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Day 1:

The world as we know it, is over...

Something is happening all over the world. People are getting sick, they are dying, and then they are coming back to life. Once they come back, they try to kill everything and everyone they see.

Dad had been bitten by a guy at the hardware store yesterday. A guy came into the store and started attacking everyone in it. Dad tried to stop him, but the asshole took a big chunk out of Dad’s arm with one bite. Dad tried to claim that it wasn’t bad, but the sickness took him within hours of getting bit. He began coughing up blood almost immediately, and it just got worse from there.

The news said to quarantine anyone who was sick. But my parents never trusted the news, so being told that a bite or scratch could infect and kill you wasn’t something they took to heart. Dad wasn’t quarantined, he wasn’t locked in a room, he was left on the couch…and that is where he died...only to come back moments later and try to kill my Mom.

Our neighbor Art heard the screams and ran over to help, and shot my Dad in the head with his rifle. Art said that this isn’t the first one he’s killed. I asked Art how he could kill one of his best friends without hesitation. He told me that thinking about it wasn’t an option.

The dead are coming back to life. How is this possible?

Mom is hysterical and has locked herself in her room. I can hear her sobs all the way down in the living room.

Art and I dragged Dad’s body into the garage, and tomorrow we are going to burn his corpse. They say it’s the only way to be sure that he’s dead.

The other day in school we were given the assignment to keep a blog of our daily life for at least a month. We were supposed to turn the assignment in to our teacher tomorrow, and I waited until now to start writing down my thoughts and experiences.

So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick, I’m 17 years old, and I'm just trying to survive...

Day 2:

I watched the TV all morning. News reports saying this shit is happening everywhere. No place is safe - not even my middle of nowhere town in Oregon. The local news reported that our 24,000 residents are evacuating the city in mass numbers. I asked Mom if she wants me to start packing the car, and she told me no.

All the news reports keep calling the sick, the walking dead, or the undead. One expert on TV referred to them as zombies. He said that the term originated in the 19th century to describe animated corpses who have returned to life through witchcraft. The news reporter refused to call the sick “zombies”, but I think it suits them just fine.

This afternoon Art and his family came by to help us bury Dad. I tried to talk him into just digging a hole and laying Dad to rest in the ground, but Art was insisting that we burn his body. Art built a small funeral pyre (he told me it’s what the Nazi’s used to burn bodies during the Holocaust), and we set Dad’s body on it. Mom wouldn’t leave her room when we lit it on fire. Art and his Wife Marie said a few prayers and blessed us. Then they left to go home and finish packing. They are going to the FEMA camp in Portland tomorrow.

The neighborhood is quiet after most people left. Mom and I are going to stay and wait for help.

I made a list of all the food we have left. We have enough for at least 10 days. I’m going to cook us up the perishable food first.

Day 3:

Art and his family left today. They headed north to Portland because FEMA has a camp there. But Mom doesn't want to leave. She is too scared and thinks our house is the only safe place. I tried to tell her that we need to leave, that we need to seek shelter elsewhere, but she isn’t listening to me anymore. She just sits in her room and reads her bible. She keeps rambling about the book of revelations and the rapture. I keep telling her that if this was the rapture, then the dead wouldn’t be trying to eat the living.

I keep trying to connect to the internet to check my email, but all the lines are busy...stupid fucking dial-up internet!

We have less canned food than I thought. Going to scavenge houses tomorrow. Hopefully I'll find something left for us.

Note: need weapons to protect house.

Day 4:

The TV is officially gone now, and Cable stations have gone off air. AM Radio has some reports, but not much. All I am getting from the AM stations is the message to head north to the FEMA station, and to avoid all contact with the sick or recently deceased...that and religious talk show hosts talking about the end of the world.

I searched a few homes today. Didn't find much of any real value. I guess most of the neighbors took anything good with them as they left town. I did find a music box to bring back to mom. I stole it (can I even really call it stealing, anymore?) from Mrs. Butterfield up the street. I don’t think she’ll miss it, and I’m pretty sure Mom will love it.

Other than that the neighborhood is quiet, and there are no zombies shuffling around.

The biggest problem of the day is that Mom is getting sicker from the stress. She’s not eating, and she won’t come out of her room. I’m really worried about her.

Day 5:

Mom refuses to leave her bed now. Says they'll eat her if she walks outside. I tell her it's safe here... But she won't listen...She hasn’t bathed in days and she smells really bad. I know that’s horrible to say about my mother, but its true! At least I am taking showers.

The neighborhood is really quiet now. No cars. No planes. No noise, except for me walking around. I think we are the last two people in the city, and that frightens me.

Radio says power grid shutting off soon. I need to get batteries and supplies before that happens. I’ve got no choice but to head into town tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Note: get food and first aid.

Day 6:

I rode my bike to town. The city was overrun with zombies. I don’t know how many of the 24,000 residents in this town made it out alive, but from the hundreds I saw walking around Main Street, I don’t think many did.

Oddly enough, I saw my PE teacher, and the cute girl from my English class snacking on what looked like road kill. Is it sad that I checked out her ass? I think it was just a reflex to how I look at most cute girls. Regardless of how good her butt looked, I still avoided them like the plague.

The pharmacy and the corner market were completely emptied out. The only place that wasn’t totally ransacked was The Pirate’s Den bar on the far end of Main Street. That is where I found a bunch of cool shit in the back of the bar. I grabbed tons of booze, and a pistol from behind the counter.

Gonna drink tonight...

Day 7:

Hung-the-fuck-over. Completely worth it though.

Mom isn't getting any better and she seems to be becoming more delirious as time goes on. I don't think I can fix her either. She pretty much ignores the food I bring her, and she isn’t drinking water either. I fear that she is going to become too dehydrated to even move soon. I just don’t know what to do to make her want to get better. It feels like she is just giving up.

We are running low on food. I have to go to the store tomorrow. I hope to find something to eat.

I messed around with the pistol today. Its a Beretta 92FS. My dad used to have one of these a few years ago. I checked and there are 9 rounds in the clip, should I save 2 of them just in case...?

Day 8:

I went back into town again today. The convenience store I found was nearly empty. I grabbed what I could, but it was mostly canned beets and dog food... I someone had already cleaned out the cigs and the safe... Bummer.

Killed my first zombie too... I found it in the back of the store. It was just standing in a corner looking confused and unaware of its surroundings. I tried getting a closer look the guy to see if I knew him or not, but half of his face was torn off, and I couldn’t get a good enough look at the other side. I accidentally kicked a shelf and alerted the zombie. He lunged at me, and I was able to avoid him long enough to shoot him with the Beretta. It took me 6 shots to finally hit him in the head. But as soon as that bullet entered his brain, he hit the floor like a ton of bricks.

I heard more noises out front after the last gunshot, and I realized that the noise attracted more of them to me. I grabbed what I could and bounced-the-fuck-out-of-there.

The lesson I learned to day was, don’t fight zombies with guns unless you have lots more ammo.

Day 9:

They shut off the power today. I put fresh batteries in the radio for mom to listen to the news. The National Guard is evacuating every city in the state and taking them to the FEMA camp in Portland. Mom doesn't want to go. I constantly tell her that its safer there, and that we’ll be around other people in the same situation…but she doesn’t seem to care anymore.

I just want to drag her down the stairs, out the front door, shove her in the car and leave this city in our dust…but I still don’t have a license, and I can’t drive a stick shift for shit. Maybe I can try and find an automatic and learn to drive that way…I mean, it can’t be that hard…right?

She found my gun too. She wasn't as pissed as I thought, but she took it away because she thinks I’ll hurt myself with it. I’m not pissed off that she took the gun either. In fact, it makes me happy that she was able to muster up enough emotion to yell at me for it.

Maybe she is getting better?

Day 10:

Food is running really low. We only have 2 cans of beets, and 6 cans of dog food left. I think beets taste like piss, so I gave them to mom, while I ate the dog food. I couldn’t risk Mom seeing me eat the dog food, so I hid in the garage and wolfed down the gravy filled bits as fast as I could. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad.

To pass the time, I started reading Mom's copy of the Twilight book today. Got about 100 pages in and nothing is happening. Seriously, I don’t understand how this book is popular? In my school, everyone hazes the new kid for the first few weeks they are here…how is it that every kid in that town knows who the dumb bitch is right away?

Day 11:

Mom found the cans of dog food, and she didn't take it well. She began to cry and blame herself for it. I tried to tell her that it's ok, but she just wouldn't listen. She spent all night sobbing in her room. I felt like a horrible son for letting her catch on to what I was doing, but what else can I do? We don’t have any more food, and I’ll have to head out in the morning to see what I can scrounge up. I’m thinking I might give cat food a try… ha ha ha.

The AM Radio stations have stopped playing the Christian talk shows. The only thing left now is the Emergency broadcast message telling all of us to head to Portland. The FEMA camp is located at the Rose Garden and the Memorial Coliseum. I kept thinking about how Dad used to take me to the circus at the Coliseum back in the day. That was a lot of fun.

That got me thinking about my Dad again. I wonder how he’d handle this situation? Would he have gone to the camp right away, or would we have stayed and tried to survive here? Dad was never a boy scout, or a survivalist, but he was really good at figuring things out. I wish he was here to tell me how to “figure out” Mom, and get her to leave.

I want to cheer her up. Tomorrow I'll find us some real food if it fucking kills me.

Finished reading Twilight today. The book is one of the worst things I have ever read. I feel stupider for having read it. But I will start on New Moon tomorrow. This is how bored I am.

Day 12:

…Mom killed herself last night...

She came in my room, kissed & hugged me, told me she loved me, went back in her room, closed the door, and then I heard the gunshot.

I didn’t know how to react. I wanted it to be an accident. I wanted her to have fired the gun by mistake.

I waited at the door for a few minutes for any sign of life. I wanted to hear a cry, a whimper, a noise of any kind to signal that she was still alive. After a few agonizing minutes, I knew that she wasn’t alive. I just sat in front of the door and stared at it. I didn’t open the door and go in the room. I left it closed. Part of me wasn’t sure if she would get back up again a minute or so later and try to eat me. I knew she had shot herself in the head, but I had to be sure. I had to wait to make sure that I was safe.

Three hours passed and not a peep from her bedroom. Caroline Francine Paskus, born April 19th, 1972, lay dead on the other side of that door.

I'm lost. I'm scared. I miss my mom and my dad. I'm an orphan now. I'm an orphan in a doomed world.

There are still 2 more bullets in the gun... What's worth living for anymore?

Day 13:

Couldn't function today. I didn't go in to mom's room at all. I just can't look at her like that. Every time I walk to the door to open it and cover up her body, I can’t. My hands tremble as soon as I grab the door knob and they won’t let me turn it. It’s like my body is telling me “No!”

I need to leave this place, but I don't know where to go. The radio says to go to Portland, but how will I get there? I have to learn how to drive. I have to get away from the city and teach myself how to drive a car.

The zombies are getting closer now. They are leaving town in search of more food.  I need to think of an exit strategy and fast.

Day 14:

Mom's room is starting to stink. I still can’t open the door to her room. I just took a bunch of towels from the closet and shoved them in the bottom of the door to cover the smell. It helps, but the smell lingers like crazy.

I wonder how my friends are doing. I wonder how my family is doing. I wonder how anyone is doing. I keep thinking that this will all be over soon. I want this to all go back to normal. I miss TV, I miss video games, I miss the internet...I miss my parents most of all.

The dead are getting really close now. I counted 20 or so of them walking up the street. They are looking for food, it looks like they’ll eat anything they come across. But they keep shuffling towards the house, and I wonder if the smell from my mom is attracting the zombies to my house?

I decided to leave tomorrow. I'm packing up my stuff into a backpack & duffle bag. I am going to leave at dawn.

I need to find a way to bury my mom tonight. I just hope I have the strength to do it...

Day 15:

The zombies came in the middle of the night for mom. They must have smelled her or something. I was packed and ready to go, but I hadn't buried her yet.

They pushed their way in through the living room window. The shattering glass woke me up, and when I went downstairs, they were all over the house. I remembered that I had left my bags next to my bike in the garage.

A few of them saw me as ran through the house, but I was able to avoid getting very close to them.  I ran into the garage, wheeled my bike into the side yard and then I did the only thing I could think of. I locked the zombies in, and lit the house on fire using gasoline and few oily rags...

I jumped on my bike and raced about a block down the street. I watched to see if any of them would follow me. One by one, they walked through the flames and came towards me. They didn’t scream, or make any noise at all as they collapsed to the ground in embers. I looked up towards the house, and saw an orange glow from Mom’s room. One of them had followed the scent upstairs and... I don’t want to think about it. At that moment I felt like I had failed my Mother. My fear prevented me from giving her a proper burial, and now she was engulfed in flames...

Goodbye Mom. I love you...

I wept silently as I watched my childhood burn in the darkness of night...

Day 16:

I didn’t stop riding my bike until I was far out of town. I don’t know if my fire set any of the other houses on fire, and I don’t care. I won’t be going back there again...

I rode my bike about 20 miles north of the city today. I’ve never ridden so much, or so fast in my entire life. I just kept going north, and I never looked behind me. Most of the roads are empty now. There were some abandoned cars here and there, but mostly it was just me.

This afternoon I decided to teach myself how to drive. There was a beat up old Ford Taurus on the side of the road with the driver still in the front seat. I was really quiet while sneaking up to the car, but when I got closer I realized that this woman was already dead. From the smell, it had been a few days, and it looked like something had already munched on her a bit. It was pretty bloody, and I couldn’t tell if the bite marks were human or other.

I opened the passenger door, and did a quick search of the car. The keys were still in the ignition, but she was buckled in. I undid her seat belt, and kicked out her through the front door. It wasn’t the best way to handle this woman’s remains, but what was I going to do? She smelled horrible!

Next, I got in the driver’s seat, turned the key, and the car started right up. I put the car in gear and pressed the gas pedal. The car flew forward and I couldn’t control it! I slammed on the breaks and the car skidded loudly as it stopped...

That’s when I saw them.

The sound from the car’s tires made enough noise to get the attention of a few walkers in the bushes. I heard one moan, and then it sounded like another one heard what he was saying and started walking towards me. Can they communicate with each other?

I jumped out of the car, sprinted back to my bike, and got the hell out of there.

I camped for the night in an abandoned house. There is little food, but I found a road map of the state. I'm still 60 miles away from Portland. I'm exhausted and realizing that I didn't pack enough supplies.

I hope I make it.

Day 17:

Only made it another 5 or 6 miles before my bike tire popped. When I left the house in a hurry, I forgot to grab the tire repair kit on the bench in the garage. I looked around and realized that I was stuck on the I-5 in a sea of deserted cars. I don't know what happened there, but there was a lot of blood... And no bodies.

I took shelter in a RV, while I quietly looked for a replacement bike. I found one, but it was a bike built for a 10 year old girl. I may be the only person left in the world, but even then, I won’t ride around on a bike with tassels. I really want to steal a car, but I don’t want to kill myself.  I decided to camp in the RV for the night.

Day 18:

Motorcycles woke me up. A gang on Harley Davidsons was creeping through the cars. They were looking through all of the cars on the highway for supplies too. I couldn’t tell if they were dangerous or not, they were on alert and had their guns out. I decided to avoid them.

I hid in the standing shower in the bathroom. I was as quiet as I could be, but one of them must have heard me, or seen the RV moving as I got into my hiding spot... and he found me...

I quickly begged him not to kill me, and I offered all the food I had in my bag. He just looked at me, gave a small smile, and helped me up. His name was Charles, and he introduced me to his gang. They were on their way north as well and offered to give me a lift to the FEMA camp.

We all used the RV as a campsite tonight. It seemed like the best way to stay safe for the moment. Charles asked me all the questions an adult would ask a 17 year old in a situation like this. I told him the truth about Dad, Mom, and the house. He told me that they saw smoke about 30 miles back, but they didn’t check it out. I kept wondering if I unintentionally burned down my hometown in my escape. Part of me hoped I did, and that I took a whole bunch of those assholes down at the same time.

Day 19:

I spent the day with Charles on the back of his bike. He told me how bad it was out there. He told me about all the cities they passed that are abandoned, all the gas stations that were bone dry, and all the zombies that they killed. They were a hardened bunch, something like you’d see in an episode of Sons of Anarchy (which I watched when my mom wasn’t looking). But whenever someone would talk about a woman or child they “put out of their misery”, I could see that it bothered them. Charles told me that the gang came from Redding, CA, and because all of SoCal is overrun with zombies, they headed for Portland is the nearest "safe zone".

We stopped in Tigard for the night (right outside of Portland). The city was quiet and empty as we passed through. No real sign of life anywhere aside from a few walkers. But we just avoided them. Not worth the risk of alerting more just to kill a few.

But we did take shelter in a Fred Meyer right off the freeway.

Day 20:

It started to rain pretty hard last night. So we spent the day in the grocery store.

I helped the guys block off the sliding glass doors at the two entrances. We strung together a bunch of shopping carts from the parking lot and wedged them in front of the door. It’s not the best barricade in the world, but it’s enough to keep back whoever’s coming in.

After that I took the time and wandered around the store. I did some “back-2-school” shopping for some new clothes and shoes. Mostly, I just wanted a new pair of socks and underwear. I know its something simple, but they feel the best when they are new...or when they come out of the dryer, but there was no dryer hooked up anywhere in the store. I also looked through the movies and video games. I found an unopened Nintendo 3DS but... no power means I can’t charge it. Shit... But I took it, and a few games anyways.

I did find a portable radio in the employee break room. It still worked, and I was able to tune into the AM stations broadcasting the message about the camp. It was the same message over and over again. That gave me comfort to know that hope is still out there.

I saw Charley's guns in his bag and he offered to teach me how to shoot. He, and this guy named Frog (the mechanic of the gang) taught me how to aim and shoot a .22 caliber rifle. We used the Women's clothing section as a shooting range so no one would be bothered.  He said I picked it up really quick too. Aside from the kick of the pistol, it felt just like playing a light-gun game in the arcade. No wonder parents try to blame school shootings on video games...

The rest of the evening was uneventful. We scrounged up whatever food we could find and cooked it up. If the rain clears up tomorrow, we’ll be packing up and making our way to the FEMA camp.

Day 21:

Our "campsite" didn't stay secure for long. Last night, one of guys snuck outside for a smoke, and somehow it got the attention of one walker. That one zombie moaned and it echoed enough to get the attention of more. We did our best to re-barricade the doors, but within a few hours, 50 of those things were banging on the sliding glass doors, trying to get in.

When enough of them pushed against the doors, the glass shattered and they were inside. The shopping cart barricade held them for a bit. Everyone grabbed a gun and tried to get headshots, but most of the guys weren’t great with hitting a small target from more than a few feet away. A few zombies were killed, but a lot of bullets were wasted. Within a minute or two, the wave of undead pushed through the shopping carts and attacked the club. It was chaos. Biker versus Zombie in hand to hand combat. The 13 guys from the club weren’t able to hold their own against the walkers. Even with their leather jackets on, the zombies still bit and scratched their faces, and once that happened, they were done for.

Charles and Frog were protecting me at the rear of the pack. They shot and killed a couple of them, but the noise from the shattering glass, gunshots and moaning, attracted more of them to the store. I saw at least another 30 or 40 more in the parking lot, shambling towards us.

A few seconds later it became obvious that we had no chance of winning this fight. When it was just the three of us left, Charles led Frog and me to the other entrance. We quickly moved the barrier and ran out the other door into the suburbs behind the Fred Meyer.

We could still hear the screams of the rest of the club almost a mile away.

Frog found us a small house to stay in for the night. It had an old Chevy truck in the garage that he said he could fix. He did that while Charles and I looked for food and other supplies. Charles was silent for the night. I could tell that he was mourning the death of his friends just like I did with my Mom and Dad.

Day 22:

In the morning, Charles and I looted other houses for supplies while Frog, a mechanic, fixed a truck we found.

We saw a couple zombies, but Charles killed them silently. He taught me how to use a compound bow we found in the house we stayed in last night. He told me that the bow is better than a gun because it has reusable ammo. But he also said that I have to be more careful with a bow and arrow because I have to focus my shot and really aim for the head.

Charles had an odd training method too. He took one of the dead zombies, and propped him up against a fence. He then told me to aim for the guy’s head. Something about this felt very wrong to me, and when I tried to protest, Charles reminded me that it’s us against them out there, and training is necessary to survive. He was right, and while I didn’t feel good about the whole situation, it was good practice to learn my enemy and become familiar with the weapon. We trained for a couple hours in the backyard while Frog finished up the truck.

The truck was finished as nightfall set in, and we're heading to the FEMA camp tomorrow.

Day 23:

Luckily, Frog had spent time in Portland when he was younger, so he was able to navigate the truck through the suburb streets through Tigard and into Portland. It was a slow ride because of all the abandoned cars on the main roads. The truck didn’t have GPS, so Frog had to remember which streets went which way.

The scariest part was driving through the actual city. We had to take it slow because none of the streets were clear. The dead were everywhere, and if they heard the truck, they made their way right for it. Frog was worried that if we didn’t get to a main road, we might get stuck in a dead end somewhere and have 1,000 of those things on our ass. Charles hopped in the bed of the truck with his pistol to guard us.

This was fine until Frog made a wrong turn and we ended up right in between a group of about 15 of them and no real way of backing up safely. The brakes on the truck were squeaky, and this got the attention of the walkers. They began to come towards us, and Frog quickly tried to turn us around. That’s when Charles did the craziest thing, he grabbed a can of corn from our duffle bag and he jumped out of the back of the truck. He ran over to a parked Prius and smashed in the window with the can. The car alarm went off and drew the attention of the zombies, who were now shuffling at the new noise. Charles ducked down and ran back to the truck just as Frog got us turned around.

Note to self: Zombies look like they can communicate with each other, they somewhat stick in groups, and they are attracted to loud noises over movement.

About an hour later we finally reached the Rose Garden…

The FEMA camp was destroyed.

We couldn’t get too close because there were over 1,000 zombies swarming the tents. It looked like a war was waged here from all the bodies on the ground. I could see several National Guard Hummers scattered around, as well as what looked like a makeshift campsite just next to the medical tents. Charles said that it must have been where the survivors were staying when they came here. I asked him what he thought happened here, and he told me “I don’t know”. Frog figured that someone who was bitten slipped past the check point and infected the whole crowd. Charles disagreed and pointed to a big portion of the fencing that had been pushed down. He figured that it where the zombies pushed down the gate and entered the camp.

We didn’t stay much longer after that.

I asked Charles where we’re going next, and he shrugged. The FEMA camp was the only plan he really had. We all agreed that it would be best to keep going north. Its 300 miles between Portland and Seattle, and maybe they are having better luck than this dead city…?

We took shelter in an abandoned motel in Jantzen Beach, and decided that we were going to cross the Columbia river tomorrow.

Day 24:

It took us half the day to cross the Columbia River and get into Vancouver. We followed the I-5 through the city and to the Interstate Bridge that connects Portland to Vancouver. The roads were cluttered with empty cars and there weren’t many zombies roaming around. I think this was in part because bridge’s vertical lifts had been turned on, and the middle section of the bridge was pretty high in the air.

We stopped the truck and checked to see if we could find a control unit to lower the bridge. Charles suggested that we ditch the truck and climb up to the lifted part of the bridge and cross over that way. He said the sound from the bridge lowering might alert more zombies than we can handle, and would rather leave the truck than fight off 1,000 or so zombies. He had a point.
We grabbed our gear, ditched the truck, and climbed the access ladder to the bridge. Thankfully it wasn’t raining, so we were able to do it safely. On the other side, Frog scouted for a working vehicle while Charles and I kept an eye out for any of the undead.

About 30 minutes later Frog was able to get a Honda Civic jumpstarted and ready to go. It was small, but it worked. We loaded it up and continued up the I-5, and in to Vancouver.

This is when we met a few survivors who were guarding a barricade on the freeway. We told them where we came from, and that we needed a place to stay for the night. They escorted us back to their base camp, which was a Lutheran Church right off the freeway, and said we could stay here for a few days as long as we worked for room and board.

I find out what my new “job” is tomorrow.

Day 25:

The survivors in Vancouver are being led by Tim, he’s a pastor from the church who spent 30 years in the military. He is the one who decides the jobs, and he is the one who decides who stays or goes. He didn’t like the look of the guys (because of their biker gear, and possibly tattoos) and told them they have to help “clean up” the streets if they want food & shelter. When Charles asked what he meant by “clean up the streets”, Tim said that he wants to return his city to normal as soon as possible. He wants them to clean out any dead bodies (walking or otherwise) from houses and take back the city, one neighborhood at a time.

I was given the job of babysitting some of the younger kids. I asked to go with Charles, but Tim said no. He kept telling me that I was too young to do “that kind of Lord’s work”.

He’s a douche bag.

Day 26:

Babysitting fucking sucks! I don’t mind looking after the middle school aged kids (at least they play Pokemon), but I hate 2 year olds! I can’t stand the crying and the fussing. I really hope I wasn’t like this when I was a kid. If I was, I can’t understand why Mom didn’t drown me the moment I made noise.

One of the women here, her name is Lucy, was telling me that our brains are hardwired to respond to the sound of a crying baby. We hear that noise and we have to do something. She said that if it bothers me that much, I’ll be a good father…and then she tried to introduce me to her sister Emily. Emily is 14, really really really religious, and smells funny. I know that sounds horrible to say, but she just has this odor about her that I can’t put my finger on.

I get that people are going to want to start repopulating as soon as they can, but I don’t want to lose my virginity to a girl that just wants me to give her a baby. Nope.

I practiced with the bow in my free time. I’m finally getting the hang of it and I’m able to actually hit the target from about 25 feet now.

Charles and Frog have been going through the city and “purifying” it — according to douche bag Tim.

They don’t like it at all, but in order for us to stay here they have to. Charles was telling me that none of the other guys really work as a team. They keep going off alone and almost getting themselves eaten alive by a swarm of zombies. He said that one of those idiots is going to get him killed. I told him that I’d get his back if Tim would let me. Charles just smiled and told me that he knows and that I’m safer here back at the church.

I can handle myself. I just wish they’d understand that.

Day 27:

Charles let it slip that I’m an orphan to Tim, and now he’s trying to counsel me about my grief. I appreciate him trying, but I wish he’d keep God out of it. He says that this plague is God’s way of “purging the earth without salting it”… Whatever that means?

Emily was watching my practice with my bow today. She’s been smiling at me all weird like from a distance. Lucy says she has a crush on me and keeps trying to get me to talk to her. I just ignored her and went back to shooting at my target.

Frog said he is going to teach me how to drive, because every 17 year old should know how to.

Day 28:

After “work” (brat-sitting), Frog took me out and taught me the basics of driving a stick. He made the joke “if you can masturbate, you can drive a manual transmission”… Something to do with the gear shift looking like a penis.  Frog is a weird guy. He is always making sexual jokes and references. I picked up how to switch gears pretty quick, but the biggest problem I had was going from first to second gear. I always seem to over react to the clutch and I slam on the gas too much. I’m getting it as fast as I can.

Tim was talking to Charles about the 3 of us sticking around for good. He likes the way the guys work, and how they put the safety of the group over themselves. They can stay if they want, but I’m gonna bounce the first chance I get.

We’ve only been here for a few days, but I don’t want to stay here. I can’t be part of Tim’s plan. He wants to reclaim Vancouver in the name of God. That’s not a bad thing for him, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life (which could be very short) stuck in a town like this. I want to see as much of the world as I can. This oddly enough, feels more possible now that the world is over as we know it.

Maybe I can talk Charles and Frog into heading to Australia? I wonder if that is even possible anymore?

Day 29:

Sunday school was today. Because Pastor Tim kept the kids busy learning 'bout God, I got to tag along with the guys on a mission.

The mission was to infiltrate and secure a strip mall 4 blocks from the church. Charles and Frog weren’t the church-going types, and decided to take this mission solo. Usually about 5 or 6 guys handle the cleanup of an area, but a strip mall with only a few stores wasn’t going to be a problem.

We didn’t bother to drive any car over to the strip mall. Even with the quietness of Frog’s Prius, he didn’t want to risk being seen in the daytime by any walkers.

The strip mall wasn’t at all like I expected it to be. For some reason I figured the stores would be stuff like a 7-11, a Starbucks, a Plaid Pantry, or maybe even a McDonald’s or a Taco Bell. It wasn’t. This group of stores was nothing but a Dry Cleaners, Tax Broker, a Car Wash and Liquor store. I asked Charles why we were going to clean out this place, and he told me that we needed air fresheners to cover up our smell when we hunt zombies... I think he was joking.

Charles asked me if I wanted to practice with the bow on a few moving targets. I told him “yes!” He found me a good perch on top of a delivery truck, and pointed at a few walkers for me to practice on. He gave a small whistle and got the attention of the three zombies in front of the car wash. I knocked an arrow and waited for them to stumble their way over to us.

Once they were in range, I started target practice. I hit the first one in the neck, and all it did was push him back a little bit. I fired another arrow at him and this time it hit him just above his eye. The body dropped immediately. I killed the rest of them with only a few more arrows. After that, I waited in the back of the delivery truck while the guys finished cleaning out the mall. To congratulate me on my success, Charles gave me a 6-pack of Smirnoff Ice. He said not to tell Tim.

Later in the evening, I started to think about how easy it was to kill those zombies. Not easy in the sense of how quickly they died, but how easy it was for me to kill them. I’ve never thought of myself as a violent person, but this came so naturally. It scared me. Did I like it? I didn’t know. Did I enjoy it? Maybe a little. Did I want to go out and kill more of them? Possibly.

I know that, as humans, we’re wired to do anything when it comes to self-preservation. And in the moment, when the adrenaline is pumping...we’ll do anything. But it’s in the quiet afterwards that we calm down and become rational again. This is when we reflect on our actions and decisions... This is where I am reflecting on my actions today, and I don’t know how to feel about them at this moment.

Day 30:

I realized today that it’s been 1 month since the dead began to feast on the living. I'm becoming used to the idea that life won't return to normal and I won't get new episodes of South Park any time soon... I read somewhere that it takes 21 days to develop a habit, and if you go 21 days in a certain situation, you kind of learn to live with it.

Don’t get me wrong, I still miss my Mom and Dad. But I miss them a little less than I did a few weeks ago. And when I made that realization this morning, I broke down and cried in my bed. I didn’t let Charles or Frog see me cry, I didn’t want them to think I’m just a little kid who misses his mom...but the truth is, I am. No matter how fucked up the world gets, nobody would turn down a chance to have their mom hold them and tell them that everything is going to be ok...

Everything is going to be ok.

There wasn’t much going on today so I spent the afternoon babysitting and playing Pokemon with the kids. Emily came by and watched me for a while. So I invited her to play a game with us. She had never played the trading card version of the game before, so I taught her. It was weird how fascinated she was with how the game worked. She had always been told that card games were “the Devil’s work”, and that they always led to gambling and bad deeds. I explained to her that these kinds of card games aren’t evil, and they are fun. And after about 30 minutes of training she was a regular Pokemon Master.

Before parting ways tonight, I asked Emily to say a prayer for my Mom and Dad. She said ok, and then kissed me on the cheek before leaving.

That was the first time I’d been kissed by a girl since I played spin the bottle at Megan Falstead’s party two years ago.

It felt good...

But this doesn’t mean that her and I are going out or anything.

Day 31:

I officially cannot stand Vancouver anymore. Fucking Pastor Tim won't let me do anything other than my "duties", and he's trying to talk me into being baptized. Fuck this guy. I get it, he wants to help me, and he wants to “save my soul”, but it’s my decision if I want to be saved, not his.

He even used Emily against me. He had her come to me and talk to me about accepting Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. He used a 15 year old girl to trick me in to staying here. Nope! I’m done. First chance I get, I am leaving here and never coming back.

I talked to the guys about leaving. Frog likes it here because he’s been secretly banging this MILF named Julia. I’ve met her a few times, she’s got two girls, and pretty easy on the eyes (as Frog puts it). Charles admitted to being ready to leave Vancouver too. He’s thankful for the hospitality that Tim has given us, and he doesn’t want to leave without repaying him in full, but he’s ready to move on.

Where would we go? That question kept running through my mind today. The radio is still telling everyone to go to Seattle. That broadcast hasn’t changed in weeks now. If it’s still active, that means it should be safe there, right?

There was an incident today. One of the guys here, Brian, was out on patrol and he was attacked by a few zombies. He was tore up pretty bad when he made it back to the church. The walkers had taken big bites out of his arms, chest, and legs. Some of the ladies tried to patch him up, but Tim knew it was too late. He walked over to Brian, knelt down, and gave him his last rights. Then, in front of all of us, Tim pulled out a gun, cocked it, and shot Brian in the head. The scary thing was this... he had no remorse in his eyes after he did it. It was like he enjoyed it.

It creeped me out. And it doubled my thoughts for wanting to leave here immediately.

Day 32:

Roddy, another one of the survivors, built a "cantenna" and hooked it up to a CB radio. He was able to pick up a conversation between other two other guys talking about heading to Seattle. They said the Puget Sound is safe, and a PMC(?) called STORMBREAKER was offering food and shelter for everyone.

Frog said that he had heard for Stormbreaker before. They were a Private Military Company that did some nasty shit in Iraq a few years back. They opened fire on a crowd of civilians and ended up killing 15 people, and 3 US soldiers who didn’t know they were there, and started firing back. Since then, they’ve been keeping a low profile. It looks like they have come back in this time of need.
I told the guys that we should head there. It would be safer than here in Vancouver at least, and we’d be away from Tim. Charles wanted to know where the National Guard was, or the even the Navy guys who have a base in Bremerton? Why were merc’s running the show? He said that he’s interested in leaving, but he doesn’t trust mercenaries to protect his life.

Day 33:

I keep thinking about Seattle. Is it really as safe as they say? Can I survive there? Can I be important there? These are all questions I asked myself while babysitting today. I just can’t seem to shake the idea that Seattle is the best place for me to be. Charles wasn’t around for me to talk with him about it, but I think I have to give him time to think about going there. He said that he doesn’t trust the Mercenaries that are running the city, but maybe he’s wrong? Maybe they have their shit under control? After all, there they have guns, and food, and ammo, and they can fight any number of undead that come at them. Isn’t that they what they are trained for anyways? But then I wonder about this Stormbreaker Company and what they’re about… you never hear good things about mercenaries.

I want the guys to come with me. But I’ll understand if they don’t want to.

If Charles and Frog refuse to leave, then I will go on my own. I don’t want to leave them, but I know that I don’t want to stay here.

Maybe Emily will come with me? It’s not like I like her as anything more than a friend or anything, but she can cook, clean, sew, and do things that I can’t. Besides, I think it would do her good to get away from Tim and his brand of craziness. I’ll have to think more about this.

I started reading a book on wilderness survival today. If I’m going to be on my own, I need to learn how to live on my own without the comforts of home. Did you know that moss only grows on the north side of a tree? I didn’t.

You learn something new every day.

Day 34:

I realized today that I haven’t conquered it in almost a month. Not that I’m trying to be too graphic in my own blog, but I was feeling pretty antsy. Once that was taken care of, my day felt brighter.

After work I continued to read the survival guide. I’m learning a lot from it. It says that when encountering a bear in the woods, its best to throw my arms up and yell really loud, so I can trick the bear into thinking I’m larger than I am. Interesting. It kind of reminds me of this story about a kid who saved his sister from a Moose based on something he learned playing World of Warcraft.

Charles and Frog had a bad day. Roddy, one of the newer survivors, and a pretty good electrician, was bitten today while out on a run. I didn’t see what happened when he came back, but Charles told me that after what Tim did to the other guy that Roddy decided to “go out on his own terms”. He asked that Charles and Frog not say anything to Tim, so he could go say goodbye to his wife and daughter. The shitty thing was that Jerry, who’s a very loyal member of Tim’s church, found out about the bite and ratted him out.

I didn’t see what happened next, but I heard the yelling…I heard Roddy begging to say goodbye to his wife, and I heard Tim tell Jerry and a few other guys to put Roddy in a room by himself.
I stayed with the kids while the adults cleaned everything up. Roddy’s daughter Elizabeth had no idea why her Daddy was gone and her Mommy was crying. The only thing I could do was teach her how to play blackjack and try to keep her mind off of it.

Day 35:

Roddy is still in quarantine today. Charles brought him some water and saw how the quickly the disease was spreading. All Roddy got was a little bit on his forearm, and less than 24 hours later he is white as a ghost, covered in sweat, and feeling his internal organs die one at a time. Charles thought about killing Roddy himself, but Tim won’t let anyone put him out of his misery. Tim quotes the bible any time someone brings it up. Says it’s not God’s way.
This is causing a lot of commotion amongst all of us here. Especially Roddy’s wife and daughter, who haven’t been allowed to say their goodbye’s yet.

What I don’t get is how Tim won’t let us kill Roddy, but he’ll let us kill the undead in town? Hypocrite.

But, I did see Tim and Jerry watching Roddy most of the day. I think they were wanting to see how long it took for the sickness to kill him, and for him to return to life. They were studying him like a fucking lab rat. They were letting him suffer, while they watched and logged notes about how things were progressing. Bastards.

Elizabeth keeps asking me to take her to see her Dad. It’s getting harder and harder to tell a 6-year old that she can’t say “goodbye” to her father. I know I would want that if I wasn’t given the chance.

Day 36:

Roddy died last night…and he came back to life a few minutes later. They had him locked away in a small side room with a window slit in the door, and Tim and Jerry were there to watch. Charles waited next to the door with a fire axe, and he was ready to take Roddy down as soon as Tim ordered. I could see that he didn’t want to do it, but he knew what had to be done.

This is when Roddy did something that no one was expecting. When he became a zombie, he got up and started running around the room. He was grunting frantically and running into everything. I could hear the slams against the door and walls from the next room. The way Charles described it was that he acted like a crazy person who was throwing the world’s largest temper tantrum. He seemed to have unlimited energy and was looking for any kind of food. At one point he saw Tim looking through the window at him, and he tore at the door for a half-hour without any sign of slowing down. But, at about the 90 minute mark, he started to slow down. His frantic energy went away, and he stiffened up like a board.

Apparently, an hour and a half after death is when Rigor Mortis sets in. I remember learning about this last year in Biology class, and it is when the body’s muscles stop moving and they tighten up. If this happened to everyone, then that would explain how the disease spread so fast. 90 minutes of running around non-stop will allow a zombie to attack and feed on any human he faces.

As soon as Roddy acted like a normal zombie, Tim gave Charles the order to go in and finish him. I could hear Roddy growling when Charles entered the room, and then a minute later…there was silence.

When Charles came out of the room, he looked at me and nodded. It was my job to go and inform Elizabeth and her mom Tina, that Roddy was gone.

That was the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my entire life.

I never want to do it again.

Day 37:

There was an incident at the southern blockade coming into Vancouver this morning. A few more survivors were coming up the 14-west, merged on the 5-north, and crashed as they attempted to slam through the road block in their mini-van.

It was a family of 4 in the van, and only 2 survived the accident. An 8-year old boy and a 6-year old girl. Their parents died in the impact from not wearing their seatbelts. The guys rushed the kids back to the church as fast as they cool and asked me to watch the kids while they “took care” of the parents who had been infected and came back to life after the crash.

Emily and I fed the kids, and patched up their cuts and bruises. We checked for bite or infected scratch marks, but both kids were clean. However, both of the kids were running a pretty high fever, so we gave them some ice packs and tried to cool them down as best we could.

I asked the little boy what happened to him, and he said that his family was hiding, and when they ran out of food, and he and his sister got sick, the family left to find safer things to eat. I didn’t get the chance to ask him what he meant by “safer”, but I’m sure it’s nothing.

Frog and Charles came back from the blockade and told me what happened: Both parents flew through the windshield when the car impacted with the road block. They came back to life almost right away, and the guys there shot them. After they were dead, they checked the bodies and found no bites on either parent. Frog was wondering, even if you die of non-zombie related causes, do you come back to life?

Emily and I stayed with the kids all night long to make sure they were taken care of. I know what it’s like to lose both your parents and be all alone. I didn’t want these little guys to go through the same thing.

Day 38:

I must have blacked out last night, because I woke up to Charles and Frog arguing in our room. Charles was moving the minivan from yesterday and he discovered something “so fucked up” (his words). In the back of the van he found a cooler that was full of severed arms and legs from bodies. Most of the arms had large portions of the flesh carved off of them, and it looked like the family had been resorting to cannibalism to stay alive. I told Charles what the little boy had said to me last night about looking for “safer” food to eat.

It clicked for all three of us at the same time, and we ran into the office we had the kids in…but it was too late...

That’s when we first heard the screams, and a gunshot from inside the church. We followed it and found Emily’s sister Jackie dead on the ground. Next to her was Jerry who was on the ground holding his hand over a gaping hole in his neck. We asked Jerry what happened, and he said that the little girl had attacked and killed Jackie, and she came back as soon as she died. He wasn’t ready for it, and she jumped on him and bit his neck. He knocked her off and shot her in the head. He told us to run and get everyone else out of the church. Then he turned his gun on himself and pulled the trigger.

We ran outside and saw several people running for their lives. The little boy was chasing after Julia and her kids, but he wasn’t able to follow them after they jumped in the bed of a truck. Frog ran over and told Julia to get her kids down. She grabbed them and dropped to the bed of the truck as Frog pulled out his gun and shot the little boy in the chest. The force of the impact knocked him down, and then Frog finished him off with a single shot to the head.

Frog stayed with Julia to make sure her and her kids were safe, as Charles and I ran back into the church looking for anyone else.

I was looking frantically for Emily, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I briefly saw Tim trying to get his daughter Mary out of the church. She was crying hysterically and asking for her Mom and sister. Neither Charles or I stopped to ask if they needed help.

We ran back into our room and quickly threw all of our shit in our bags and got ready to go. Once we were packed, we quietly ran back through the church, and made our way to the parking lot.

The screaming stopped and it was quiet now. We didn’t know what was going on, and we didn’t stop to find out. Even as we ran, I was still looking for Emily. I just wanted to know that she was ok. I wanted to know that she was safe, and I wanted to know that she was alive.

I didn’t see her anywhere.

We got to the parking lot and saw what the gunshots and loud noises had done. They had attracted a large number of walkers with the commotion and they were all coming for us.

Charles told me to run to his truck and get it started. I said that I’m not going anywhere without seeing if Emily was ok. He yelled at me said there was “No time!” I tried to protest, but he grabbed me by the shirt and shoved me towards the truck. I wanted to fight him right then and there, but he was right. We had to bug out as fast as we could.
I ran to the truck as Charles waved Frog over. Frog, Julia, and her girls were in his Prius and ready to go. Charles said to follow them and not to stop for anything. We were “heading towards the 5-North and getting out of here”.

I threw our gear in the bed of the truck and started it up for Charles. As soon as he was in the driver’s seat, he aimed the truck towards the ext and got us out of there.

I looked behind us at the church as we left, and all I could see were hundreds of those things swarming it. I saw Lucy running out into the parking lot and being attacked…but there was nothing I could do.

I stayed quiet as we exited Vancouver, and I said a silent prayer for a city that is now lost to the dead.

Charles led us North to Kelso, where we found a small motel and crashed there for the night.

I spent my final thoughts thinking about Emily. I hoped she was ok. But if she was dead, I hope she was in Heaven where I know she wanted to be.

Day 39:

It was surprisingly peaceful in Kelso last night. It was like God, or the Heavens, or whoever decided to give us a moment of peace to mourn the loss of our friends.

Today wasn’t any different. None of us knew what to do, and none of us really said anything to each other, except for when it was time to eat. Charles spent the day checking our gear and making a list of needed supplies. This is when he realized that I had left my compound bow back at the church. He told me this later, and I was pissed.

Frog and Julia looked after her kids and tried to undo some of the emotional shock that they experienced yesterday. I think it worked, because by the afternoon the girls were laughing and playing jump rope in their room.

As for me, I stayed by myself in my room. I slept most of the day, and I didn’t care what anyone thought about it. I kept thinking back to how it was at my house when my mom was sick, or even after she died. I was locked in a room waiting for the unknown to happen. And here I am in the same situation a month later. I will admit that I didn’t want to live with Tim and his followers, but it was something real...even if it was temporary, it was still real, and it was the closest thing to a home I had. Now that’s gone too. As is Emily...

I miss her. I miss her funny laugh, and the odd way she smelled in the morning. I just miss hanging out with my friend.

At dinner we all decided to have the talk about where we would go next. Frog and Julia had decided to avoid major cities and head west to the coast. Frog had family who lived in Long Beach, Washington and he figured it would be a good place to start over. He asked what we were going to do. Charles looked at me and asked what I think we should do. I told him that I don’t want to go west, that I want to go to Seattle. He looked at Frog and said that he was going with me.

Frog nodded his head and said he understood. He and Charles went outside and spent some time remembering their years together in the Centurions of Fire -- which is the name of their motorcycle club.

We all agreed to part ways in the morning.

After dinner I went back to my room to get some sleep.

Day 40:

After we had breakfast this morning, Frog loaded the girls into his car and we all said our goodbyes. It was weird seeing my friend, who was a member of a biker gang only a few weeks ago, taking on the role of a father and protector. It wasn’t weird in a bad way, it was just different. I guess we all grow up sometime right?

Charles said goodbye to one of his brothers, knowing that he would probably never see him again, and then we got in truck. I saw him almost cry, but he held it back. We watched as the bright red Prius headed south on the freeway towards the coast. Then we got on the northbound on-ramp and went on our way.

Goodbye Frog. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.

The I-5 between Centralia and Olympia was fucking bad. It took us all day to navigate through that mess. There weren't too many zombies on the freeway, but they gathered in mass numbers when they knew we were coming. Charles made sure to avoid them.

We took up camp at an unfinished housing development 20 miles north of Olympia. It was the only place we could find, but it was safe.

Day 41:

We aren't far from Seattle now. The closer we get, the more populated the area has become. The Seattle/Tacoma area is a lot larger than I realized and this means there is more danger to keep an eye out for.

There were cars everywhere on the freeway. It seemed like the entire population of the city all drove on the I-5 at the same time. Charles did his best to get around the cars, but with the rumble from the truck engine and the noise from scraping/hitting other cars on the road, it attracted a lot of unwanted attention.

He got us off the freeway and we found ourselves at a Motel 6. We scoped the place out, and when it was clear, we grabbed a room on the top floor and barricaded the doors.

Charles said that the truck wouldn’t be good to take further into the city. He saw a dealership across the street and figured he could steal a car from it. I suggested that he find a motorcycle, but he decided that it wasn’t practical with the weather in the northwest. It would be great in a dry climate, but where it rains a lot, it’s a death trap. I agreed with him.

Later in the evening, he told me to stay put while he stole a hybrid car from the dealership.

When I asked him why he stole a hybrid, he said that the silence from the car will help us get to Seattle a lot safer.

Day 42:

We drove the car through Tacoma and into the outskirts of Seattle without any problems. There were tons of zombies walking around, but they didn’t pay much attention to us at all.

It’s when we got to the airport (SEATAC) that we realized how bad the city was.

It appeared that Stormbreaker had created a blockade right at the I-5/405 split, and there was a big spray painted sign that said “SAFETY MERCER ISLAND” with an arrow pointed up the 405. Charles started having a bad feeling about this, and asked me if I was sure that I wanted to go to Seattle. I told him “Yes”, and he pushed forward. I don’t know what his beef is with is with the mercenaries, but us going there is safer than us being on our own, so if I had to force/guilt him into it, I would.

When we reached the exit for Mercer Island, we saw something we weren’t expecting. There was a line of over 100 cars trying to get onto the island. From what we could see, the mercenaries had set up a full base on the island and were herding everyone inside it.

Charles asked me again, this time a little more apparent that he didn’t want to be here. I told him that everything would be ok, and that this place is safe. Plus, I said that this is the most people we’ve seen in weeks, and if this many people were still alive after a month, then it couldn’t be too bad out there. He seemed to calm down after this, and we waited our turn in line.

As we waited, the line was patrolled by SB troops. These guys looked tough as shit. They were wearing full body armor, and carrying automatic weapons. Charles pointed out that none of the guns had their safety on, and these guys were itching to shoot anyone that got in their way. After being there for an hour, we saw a woman jump out of her car holding the giant bite mark on her arm. Charles got out of the car to see what was going on, but a SB guard ordered him to get back inside. We watched as three troops surrounded the woman, knocked her down, tied her arms behind her back with zip ties, and then checked the vehicle. I couldn’t see much, but I did see the car shake a lot from something thrashing around inside. The SB troop didn’t even hesitate in taking aim and pulling the trigger. The car stopped moving immediately.

Then the troops watching the woman pulled out their guns and shot her too! I could hear other people in their cars yelling and screaming at what they had witnessed. But no one protested. I think we all knew this had to be done. It’s horrible to think, and even to write down, but it’s true. Had they not killed the woman, she would have killed them. The risk is not worth the reward. The guards moved the woman’s body back into her car, and a person in a bio-hazard suit came out and drove the car away.

Everything was quiet until we got past the front gate. After that we were led to a parking lot where the car was inspected for any weapons or bombs. They took Charles pistol and shotgun, and they took my knife. No weapons were allowed.

Then they led us to the temporary housing units, which were nothing big hollowed out warehouses. Here is where they assigned Charles and I a bunk, and told us that orientation is tomorrow morning at 8am.

We got settled and grabbed some dinner. There were a lot of people here, and not all of them looked healthy. Both Charles and I decided to keep our heads down and not be social.

Day 43:

5 people died and became zombies in the middle of the night. They were able to attack another 17 people before being shot by Stormbreach troops.

This caused all of us to go into a panic. If you so much as coughed people were willing to kill you on the spot. This place was as unprotected as it gets. The SB troops weren’t screening anyone before coming in. They were just putting us all here like cattle and seeing who comes out alive.

At 8am sharp is when the loud speaker kicked on and “orientation” began. We were instructed that this was only temporary housing, and that due to the overwhelming numbers of survivors, space in Seattle was limited. If you were a doctor, or a mechanic, or an engineer, you were let in to the city immediately. If you were just a normal joe trying to survive, you were given a lottery ticket. 20 lottery numbers were called out each day. Until your number is called, you have to stay on the island.

One thing I noticed last night when the people were infected and killed, the other survivors immediately looted their bodies. At first I didn’t understand why, but it made sense now. They were looking for the lottery tickets. I guess the more you have, the better your chances....

I’m just thankful that Charles is looking out for me. Had I come here on my own, I don’t think I would have survived very long. I started wondering about his family, and if he misses them at all? He never talks about his family, he’s never said whether he’s single or married, or if he even has kids. Maybe the MC was his family...and they’re all gone now...

Day 44:

25 more killed last night after 200 more survivors showed up with a few sick people among them.

The sounds of the doors to the warehouse opening woke me up at 2am. I could see the crowd of people being ushered in, and handed their tickets. The rest of us were alert and looking at the new people were walking in all scared and wide-eyed. One lady was wrapped up in a blanket and coughing loudly. Some asshole saw her, and ordered the guards to shoot her on the spot. She protested and said that she just had a cold, but the guy wouldn’t listen. He ran at her, and punched her right in the face. She fell down and hit her head on a locker box.

The whole room was silent while we waited for her to get up... She didn’t.

The SB guards went over to check her body, and that’s when she jumped back up. The tried to shoot her, but they missed and shot the people behind her. The rest of the warehouse ducked for cover, but the woman started biting and scratching at whatever she could. She was able to bite and scratch about 10 more people before they finally put her down by hitting her in the knee with a bat, and then shooting her in the head.

Then came the part that is burned into my mind for the rest of my life. The SB troops grabbed all the people who had been bit and drug them outside. There was a woman who had been bitten trying to protect her children, and kids were trying to run after her, but the guards pushed the kids back before slamming the door shut.

We could hear the cries and screams from the people outside of the warehouse. They were begging for their lives, and not even a minute later we heard the gunfire. The sound echoed through the metal walls of the warehouse...and then it was silent.

Charles and I tried going back to sleep, but we ended up keeping to ourselves all day

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