. It’s doing the “I can’t even” thing right now, I swear.
I did learn some interesting stuff though. Each station has a slightly different viewpoint on what’s happened, but they all agree that, whatever this is, it happened, literally, overnight. People went to bed, and woke up...zombies. They don’t know if the people died in their sleep and the zombie virus/gene/mutation/whatthefuckever kicked in, or if the whatthefuckever doesn’t care about your living state when it takes over.
I’ve been flipping through the channels, making notes of everything and crossing them with each other and what I’ve found online. I don’t really have a way of verifying anything, but here’s what I have figured out so far:
● we’re fucked.
Also:
● it’s global. There are outbreaks everywhere.
● they don’t just go for your brains. They’ll eat any part of you they can get to.
● The zombies can be stopped if you either destroy the heart or the brain (brain works best).
● No one is safe. There are just as many kid zombies as grandparents. No babies yet, but that might just be a matter of time.
● It does seem to be spread through bites, though that it doesn’t appear to be the only way.
● Already dead people stay dead. There’s no reports of people crawling out of the ground or anything (thank god).
My belt is about as done as it’s going to get, and it’s time to start exploring outside my apartment. If my neighbors are gone like I think they are, there’s probably plenty of perishable food in their apartments. I’d rather finish that food off before I start making a dent in my canned food stash.
* * *
April 20 th
12:58pm
I got a bit of a late start, and I haven’t actually got around to checking out my neighbors yet, but I have a good reason. Found out something interesting last night. Just after I finished up yesterday’s journal entry, I thought I would take a quick look outside, and hey, guess what?
The virus/drug/whatthefuckever
doesn’t care about your living status.
I saw it myself. Man and woman were making a run for it. The woman fell. I thought she tripped over something, then I saw a puddle of...well, it looked black, but it was also nighttime and far away, but anyway, it was spreading around her. Predictably, the guy took off running. A couple minutes later, the woman got back to her feet and started stumbling along down the road. So maybe that’s two interesting things? Cause yeah, that changeover didn’t take long at all.
I haven’t looked out there yet today, but I’m guessing there’s going to be a large brown spot on the concrete where she was. Unless she really did throw up something black...I don’t know. I don’t care either. Not really. I mean, it’d be good to know the warning signs, but from what I saw, by the time it gets to the point where you know the person is gonna turn, it’s too late to do shit about it.
So yeah. Fun times. I have two eggs left in my fridge and some butter. Gonna make me some scrambled eggs and then start checking out the neighbors.
* * *
7:15pm
Okay, so today was pretty productive. I managed to go through two of the apartments across the hall from me. I looked up what kind of household products would be useful online while I was eating some breakfast, so I kinda had a shopping list of what to grab. I think that’s why I was able to get as much done as I did. Well, that, and the apartments here apparently all follow the same layout, so I knew where to look for what.
Most of the food was either bad, or close to going out of date, but I found plenty of ramen, and I scored BIG in one of the apartments. The guy’s medicine cabinet was PACKED.
Razors, pain meds - I’m talking the prescription strength stuff here, not the over the counter crap - even a bottle of amoxicillin. Half empty, but it’s better than nothing. Whole shitload of bandaids, a couple ace bandages, vitamins out the wazoo. I’m not sure why he had a pair of tweezers, but I tossed them in with the rest of the “loot.” There is literally no telling what I’ll find once I have to leave this place, and I know my luck. I won’t even make it out of the door before I manage to get glass or wood stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be. So yeah. Tweezers.
Spray deodorant to turn into a good makeshift flamethrower, if need be. Found a bunch of those cotton undershirts in his room...not much use to me, as they were, but I can cut them into strips and make more bandages if I have to.
I almost left the box of condoms I found, but then I figured: bartering items. Also, if what I’ve found is to be believed, they can be used to hold water. Not sure I believe that, but if I get desperate…I just wished the guy smoked. Cigarettes would probably be a better trade item, but oh well. He didn’t have any bug spray either, and that’s a BIG need.
The other apartment had their computer still turned on, and no password protection. I did some more research while I was there and printed off guides for making traps and weapons (hey, better than using up all of my printer fluid).
Found another rolling suitcase, way bigger than mine. Lost an hour moving stuff from the other suitcase into the new one. Not entirely sure how I’m going to haul all of this, but I’m figuring…if I can make it down the street, I can probably gank a cart from an alleyway. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any homeless people left on the streets, so it’s not like they’ll be using them anymore. If I get my hands on one of those, I can toss everything in there and just haul ass through town.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I found a lot today. Lots of batteries, lots of flashlights, and lots of knives. Oh, and duct tape! Motherfucking DUCT TAPE. I’m feeling damn near invincible right now, not even gonna lie.
I’m a little worried about my parents. I talked to them a couple times since all this started up, and they told me they were fine, but I haven’t heard from them at all today.
Nevermind, just got off the phone with them. They live in bumfuck North Carolina, without a neighbor for miles, so they’re doing okay. Dad went into town today to pick up some food for him and mom. He said there were more zombies than he expected, but he had his shotgun with him, so they weren’t much trouble. I was a little worried about the sound drawing more of them, but he brushed it off.
Oh, and get this...man, I love my dad. He stopped by the police station before he headed back home. There was no one there, so he decided to help himself to all the guns and ammunition he could get his paws on. Then he swung by the liquor store to see if he could score some whiskey while he was at it.
The cops were there. ALL OF THEM. Dad decided he wasn’t going to risk it, not with all the guns and stuff sitting in the back of his truck. Mom is so pissed at him. I could hear her in the background bitching about him robbing the cops, and “how are they supposed to protect anyone from the zombies?” Typical dad, he told her, “fat lotta good they’d do. They couldn’t even protect their guns!”
So yeah. That’s my dad for you. He’s planning on making a run to the lumberyard next. He wants to build a wall around his land. My brother and his wife, Anna, are headed there to help him out. Ann’s pregnant, so she won’t be doing any building, but her and my brother used to go to the shooting gallery all the time, so she volunteered as lookout, instead.
Dad wants me to head down there as soon as possible. I’m gonna try, but let’s face it: making it from NYC to BFE North Carolina on foot is not going to be easy. Hell, I’m not even sure how I’m going to make it out of the city at this point. I know I can’t stay here, it’s not safe, and I’ll run out of food before too long, but I’m kinda stuck at the moment.
On the plus side, I figure I’ve probably got about another two weeks left before the power goes out. I want to be moving before then, but that still gives me at least a week to get plans in place. It’s also soon enough that hopefully people won’t have organized into groups of bandits, or whatever they might call themselves. We’ll have to see.
Final notes for the day: I’m still a little nervous about the apartments on my side of the building. I haven’t heard any thumping on the side where the kids lived, but there’s been a steady dragging sound now on the other side. I’ll check them both out tomorrow when I wake up. For now, I’m sleeping in the bathroom with the door firmly shut and locked. I don’t know yet if the zombies can open doors/climb stairs/bust through walls, and I’m not about to take any chances. If I do end up dead, it won’t be because I was being stupid, dammit.
* * *
April 21st
Noon.
Well, I didn’t get eaten. Ate? Whatever. I’m still alive. No zombies broke down the door or the wall, so I’m good. I’ve done a little more research, and I’ve decided that I am so screwed.
The only real way to get out of NYC involves bridges or tunnels. I already knew the bridges were out, but now the tunnels aren’t any better, with reports coming in of hordes pouring out both ends. There’s a ferry, but yeah, I don’t think that’s running anymore. I could try one of the harbors, but I don’t know how to drive a boat either.
So, like I said: screwed. I might just have to say the hell with it and try the harbor anyway. I might be able to figure out the boats on my own, once I get there. It’s worth a shot, anyway, but if I’m gonna do that, it’s gonna have to be soon. I can’t risk other people having the same idea. I’m giving myself another two days – tops – and then I’m out of here.
I ate before I wrote this. So I’m off to check out the other neighbors. I’m starting with the thump-thump side. The dragging sound is still happening on the other side. I’m tempted to skip that apartment completely, but it would be good to practice fighting these things. I’ve been watching them outside and they don’t move very fast, and they don’t seem to be any stronger than a regular human, so that’s good at least. If I’m gonna be out there fighting them though, I need some idea of how they act when there’s food nearby.
Also, I’m getting really tired of calling them ‘zombies’. It’s so cliché, even if that is what the news people are calling them. And fuck that PC crap. They are not “the
deceased,” they’re “oh fuck this.” Too long though. Need a shorter name. I’ll think about it later. I have my belt on, it’s time to go.
* * *
5:13pm
What I know now:
The trolls (my new name for the zombies) can move somewhat fast when they want to. Not much faster than a jog, but that can still be a bad thing.
Hammers are good in a pinch, but baseball bats are much better for playing whack-a-troll.
They’re not good with door handles. If the door opens away from them, and the handle is one of those long ones instead of a round one, there’s a chance they can open it. They just apparently lack the coordination to actually grab a knob and turn it.
From the way they shuffle their feet, it’s not likely they’ll be climbing any stairs. They might be able to drag themselves up a flight, if they’re motivated enough, but I’m guessing they’d have to be damn near starving. Our apartment building has an elevator and a stairwell. Guess which one we’ll be using?
Oh yeah. And now there’s a “we.” The thump-thump apartment wasn’t empty. I tried the door, but it was locked, sooo...I knocked. The door opened, I got jerked in through the opening and the door was slammed shut behind me before I could say “howdy fucking do.”
I’ll spare you the details, but basically her and the kids are okay. Now, anyway. They had ran out of food, and Abby (the mom) was too scared to scavenge. It took a while to convince her to let me go back to my place, but once she saw all the food I brought back, she started crying. I hated putting a dent in my supplies already, but what was I supposed to do? They needed it. I’ll just have to replace them before we leave.
Besides, it was worth it. Abby knows how to drive a boat, so we have an actual plan now. She also came up with some good ideas for barter items. Once I got rid of the troll in that one apartment, we left the boys alone back at her place and went through the other apartments again, collecting things like coffee, pot plants, sugar, you know, stuff like that (how the hell I missed the weed, I have no fucking clue).
The Survivor Chronicles | Book 1 | Say No! To Zombies Page 1