BLOG CLOSED!!!

Hi Zombie Fans! I regret to inform all of you that this zombie blog has now come to a close. It has been increasingly difficult to find time to continue the story without leaving any long gaps in days between posting. I am also finding it difficult to think of new storylines & have gradually lost interest and anticipation to write anything new. The lack of interest from people viewing it has also made me decide to call it quits. I did have a plan for a big finale in the form of a final epic video, however again I no longer have time to continue work on this project as I have now started a new job. I thank everyone for your support and kind messages, I hope you all enjoyed the story until now.

Thank you for reading

Dave.

Day 105

I cannot believe it has been over 100 days since this whole situation started, things are showing no signs of improvement. Internet sites have stopped updating, no new films or TV shows are being made, but one thing is for sure, the dead continue to rule the world. The Internet has been down the last few days, so I haven't been able to update. It has been depressing being on my own again, I started to get attached to Steve, for a while normality had set in, it was like having a mate round to stay, and as soon as he arrived, the viral plague dominating the Earth came and took him too. I had to drag his body out and I left it beside Robyn's body. I couldn't even bring myself to look at her, The stench was too overpowering, and swamped with flies and maggots, I couldn't see properly, but there really wasn't much left of her now, just meaty bones. I don't think I could bring myself to get attached to anyone else if they came into my life, its too hurtful when they go, leave me behind to deal with life on my own in this personal hell. I kept thinking I should just turn the gun on myself, end it while I still have whats left of my own sanity, but I keep hanging on this feeling that one day there will be an end to all this and we can start life again. Am I being tested? is this my fate? Why am I still alive and able to continue while everyone else is nothing more than undead monsters. Some people are happy the way things are, I can imagine that if you are with the right people and surviving in the right place, this kind of life could be paradise, I mean who complain when living in a world with no rules? You can do what you want, take what you want and kill who you want. That all seems like fun, but I am not in any kind of situation where I can say I'm enjoying it. I couldn't live in a community with other people, I enjoy my own company too much, however with living in a community in a world with no rules, you end up living under rules of those who decide to lead the rest.
So how does it feel to actually kill someone living? Unlike Robyn, Steve hadn't turned so he was in fact still alive at the time, even though he was due to turn at any time. I can honestly say it felt easier than I expected, you hear about people who have killed people in car crashes and even people in prison for murder talk about how they are tortured every day afterwards for it. I didn't feel like that at all, am I different? Am I a closet serial killer who has no conscience or empathy? I can't say, its probably easier to blame it on the situation where its kill or be killed, a split second determines whether or not you get to live or die. I have been completely desensitised to death, murder and killing, and it didn't take long for that social boundary to change in me. I guess we really are no different from animals, but by being able to communicate and having a society like we do, its the one thing that separates us from animals. So now we have no society, we can only now be animals.

Day 99

It is a sad day for me today, I woke up and forgot about everything for a split second before my brain switched on and I realised I was alone, again. In the start, Steve tried to hold out as best he could, first by trying to hide that he was infected, but by yesterday it was impossible, he lost all colour in his face, his eye sockets had sunk and started to go dark too. If it wasn't for his visual appearance giving it away, it was the constant vomiting, coughing and clutching his head in pain. I sat there and said "Stop trying to deny it, you know you are infected, I know you are infected so lets stop trying to cover it up." He then tried to grab at straws, in his own desperation trying anything he could to stay in the flat. First he said he was fighting it as hard as he could and was not going to turn into one of those things, which I knew was futile as no person can ever fight the virus for long, no matter how strong the will power. Then he  tried to justify that by throwing him out was murder, when he was still alive, and that he had no way of defending himself when he couldn't even climb off the sofa. He then tried the classic "I thought we were friends" line to save himself. We had only known each other for a short amount of time, had more differences than anything in common and to be fair if we had bumped into each other before this happened, we probably wouldn't have given a second glance. To be fair if I were in his position I too would probably think of any excuse possible to stay within the house. However, by the afternoon, his breathing got deep and shallow, he turned to me, paused for a second and began to talk.

"I'm not going to fight this am I? I can feel the infection swelling in my head, fighting against my urges to resist it. I can't take the pain anymore and I don't want to turn into one of those. I need you to kill me while I am still me, while I'm still human."

I didn't know what to say or do, I didn't want this moment to arrive, but to ensure my own survival, know it has to be done. He said that he didn't want to see it coming or to feel it so he was taking a bunch of sleeping tablets and as soon as he is in a deep sleep, I needed to do it, quick and painless. The only real option I had was either beating his skull with a maglite (again) a hammer or my pistol. I had seen enough gore and leaky brain leakage to send me over the edge, from being hit around the skull, not to mention if I didn't hit the right place hard enough the first time, he could wake up and suffer while I had to continue crushing his skull in. That is no way to die and its not quick if done wrong. I was lucky with Robyn because she was already dead when I used the maglite on her, so there was no real suffering. Then I had an idea, I was going to use the gun, however I needed to find a way to muffle the loud noise. It didn't come with a silencer so I had to make one of my own.
I found an old empty plastic bottle of coke, this was perfect, and after checking the drawer I came across some duct tape, I now had my one shot disposable silencer. I put the nozzle of the pistol into the empty bottle, I then wrapped the tape around the gun, creating an airtight closure inside the bottle. This way when fired the loud bang of the gun would be kept within the bottle until the bullet crashed out the end, by which time the noise would have faded out. Of course this only works once, but once was all I needed. Steve was lying asleep on the sofa, I didn't particularly want to see his head open up in front of me so I placed a pillow over his face, then rested the bottle on the pillow. I took a deep breath, looked away and pulled the trigger. The silencer worked, it made a very weird 'PHUT!' noise, but it wasn't loud enough to alert any other zombies. A small cloud of feathers blew out from the pillow, Steve's body twitched violently, then his muscles relaxed.
I went into my bedroom and collapsed on the bed, I just lay there making no sound feeling like rock bottom. I was alone, again. I hated being alone because it sent me mad, Steve was there and having company made everything better, now like Robyn, he was gone too. The only good thing to come out of this was the food was going to last longer, however I didn't deserve any of it, Steve made all the sacrifices, he collected it and did all the work, I just kept my eye out, and a bad job that turned out to be. I haven't worked out what I'm going to do with Steve's body yet, for the moment I am just going to relax and enjoy the quiet.

Day 95

Tension has started to rise since the incident on Sunday, Steve has started acting like a cornered rodent, trying to prove he is okay and that I don't need to worry. He keeps his arm wrapped up in tea towels because we have no bandages, didn't think to stock up on any when looking for food before, every now and again the towel will expose the wound, made worse from the metal sponge he used to shed skin and meat away in his cleaning frenzy. It looked infected, but was impossible to tell if it was infected from the disease or the fact it had been made worse when Steve tried to scrub out any trace of the bite. I didn't want to rock the boat by mentioning it to him, I wanted to make him feel like I believed he was okay, and that I thought he was safe.
I had to, at the end of the day he has nothing more to lose, I knew he believed he was infected you could see it in his eyes, but if I hinted even a little bit I knew too, who knows what he was capable of. There is nothing more dangerous than a man with a life countdown and nothing to lose, the last thing I need is him trying to kill me or exposing our position to any other zombies, so I just have to bide my time and stay alert. I have noticed he has developed a cough, he tries to hide it of course, but its not really that possible to do that for long. I remember Robyn had a cough, I never paid attention to it at first or even noticed it, because back then I was blind to what was going on outside. I woke up to Steve heaving in the shit bucket, he was doing it in the kitchen with the door closed, he thought I was asleep, but how could I sleep when I had a potential monster growing in my flat with me? While he is here I don't think I will be able to sleep again, I can't kick him out, not only is that the worst thing to do as he is still alive, kicking him out to the snarling dead waiting, but I know if I tried to use force it could end up going bad. I keep the pistol with me at all times, I even removed the clip and hid it so if he decided to try and suddenly kill me, it wouldn't be in the form of a bullet. There are enough make shift weapons around the house anyway, however I wouldn't want to go out with a cold round to the head when my guard was down. Pretty soon he will start to lose colour in his face and start to show advanced effects of infection, this will be impossible to hide, he will know this and that is what I am worried about, he will no longer believe that I think he is fine, he will know I'm lying. I think I have 2 maybe 3 days at a push before I may have to make a choice.
I am just trying to keep everything under control, it is also nice to have some food inside me, home grown fruit and vegetables do taste different to the ones in the shop, but I didn't care I could feel the energy fill back up again. I need to try and eat as much as possible because I fear I will need all my strength in the upcoming days.

Day 93

Its all gone bad, everything has completely gone wrong, Steve has been bitten, he's fucking infected! We made our plan to go out and collect vegetables from peoples gardens which seemed easy enough, but it went bad, really bad. We were going to leave first thing in the morning, but the rain was pretty hard and decided to wait it out. The sky cleared up late afternoon so we got ready and left via our usual route down the stairs and out the overhang. The rain slightly covered the putrid smell of rot and death and was soothing to yet again get a clean lung of fresh air. Everything outside seemed fine, there was no sign of any zombies up close. We spotted a single roamer down the road, but he was too far away to see or smell us so we paid no attention to him. After crossing the main road we came to the houses we needed to get into. We followed the path round to the cul-de-sac where the back garden fences were. I was lucky that I had lost over 2 stone in the last few months so It was a lot easier than if I tried when I was 21 stone. The first garden had nothing in except a kids trampoline and knee high overgrown, unkept grass. The adjoining garden was the one that had all the goodies, so at lest the fence was much smaller at waist height. We were careful to keep an eye on the houses to make sure there were no zombies or even worse, angry and armed survivors ready to kill us for stealing their produce. Luck was on our side because there was no sign of life or undead life anywhere. We waded through the wet grass towards the greenhouse. it was locked with a heavy duty Yale padlock, which seemed a bit pointless when the whole thing was made from glass. Steve took off his hoodie, covered it over a pane of glass and smashed it with the shower curtain pole. The hoodie muffled out most of the noise and also prevented him from getting cut. He then pulled out the large jagged piece still sticking in the pane and placed it on the grass. Steve was smaller than me, so he climbed through the hole and started packing up the bag with anything he could get his hands on. I told him to slow down as there wasn't any hurry, due to being in a safe area with no sign of zombies being able to spot us. Steve managed to bag 7 cucumbers a whole crate of strawberries, some rhubarb, a whole tree of grapes, and an endless amount of carrots. After we cleared out the greenhouse of anything edible and ripe, Steve climbed back out the hole he made and we agreed we had enough to return home with.
Trying to be as quiet as possible we cleared both gardens and made it back into the street, then it happened. As we turned the corner, leaving the cul-de-sac and onto the main road, the zombie we saw earlier snapped out from behind the wall. Steve was in front and looking back at me to say something funny, I tried to warn him, it kind of happened in slow motion, well slow motion for me to act but fast forward for the zombie as he leaned forward towards Steve. As soon as he turned back, he was faced with a rotten face of death, Steve put his arm up in a defensive pose, and the zombie sunk his teeth into his arm. Steve let out a bloodcurdling scream of pain, despair and realisation that his life now had a short timer. Without a second heartbeat, Steve forced off the Zombie with every ounce of strengh, making him lose balance and fall on the floor. He dropped the bag and Swung the pole over his head repeatedly, while also shouting Bastard! you fucking Bastard." The undead fiend had no chance as his skull inverted with each strike. Blood pissing out of the cracks made from the force of the curtain pole. I tried to pull Steve away, but he pushed me aside to throw more and more hits. The final blow cracked open the zombies skull so far you could actually see its brain, beside the empty eye cavity, where Steve took out his left eye in one of his earlier strikes. I threw up all over the pavement, because the gore was far too much for me to take. Its weird, I can sit through any horror film with blood and guts spraying everywhere while happily eating a burger, but here and now, the sight of someones brain leak out onto the pavement made me regurgitate last weeks food. when I turned round, Steve was holding himself up on the pole he had dug into the pavement, he was hyperventilating and looking down at the bloody pool growing around this mashed up mincemeat mess that used to be a head. I rubbed my vomit stained mouth and looked up at him giving him the stare that could only be described as fear. He looked back at me and said "Don't look at me like that, we need to clean up the wound, if we are quick I will be okay."
Without warning he picked up the pace and marched towards the tower block as far as he could. I tried my best to keep my eye open to see if anymore undead were lurking around but saw nothing. Steve scaled the pole outside the building and onto the overhang as if he was Spiderman. I followed, but much slower due to my weight, and as I reached the window, Steve had already climbed 3 flights of stairs. It was like a race and he was determined to win, out of breath and out of energy I followed the hike up to the 12th floor where he was already inside using the last of the bath water to wash out the bite. I almost screamed out "what the hell are you doing? we have to drink that!" but I knew it was a waste of time because his life was more important. He used the metal scourer from the kitchen and was scraping layers of skin away from his arm as he desperately tried to clean the wound of any infection passed on from the zombie. It almost looked liked someone with OCD cleaning a draining board, he scrubbed so hard that he cut himself open even worse, washing it in the stale water, now turning red, scraping some more and rinsing again. I just stood there looking helpless, but told him that it was as clean as it could possible get. I knew that if the infection made it into the bloodstream it would pass around the body within 30 seconds and his violent scrubbing was in vain, however he had hope, which is something I could not take away from him. His arm was now seeping blood all over the floor, made even worse from the metal brush he used. He could see my look I gave him but stood defiant. "I am not going to turn into one of those, I cleaned the bite, I'm fine!" I think deep down he knew that wasn't true, but he was so scared that I was going to stab him when his back was turned that he wanted to do anything to prove he was okay. I humored him by saying that he should be fine and must have cleaned away any infection, if he sensed that I knew he was doomed, it would cause a final showdown. I didn't want to fight Steve and I didn't want him to think he was backed into a corner and I was going to finish him off when he least expected it, so I told him what he wanted to hear.
I knew that the infection slowly ate away at you to the point where you were unable to move through sickness so if he were to get to this stage, he wouldn't be able to do anything to defend himself anyway, so I felt safe enough to let him believe he was okay. At the moment he is in the kitchen sorting out the fruit from the vegetables, I pray he doesn't find this blog.

Day 89

Very hungry right now. The last of the edible food ended a few days ago and I have been living on expired crisps and stale water. One good thing is my cast iron stomach allows me to eat it with no problems, unfortunatly for Steve he has been hugging a bucket. I keep winding him up with a silly joke that keeps our morale up, whenever he throws up I shout out "bulimia, twice the taste, half the calories."  It catches him out everytime because he is laughing while blowing chunks and he finds it a huge effort keeping his regurgitations within the bucket and not spraying carrots all over his trousers. It is also entertaining when we have to empty the bucket, the smell is enough to make me puke because I just cannot deal with sick in any form, however we lean out the living room window, wait for a zombie to stroll under and empty the bucket. They stink like a dead rotting cat at the best of times, but added with Steves stomach lining really makes them a treat for the nose. It is a good thing they are so dumb, because they don't think to look up, and even if they did, we always quickly duck inside. If their nasal senses still work it must be hell to walk around with that odor. The humor quickly wears off, because we know that we have to go out and look for more food which always places us in danger, with Steve getting weaker from hunger and food poisoning it never seems like a good idea to go fighting our way through hordes of the dead. We decided that the best place to go to start with is over the fences of the houses in our street, and bag up the fruits and vegetables people have been growing in our pretty bad summer weather. It may not be bagged, but its still edible food which is good enough for us. If Steve is feeling a bit better in the next few days we plan on making it out on Sunday, this also depends on how badly our hunger punishes our will to wait. Hopefully we will be able to make a success out of it and not draw any attention to ourselves or get caught up in a horde. We have been keeping a close eye on the street and it has been very quiet, you get a few zombies wander by each hour, but not enough to cause a problem. In fact if we time it right and keep our eyes open, we may even be able to get out and back in without anyone seeing us at all.
The danger may be much lower than going to town, but we can't let ourselves fall into the false sense of security as this is when you get caught out. I will be taking my gun as an absolute last measure, Steve pulled down the shower curtain pole in the bathroom to use as a bat. Its not tough, but is enough to send a message to the skull if delivered hard enough. We just have to hope that everything goes smoothly, maybe later in the week we can keep our eyes out for some solar panels.

Day 82

The Internet has been patchy in our area again the last few days, I haven't had a good enough signal to post anything, country wide power shortages have caused problems with servers which seem to have been sorted out now. Steve thinks he knows of a way in which we could get power in the flat, he said there are some houses in Stevenage that have solar panels on the roofs. If we can somehow get them down and struggle to carry them home, they could be rigged to work in the flat. It would be much better than sitting in the dark at night time, or getting a very loud generator. Problem is, these panels are rather big and not easy to walk through the street with. Somehow it looks to be a goal of ours to improve our way of living. There isn't anything on TV because they are all down and showing the emergency broadcast, however DVD's and Xbox games are still there to be played. It would be great to just enjoy some of the older things we have been without over the last 2 months. This dream is sure to be a reality very soon because food is again starting to run dry, and we need something fresh to eat as cardboard crisps and gone off pot noodles are starting to make us ill.
Well I say us, more Steve, I have a cast iron stomach and very high immune system, so I don't get ill very often nor do I suffer from deli belly. That said we think it is going to be very hard to find anything edible at the moment, I suggested we look for gardens or allotments that have vegetables growing, I mean we have had a good summer with a lot of rain mixed in so I am certain that fruit and veg must be growing around somewhere. I realised this a few days ago, we have been too busy looking for the wood through the trees, why only look for packaged shop goods? When the naturally grown stuff is everywhere. Being on the 12th floor means we have a great birds eye view of all the houses in our block all with thriving gardens. After checking out a few with my pair of binoculars I clocked 2 gardens that had a  greenhouse and a vegetable patch.
I think its safe to say the owners are on a meat only diet at the moment so they won't need them anymore, hell we could knock up a great, tasty salad with all the trimmings, like home made coleslaw without the salad cream. We haven't seen any houses with solar panels which is a bit of a bummer, however we do live in the poorer part of Stevenage so I wouldn't expect to see something like that round here anyway. Maybe if we could hot wire one of the vans parked downstairs we may have a chance, also get to travel further out and bring more things back. Steve really needs to get out I think, maybe we could go off on our own just to get some personal space, providing we are careful and he doesn't have to come rescue me again. I think it will be good for the both of us.

I have noticed that the lack of maintenance has started taking its toll, the grass is really long and unkept, there are also a lot of weeds growing over the tarmac in the road and bushes are out of control. Soon its going to look like a jungle down there, it is weird seeing it like this, we are so used to seeing the council workers out on their ride on lawnmowers cutting the grass to keep it looking neat. I think the long grass actually helps, because the zombies have great difficulty walking through it, without falling over or getting tangled up in overgrown weeds. This also presents a problem to anyone trying to flee the zombies, so it is kind of a 2 way burden. Going to log off now, Steve has come in from the bedroom, looks like its time for some more manky crisps and warm flat coke.

Day 75

Steve and I have made up our little differences, I think losing all our normal day to day luxuries such as TV, Facebook and xbox has been getting to us, adapting has been hard, the stress of the world collapsing and losing all our loved ones has taken its toll. We sat down and spoke properly about everything, realised we were just being silly and fighting over things so trivial, it really wasn't worth giving away our position in a moment of anger. We have been really trying to take a step back before snapping and just thinking about the long term goal of survival. getting drunk on stale beer and Jack probably hasn't been helping the aggression problem either, I remember when I used to do door work, and the amount of times I used to see life long best friends kicking 9 shades of shit out of each other over some girl they wanted to chat up, only to be best friends again in the morning when the booze wore off. Alcohol can sometimes be just a big a problem than sitting there bored and sober.
What we need is a big bag of weed to have the mother of all smokes, I do not touch the stuff, yet in times like this who is there to tell us its wrong, illegal or bad for you? From what I hear it relaxes you, chills you right out and gives you the same feeling of being drunk without the aggression. Probably not good to have with my undiagnosed and treated mental condition though, I will probably wake up on the roof wearing Steve's skin or something and having no memory of what the hell happened. What doesn't make things better for us is the crisps we have been living on have started to turn and taste very much like cardboard. Going out to get fresher crisps isn't an option as they will all be getting to this stage as there is nobody around to produce and distribute fresh foods. In fact I don't think it will be long before we will have to start roaming the local fields with home made spears and hunting for rabbits and pigeons. I have to say, if we have to resort to that, then I couldn't think about going out naked except with one of those leathery flap type things you see in caveman documentaries to hide my bits. It would be rude not to, I can imagine the look on any possible survivors face when they see some fat modern caveman hobbling through the football pitch with a sharpened snooker cue trying to spear a pigeon, but what would I care? The world has gone to shit, you are expected to go a bit crazy to lighten the mood.
I probably wouldn't do that weird ritual where the smear the blood of the kill on your own face, that really is going a bit stone age, not to mention the smell will be a radar to every zombie in a 20 mile radius.

Looking out the window has been a common past time at the moment, it is strangely fascinating watching the dead go about their business, you kind of stop to wonder what they are thinking about, apart from food, what is it that drives them? They are lost in their own hell, with scraps of memory that keep them wandering around for some purpose. I saw one pushing a Tesco shopping trolley, it was empty, but still, there was something that made it decide to take hold of it for a walk down the street. When you think how many times in our lives we have held a shopping trolley, there must be some element of past memory that makes them remember what it is and what it does. Another zombie sat for hours sitting in an old ford escort, trying to drive it. From what I could see, it had the memory of a fish because every few minutes it would check to see if the key was in the ignition, then would make a half hearted attempt to look around for it, continue steering the wheel, stop and check the ignition again. This endless cycle went on forever, until something distracted him, probably a birds wings flapping out of a tree or something. It was enough for it to climb out and investigate the general area. So there is something there, even if it really is the most basic form of intelligence, probably that of a common primate, but nothing more that stands out. None have decided to pick up weapons or plan any form of strategic operation to hunt or look for living survivors. They really are pathetic and so easy to kill, its like they just want you to kill them, they have no form of self preservation or leadership hierarchy.

When you study them long enough you start to feel sorry for them, realise they aren't all that scary, they are vulnerable eating machines that only have an advantage when in bigger numbers. I probably shouldn't slag them off too much as I have nearly been caught out by 3 of them all on separate occasions so I guess that makes me just as stupid, well stupid or careless, something I need to sort out if I want to continue enjoying oxygen. It only takes one careless mistake to end it all and I have probably used all my luck, so next time I am out there, I have to be on my guard with no exceptions.

Day 68

Me and Steve are not talking at the moment, being cooped up together all this time has made it tough. For weeks I wanted company to stop the loneliness, however too much company can cause problems. He is sitting in the bedroom at the moment giving me the silent treatment, I don't think its going to turn into a full blown riot just yet because not only is that dangerous, but he knows that he is still a guest in my flat and if I tell him to leave then he's screwed. Not that it really makes a difference because he could just kill me in my sleep and take over the flat, after all there is no law and order anymore. Hey I could kill him too, or even use him as a distraction when trying to escape the infected on our next journey out. What am I thinking? I cannot believe I even considered that, have I really lost so much of my own humanity that I could resort to murder so easily? Saying that I battered my wife over the head with a torch so I must be capable of anything, but I couldn't possibly kill someone else over a trivial argument. In my defence Robyn was already dead when I stoved her head in, the woman I loved and her personality had been absorbed by the virus so it is so much different than actually killing someone alive.

I can't even remember what our argument was about if I am honest, I think being in each others face constantly for the last 2 weeks makes it difficult and the least little thing would set us off. I can remember that he was complaining that I ate the last bag of smokey bacon crisps, and he was saving them for himself. I didn't know this as he hadn't told me and it kind of escalated from there, I mean can you believe how petty that is? Just imagine the fallout if I slept with his girlfriend or something, hell would open up and devour the earth with the fury unleashed by the short tempers we are living under. I have to be honest though, we need to sort this out now before it gets out of hand and if things continue to get hostile between us then I will eventually have to ask him to leave. I know it sounds bad and I will be responsible for sending him out to his death, yet we will end up killing each other if we don't sort things out. I think if it came to me forcing him out I may have to keep a close hold of my gun in case he resisted, in fact until then I think it would be a good idea if I kept the gun hidden, last thing I need is him pulling it on me when my guard is down. It sounds barbaric and cruel but when all options have been exhausted then its the only choice I am left with. I don't want it to come to that, I am sure we can talk it out, I hope we can talk it out, its all down to him really.

Things have gone quiet next door, the zombie neighbor i used to hear moaning and scratching the wall, I think his body finally gave up to the decomposition cycle and rotted away, that or he finally worked out how to open his door and is now wandering the hallways of the flat. I do hope its not the latter, although I still don't have an exact idea on the zombie life expectancy after reanimation. It all comes down to temperature, time of the year and also the conditions they are living around. There is never a shortage of flies in the summer time even if it is a rainy one. The problem is as soon as one zombie finally gives up and collapses into a bony meaty heap on the floor, there is still hundreds and thousands of other freshly infected zombies wandering about to continue the spread. I have been trying to keep an eye outside and I have noticed a slightly higher number of infected wandering about, none are paying any attention to this block which is good for us. I just hope the lower levels are either dead or keeping quiet as it only takes one of those things to get suspicious and before you know it we have thousands of them trying to get in. So far luck has been on our side.

Day 64

The honeymoon period between myself and Steve has ended, 2 grown men living in close contact for over a week, with no women, no space and in a collapsed world ruled by the dead is enough to make anyone sick. Its not so easy to just ask him to leave or to get out of each others faces, we are surviving together to not only protect ourselves, but also to keep our own sanity, something I lost a while ago now. I had another one of my uninvited mental episodes yesterday that caused a bit of a problem, because I had kept it to myself, for obvious reasons that you don't tend to drop into conversation with a new friend that you occasionally get schizophrenic episodes that cause old memories take over your mind. To say the least, poor Steve was left confused and worried when I walked into the room, completely blanking him and talking to the empty side of the sofa where Robyn used to sit and had a full blown argument because she caught me smoking when I quit a few months ago.
Oh yeah I finally got told exactly what happens when a memory takes over and I have no sense of real time or reality itself. Steve said It was frightening how one minute I was fine and the next I am shouting at the sofa as if there really was someone there. The thing is I can remember that argument as if it was yesterday, I had given up smoking for like the 30th time and after a few weeks I couldn't stop myself from giving in to the cravings, so I went out and bought a box of 10 and smoked them when Robyn wasn't about. It was absolute bliss to have a cigarette when your body had been starved of nicotine, the patches helped a lot, yet when you come off them and are on your own, you still get the cravings, I also hear that they never go away. I was stressed out because we didn't have any money, I hadn't had a treat in a while so I thought a pack of cigarettes would make me feel better. The annoying thing was Robyn caught me on my very last cigarette in the pack, If I had got away with that one I would have got away with the lot, but we ended up getting into a big fight about it and I ended up recreating that fight in front of Steve. I had no recollection of him being in the room, it really was as if it was just me and Robyn and it felt so real. Steve told me how he was trying to get me to be quiet as my shouting was going to alert nearby zombies, he even tried to pull me over and was right in my face, yet I just saw through him and didn't even react to him in any sense or form. In the end he had to deal with me the only way he could and that was by laying me out with a powerful right hook. I can honestly tell you now that It was a very weird experience for me, because there I am shouting at Robyn, and suddenly this invisible punch came out of nowhere and put me on my back. It didn't knock me out, but as soon as I hit the floor, the whole incident was flushed away and I was back in the room with Steve. As soon as he realised that I was back so to speak, he reared up against the wall, put his arms out in a defensive manner and said,

"Dave, are you alright? can you hear me?"

After climbing to my feet and gripping my now aching jaw I looked at the empty sofa, then towards a petrified looking Steve and said

"Yeah, I'm okay. Did I just do something very strange? like talk to thin air or something?"

Steve put his hands down and nodded in agreement, to which I sat down and apologised, not before explaining to him what had been happening to me. I actually thought that by having company and keeping my brain engaged would prevent this from happening again. Steve did seem quite nervous afterwards and said that he was thinking of leaving, as he didn't feel safe being in here with me. How can I blame him? I have put him in harms way twice and now I just freaked him out with a crazy outburst that I failed to let him know about, I am probably more of a danger to him than him living outside in a tent. Things cooled off in the end though I managed to calm down and make Steve see sense, that he really was in safe hands up here with me and my memory intrusions really meant him no harm as I don't even acknowledge him being in the room and all I am doing is reliving previous memories that temporarily take over my mind. I don't think he is convinced, yet he seems to now believe I am no threat to him.

Aside from that my ankle feels much better now, no more aches and pains, I am probably not fit for any marathons, yet I can run if I needed to. Food has been lasting quite well, and it is nice to eat with company, I feel I have learnt a lot about Steve the last week. It is kind of hard not to really, when all we have is time to talk and nothing else. I think its safe to say we both have different personalities and clash on a few things, yet its hard for me to find someone on my wavelength because I do have a bit of a dark and warped sense of humor.
I laugh at things people tend to get upset or offended about, I can't help it, its been in my nature for as long as I can remember. For one I can never forget how I was never invited to an Air cadet Christmas meal after I spent most of the first one telling dead baby jokes and flicking mayo over the female cadets faces, claiming they looked like they just filmed a Bukkake porn video. Yeah, sometimes my sense of humor can go down like the Titanic, and over the years I have tried to moderate my brain to learn when to behave and also read people to see if they may appreciate or get offended with what I have to say. If only I had the chance to do that at school, maybe i wouldn't have been labelled the weird kid in the corner, who named the disabled kid "Hotrod." I also definitely should have put a stop to myself when I stabbed the schools child psychologist in the knee with a pencil because "that's what Sarah Conner did in Terminator 2." Sometimes I think maybe I always have been a bit mental, yet all this time I put it down to my sense of humor, it would really explain a few things.
On the other hand I like being different, why be normal like everyone else? Its better when you can laugh at everything and everything, even my own misfortunes, it just means I have a great sense of humor, although slightly dark and twisted it may be, I always let things cheer me up, even when I was down.

Day 61

It has now been 2 months since this whole thing started, strange thing is it seems like so much more. Time has really slowed to a halt when you have nothing to do except wait, its like it almost stands still. What makes it worse is the days are very hot at the moment, there is no way to escape the heat, nothing to help us cool down, except strip down to our underwear. This also poses a problem because we are getting dehydrated quicker which means we are drinking more, not very good when you are trying to ration everything. Steve and I had our first argument last night, being cramped up in these conditions with no entertainment didn't help, that coupled with losing all our loved ones and being thrown into the stone age with barbaric walking dead really puts the cherry on top. I can only put it down to the 'Big Brother Effect.' You know that old TV show where members of the public are all thrown together in a house under constant surveillance, after a while they all end up turning on each other and starting fights over the most trivial things. The only difference here is that there isn't anyone there to stop us and a simple argument can turn deadly, when there are no laws or consequences.
It was all okay though, I drank a bit too much of the Jack Daniels and Steve wanted to save some of it, I didn't hear him and finished it off. Some choice words were swapped between us, no raised voices for obvious reasons, and in the end we started laughing at each other simply because its hard to have a full blown argument while whispering. He was trying to do his shouting voice in a throaty whisper and it just cracked me up, I did the same back to him and he instantly saw the funny side and we just layed down got drunk and played eye spy.
The fun stopped after a while when Steve unexpectedly burst into tears, the booze probably didn't help as it can make people very emotional when they have something on their mind, I assumed it was to do with his parents or girlfriend, yet it was something else. I naturally asked him what was wrong and he started telling me about some family stranded outside his shop. A couple in their mid twenties and their child that looked about five years old. Steve went on to explain how they got cornered by zombies, early on in the outbreak, they had their suitcases with them, so they obviously had somewhere to go. He went on to explain how he was still scared and confused about what was going on, there was no TV in the shop so any news he could get was on the mobile phones in the store. Anyway, he was crying because he filed to do anything to help them, he felt responsible for their deaths as all he had to do was open the door and call them in, they could have made it.
I tried to tell him that by doing that, he would only have alerted the zombies to his position and he too would have been attacked if they managed to break in. Nothing I said to him would make him see sense, even to the point that he would have died too if he opened the shop door to help this family out. Steve had a lot to get off his chest so me butting in wasn't helping so I sat there as a friend and listened to his story, It was very hard not to get sucked in and upset by the story, as Steve had a great way of describing things almost to the point where you could almost visualise them in your head. From what he was saying, both the mother and father tried in vain to fight off the attacking zombies, only to get bitten and pinned to the ground. The woman only stopped screaming when a zombie ripped her throat out with his teeth, tearing her vocal cords in the process. The young boy witnessed the whole ordeal, something no child should ever have to see, Steve said he could clearly see the boy was petrified beyond any waking nightmare, and the boy turned towards Steves shop. It was then that Steve was convinced the boy looked directly into Steves eyes, put his hand out as if to ask for help, but before he could do anything else, was buried by a horde of incoming zombies who collapsed on top of him. The boy let out a muffled scream followed by silence. Soon after the only noise in the air was the sound of flesh being stripped from bones, teeth ripping through organs and the wet noise of blood splattering on the pavement. This horrifying incident has been burned into the back of Steve's mind, after finishing the story, he turned to me, wiped the tears from his face and said "that is the reason I came for you when I did, I wasn't going to sit by and let someone else die when I could help them out." I didn't say anything back, what could I say? I felt that I already owed him my life for rescuing me when he did, now i can understand why he came.
No more words were exchanged, he rolled his head back and drifted off to sleep. I went to the bedroom, stood by the open window to get a nice cool breeze, keeping my eyes out for anymore infected, then i realized that I couldn't hear the distant moans anymore, it was finally the first peaceful night I had heard in a long time.

Day 58

Its a good day today, I am back home in the flat with Steve, alive and un bitten. Waiting it out in the shop probably was the best plan of action, we would have got about 10 feet before getting chewed up if we left any earlier. The alarm at Wilkinson's finally died out in the end, whatever power source it was wired up to probably ran out of juice. It was a good thing, because hearing that noise constantly for like a week could drive you up the wall. I can only assume Wilkinson's is swarming with infected now, they probably still don't even know why they were drawn there in the first place, but it didn't take them long to spread out and make our escape easier.

Early on in the week I took this picture through the shops metal shutters, I was very careful not to get noticed, however they really weren't interested in this shop as we managed to get in here without being seen, it would have been a different story if one of those things saw us. It only ever takes one, the rest follow like sheep if they think there is fresh meat somewhere.

These pics here were the living conditions we had to put up with for a full week. Very tight, claustrophobic and musky smelling from us unable to wash and wearing the same clothes day in day out. In fact I'm surprised the zombies didn't smell us out, I think if we stayed there any longer, they probably would have done. We took our chance and left this morning, I could see our tower block as soon as we made it outside, It was only half a mile away, but seemed like a hundred with all the deadly obstacles in the way. The birds were still dying because the street were littered with bird corpses, knowing full well that it was the birds that brought this plague, we tried our best to keep away from them as much as possible, not easy when there are undead zombies only at arms reach in any direction. My leg was still in pain, only slightly, but enough to prevent me from gaining any real speed. It wasn't long before they noticed us, and all changed direction it was like a perfect synchronised movement among the dead. We could not turn back now even if we wanted to, it was make or break, I hadn't come this far to let them get me now. What didn't help was that not only did I have an injured leg, but I also had to carry half of our supplies while Steve carried the rest. I definitely had a lot more than last time, so it would be a much longer time before going out again. I made another mistake, while trying to avoid a dead bird I ran right into the reach of a zombie, the bastard grabbed onto my arm and tried to pull me down. For a weak dead and rotting corpse, he really had one hell of a tight grip, I could see the enthusiastic and excited look on his bloody face as he closed in to take a bite, foamy drool leaking out the corner of his mouth. I tried with every ounce of strength to push his head away from my body, he just would not let it go.
Steve was starting to make some ground and hadn't realised I had been grabbed, I doubt he would have came back for me a second time, I really needed to get my act together and stop putting myself in these dangerous positions. My limited balance was already compromised with my bad ankle and the zombie was pushing down on me, If I fell it would all be over. The stench seeping through his rotting pores was disgusting, not nearly as bad as the foul stink of his breath onto my face. With one hand I was pushing his head back, careful not to let my fingers get to close to his snapping blood coated teeth. The other hand was frantically reaching down to my pocket as i finally managed to get a grip on my pistol. I pulled it out, jammed the barrel into his mouth so far his lips nearly touched the trigger guard. I twisted it round so it pointed upwards, turned my head away then pulled the trigger. The air filled with a deafening crack that echoed throughout the town. I felt warm liquid spray onto the side of my face, immediately recognising it to be blood. Steve turned around urgently to see what was going on, I think he nearly shit himself as he wasn't expecting that to happen. A small red fountain appeared at the top of the zombies head, spurting out and splashing down over his face adding to the dried crusty blood already on him. His blurry grey pupils rolled back into the top of his head and he lifelessly collapsed like a rag doll. I didn't waste any time to catch up with Steve who had already turned around to continue running a crowd of zombies were already snapping right behind me, it didn't help that the gunshot had alerted everyone else in the area. I was starting to think I wasn't cut out for this, I was more of a danger to myself and anyone with me due to the mistakes I kept making.

We got to Stevenage Gardens which is right where my block of flats are based, see below pic...

... We had to make it around the pond and finally we would be home, at first it looked to be an easy task, then we bumped into these unfortunates.

It was all good until the girl in front clocked us and we had to move double time to not only outrun them, but to also get far enough that they don't see us get into the flats. By now I am in proper agony, the pain in my ankle came in heartbeat bursts every 2 seconds, getting away fast was starting to become less of an option for me. I didn't have a choice really, and I wasn't going to let Steve carry me back, if you can't make it on your own two feet then you get left behind, no point slowing everyone else down and tiring someone else out while they carry you, its not fair. So with that thought I pushed the pain into the back of my head and pushed forward. It felt like hours, but in no time at all, we arrived at the back entrance where we needed to climb up to the overhang where the window to get in was. Steve climbed up first, then leaned down, took my hand and helped pull me up. I wouldn't have made it without him, but soon enough, we were both up. I needed to rest, we had made it to safety, but I had 11 flights of stairs to climb with a seriously damaged ankle.
Steve let rip at me on the stairwell, "are you trying to get us both killed?" he said, i think if he had the chance he would have shouted it out, but kind of did it in an angry throaty whisper, it wasn't loud but you could tell he was not happy. I told him I was sorry, but I could tell it didn't make any difference, I was a liability, I thought that I was up to the challenge of walking amongst the undead, but truth be told I was a walking accident. While I sat there catching my breath I tried to wipe the blood and spongy brain matter from my face, it was a good thing I turned around when i fired, if that blood got in my mouth or eyes I could have caught the infection. Steve asked me if I had been bitten, naturally I told him I hadn't, at least I don't think I had. I checked myself over for my own personal satisfaction and I was bite free. After a few minutes I decided that it was time to get up and continue, I could rest as soon as I made it home, so a long, painful slow walk later we finally made it to the 10th floor. Steve had walked passed Robyn's body, holding his nose and being careful in case she came alive and grabbed him, however I explained who it was, to which he gave me a sorry look. He didn't need to say anything, I saw the same look of upset in his face as he lost so much more than me right in front of him. 2 flights later and we were on the 12th floor. I pulled out my keys, unlocked the front door, staggered down the corridor into the living room and collapsed on my arm chair. Steve followed while looking over the place, he sat on the sofa, laid his head back and closed his eyes. We didn't say anything for hours, we just sat there, reflected on our day and relaxed.

Day 54

Internet has been down the last few days, I'm surprised it kept up for this long, so someone must be keeping the servers alive, I heard that the Internet had to be kept live as it is now the only form of communication the world has with each other, not only that but its useful for the government to keep tabs on which areas still have life and pass on orders to what is left of the military defences, so I guess we are thankful that we still have one last luxury left in this destroyed world.

So what has happened? Well for one I am still alive, and I am still with Steve. We spent the night in the mobile phone shop and I finally got my hands on an IPhone 4. I have been wanting one of these babies forever, yet the bittersweet thing is the damn thing has no reception, the Fifi works, but I have no way of charging the damn thing, except for one of those battery powered emergency phone chargers. I woke up the day after being rescued by Steve, My hearing was still a little bit tetchy from that damned alarm in Wilkinson's, yet apart from a banging headache I could finally hear sound again. It was great to finally put a voice to Steve's face rather than communicating through notepad on the laptop. My first plan was getting out of the shop and back to my flat, my tower block is right next to town so I assumed it was the quickest place to get to, yet Steve told me we weren't going anywhere for a while. The shop alarm had pretty much drew in every single infected for a 10 mile radius and the town was now swarming with the bastards. Just looking out the shop window through the metal shutters all I could see was a river of shambling bodies. It was now apparent that we were not getting passed these without some sort of struggle. I should have just launched a flare into the sky saying "live meat, right here." The thing is, none of the zombies have any idea what to do when they reach the source of all the noise, they still wander around confused and dazed as before, but I think the alarm is such a distinct new sound that makes them curious, just shows how stupid they really have become.

So who is Steve and what is he like? For the past few days I have taken time to get to know him and share war stories, however mine are pretty lame compared to the shit he has had to go through. Steve is 21 years old still living at home with his parents and has a girlfriend, well all of the above up until a month ago. He came home from work the day the curfew was imposed to find his mum and dad in bed suffering high fever and couldn't get hold of his girlfriend via phone or facebook. He tried calling the doctor out to his parents, but got nothing more than an engaged tone. The first he knew that the world had turned to flesh eating zombies was when his parents came down the morning after and tried to eat him. He managed to get out of the house without a scratch but almost took a shot from the Army who were at that time alive and fighting. He screamed to them that he was okay, but they still fired at him and he managed to escape down an alley. He was greeted by his neighbors, some alive some zombies. At this point there was so much confusion in what was going on in the world, people were being attacked and torn apart in the street by their family, everyone else tried to ram as much as they could in their cars and tried to escape town. Some made it, some got destroyed by attack helicopters or Army barricades blocking the town exits. It didn't matter who you were, nobody was safe.
Steve decided that he wasn't going home, so he ran back to work, there was obviously nobody there, but he had nowhere else to go. Since then he has been scavenging and looting wherever possible, he even cleaned out the weatherspoons pub after me, but he obviously had more common sense not to burst into an alarmed shop like I did. One thing I was happy with is that he had an awesome supply of booze he couldn't drink himself, so we spent a few nights getting drunk and having our own private and very quiet little party. We both agreed that when the numbers outside lower, we will come back to my flat, as the backroom in a small phone shop is enough to send you insane after a while, not that I could talk what with my own mental episodes, which I have to say has been kept in check the last few days. It has been nice to again enjoy some of the simple things in life, even if its a bottle of month old southern comfort, makes you realise why you shouldn't give up. Morale was raised slightly the last few days, we got so drunk we didn't even care if the rest of the world has gone down the toilet or if no help was coming, we had everything we needed and life was good. 

Day 51

It got pretty hairy today, I had to go out again to get supplies because the pub snacks I have been living on have all gone. I didn't take my camcorder this time because the battery is dead, not to mention I was so distracted with getting everything on film last time that I missed the zombie that appeared right in front of me. I was lucky I had a gun on me, but unlucky in that firing off the gun alerted every walking corpse to my location. So how did it go I hear you ask, well it could have gone better, because I didn't make it back home, I am actually hiding out in the back of a mobile phone shop along with a survivor I met on my travels. Let me explain to you all how it all started.

I woke up as usual this morning, yet again with that familiar feeling of dread, knowing that I had to venture out into the world of the dead. I still haven't recovered properly from the last time I went out and that was over 3 weeks ago. The smell of rot and decay was overwhelming from up here, god knows how bad it is on ground level. I decided to make a face mask out of an old scarf to at least lower the chances of inhaling the indescribable stench of death. I packed some things I needed, like the pistol I recovered from the dead soldier, a knife and a first aid kit. I didn't ant to pack my bag too much with survival gear as I wouldn't be able to bring much back with me. So again I unlocked the front door, and was welcomed with a vacuum of clean air, that didn't smell of sweat and warm body smell. I took the same route down the stairs and completely forgot about Robyn, Well I forgot until her body appeared on the stairwell where I left her. The flies really had gone to town on her, the smell punched me in the face so hard that I nearly passed out. The air was filled with a thunderous buzzing sound from all the flies, there must have been thousands of them. After walking round her, I continued on my way to the 2nd floor where I knew I could get out and down the drainpipe by the overhang.
It was nice to touch down on the ground again, it was a really nice hot day, I was glad to wear a shirt, if you closed your eyes for a few seconds, everything felt perfect, keep them closed for too long and you will open them to a horde of infected feasting on your flesh. So the glory was short lived, I had things to do and didn't have time to waste enjoying the outdoors. Things were quiet, I only saw a couple of roamers in the distance, nothing immediate or threatening, after all these things are only dangerous in large numbers. I still hadn't worked out what their maximum view range was, but it seemed to be pretty close for them to recognise the difference between us and them. Providing I didn't stand out or make any fast moves I could almost blend in and walk passed them. This of course was only theory, and I didn't want to put it to the test, however from multiple news reports and my own personal experience, it all seemed to link up pretty accurately that 10 feet or further, rendered these things blind. I made it into town again, the place was exactly the same as before, the fires had gone out and the bomb crators had filled with rain water. There were a few stragglers, I walked around them quietly and slowly, my hand tightly gripping onto the gun. I was ready and waiting for any attack, my body had gone through a vigorous fitness regime, all undergone in my living room. If I stayed alive, it was because I had spent weeks preparing myself, I respected and feared my enemy.

I made it back to the weatherspoons pub that I stocked up on before, yet it was no good, someone visited after me and cleared out everything I couldn't carry. I didn't even bother trying to double check, whoever it was had help and lots of it, there was no point in wasting time trying to find scraps because there weren't going to be any. I was a bit disheartened and upset that i didn't carry more the first time, yet even if I carried 3 bags full of stuff, I would still need to come out at some point. I kicked myself into gear as I was exposed and didn't have time to mess about, so after turning around I noticed the Wilkinson Store looked untouched.
I realised it looked untouched for a reason and that was because it was. For most it was a furniture and gardening store, good for quilts, lampshades and the odd shovel, but what most people overlooked was that one isle sold snacks and drinks. The door was shut and locked, but the whole shop was just a long window, I could even walk along side the shop and see the snack isle and it was fully stocked. I then realised that if I was to get in there, I wouldn't be able to do it quietly, I didn't have a key so I had to break the glass. After checking the area to find it completely dead, I spent the next few minutes contemplating what I was going to do.
The plan was pretty simple, break the glass, then charge towards the snacks, pack as much of it into my bag as humanly possible, not being picky or selective, just grab, pack, and grab some more. If I was quick I could have a stocked up bag within 30 seconds and be out before I drew a crowd. So after checking again I decided it was now or never, so I drew the pistol, took aim at the glass and fired twice. I forgot just how loud that damn gun actually was, the 2nd shot made my ears ring, the glass frosted up and disintegrated onto the floor leaving a huge hole. What I didn't contemplate was the stores alarm system, It activated as soon as I entered and the ear piercing noise almost dropped me to the floor. The Alarm must have been working off of a battery or a separate emergency power system because all other power in the town was out. The noise was so painful to my already battered ears that running in a straight line was even a challenge, even so that I ended up running down the wrong isle. I ended up running down plant seeds and fertilizer to which panic sent me into a frenzy, running around like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. I didn't have time to think, it was pure animistic frustration. My brain was now aching from the high pitched screeching of the alarm. It must of been one of those new super sonic alarms that use such a high frequency that they actually cause intruders to flee in agony with a migraine only Lindsy Lohan would recognise.
In my frantic panic I managed to re find the correct isle collapsed in front of the crisps and drinks and begun to stuff as much of them in my bag as possible. I tried to take more of the fizzy drinks because liquid was more important than food. I managed to bag a good handful of warm Coke, Lilt and Cherry Tango. I also managed to get me some chocolate as much as I could pile in. Trying to avoid the crisps a bit because i had lived on those for weeks and to be honest was getting sick of them, I managed to bag about 4-6 packs anyway.
By now I could feel my hearing starting to go, this meant that by staying in here for much longer would mean permanent damage so I had to get out. So I charged for the open hole I made earlier to find that a horde of zombies had started closing in. God knows where these bastards came from, they must all have been laying dormant on the floor until I decided to wake them up with the biggest noise I could make. Somehow I managed to squeeze through the hole and get clear of the shop just as they began to close the gap they had made in their group attempt to surround me. My success was short lived, because as I turned to run, I tripped on some loose pavement that had been blown out from one of the bomb crators and it knocked my bad ankle I damaged earlier in the week. Not only did it knock me to the floor, but the pain caused was almost unbearable. I tried to get back onto my feet, but as soon as I put weight on my ankle it defied any attempt at running away. I was down, I was in pain and suffering from a leg injury that rendered me immobile.
All I could do was crawl on my hands and knees, trying by best not to let my foot touch the ground. Obviously in my panicked and desperate state I kept knocking the ground, only to be met with a dull scream. The horde were starting to close in on me, my cover had been blown and I had no real way of escaping them. I only had 12 rounds left in the pistol and there must have been about 20 of them. I could see more and more joining the group, all were drawn to the shop alarm system. I needed a miracle or at least a platoon of soldiers to turn up and shoot them all. My mind was racing, was I really going to die here? Would I have to feel every bite from the infected as they slowly tore me limb from limb? The thought was terrifying, I had lost control of my own fate, I was outnumbered and had no way of getting away fast enough. I looked up in front of me and I saw a figure of someone, it wasn't like the rest, he was running. The dead could barely walk so I soon realised that it was a survivor. His face was completely covered with a balaclava and wore a thick bomber jacket like the ones bouncers wear outside nightclubs. I could also see he was wearing thick gloves too.
He charged right at me, I think he called out something, but my hearing was a blur. The alarm system had completely knocked my hearing off, what with the ringing noise now taking over my head, the only other thing I could hear where rubles and echos. I can only imagine he said get up, but I shouted back that I had twisted my ankle and couldn't get up. He took both my arms and dragged me as fast as he could, my aching foot scrapped along the pavement making the pain even worse. Looking back at the horde of infected it seemed we were making ground on them. Infected had started to gather from all directions now so the danger wasn't only contained from one direction. He shouted something else in my face, again I couldn't make it out, but he pulled me up onto my feet, swung my arm over his shoulder and took my weight. We made a half attempted run for it, round the corner and into an old mobile phone shop. We were lucky in that none of the infected had seen us make it inside, my saviour pulled down the metal shutters and helped me out into the back office. Shut the main door to the shop and locked it. We were now in a backroom that doubled as a stock room, kitchen and a door that led to a toilet. There were also some stairs that led up to a possible office area. The only illumination in the room came from the candles and the light from the upstairs windows. I collapsed to the floor in pain, holding my ears, I burst into tears, again I had almost lost my life and somehow escaped death for a second time.
The guy who saved me took off his jacket that looked to be padded to prevent any bites breaking through to the skin, he then removed his balaclava and looked down at me. I stared back into his eyes, they showed the horror of someone who had fought in a bloody war and had aged 30 years. His black unkept beard hid his mouth, it looked almost as long as mine. We kind of locked into a time freeze, both of us took some deep breaths, and analyzed everything that just happened. I broke the moment by pointing to my ear and nodding a no expression to explain to him that I was deaf. He nodded back to me to show me he understood. It wasn't rocket science, after all, you could still hear the shop alarm from in here, well I didn't at first but a few hours later my hearing came back, the ringing continued and still hasn't stopped yet. At first we communicated via writing on paper, then, he decided to pull a notebook laptop off the shelf, fire it up and we spoke via the windows notepad. I am writing this from that very laptop, another one to add to my ever lasting collection.

I found out his name is Steve Samuels, he used to work in the shop for Mr Abdul who had passed on at the beginning. He too needed supplies and ended up getting cornered and decided to hide in the shop, he had the key for. He asked me if I had been bitten and requested to check me over for bites to which I showed him. We then spent a few hours talking about how we had survived this far and what we used to do before it all happened. The conversations took a long time to get through being as we had to type everything out. Before we knew it time had got on and it started to get dark. I looked at the clock on the wall and it was nearly 10pm. Steve said he was getting tired and suggested we got our head down, soon after he rolled up into the bed he had made on the floor. Since then I have been sitting here writing all this to you. My hearing is still off, I am going to get some sleep now, I hope that in the morning my ears show some signs of improvement. There is still a lot to talk about, but I need to rest. Steve seems to be a good person, I may even bring him back to my flat if he wants to come, after all I haven't spoken to anyone for over a month. I just hope Robyn doesn't have a problem with me bringing someone home.
  

Day 50

Sorry for the delay in posting over the past few days, I have been living off a Morphine high that has really made my life much better. My ankle feels a lot better now, I can put weight on it again which means I can go out on my 2nd supply run tomorrow. The battery on the spare laptop died so I am using the laptop I found in the pub. It was quite interesting having a browse through someone elses files, I don't think it counts as being bad because the owners were probably digested by a bunch of undead, not that it matters because there is nobody about to point their finger at me and tut. However, the owner of the laptop, Steve seems to have been a bit of a naughty boy, he had left a few messages on his computer that would indicate he was having an affair with one of the bar maids while his wife was clearly unaware. It was really strange reading messages written by somebody who was probably dead by now, along with everyone he is talking about. You could tell he had a lot more to talk about but the messages just stopped, I assume he either got sick or got munched by the infected, either way it was nice to read something other than my own blog. All I can say is, Steve, if you are alive and are somehow reading this, I have your laptop and I sure hope you stopped cheating on Marie.

I haven't had anymore visits from Robyn or any memory flashbacks trying to take over from what I can think of, I hope that it was just a temporary thing that has passed now. I am keeping my mind occupied on things to keep it busy and stimulated with things to prevent it from wandering off. The last thing I need is my brain going into lock down while I am outside looking for food. I really am hungry, its been about 3 days since I ate and the rumbling in my tummy is a constant reminder that food is at the top of my list of things to get. I would have gone earlier, yet my ankle being in pain from falling over meant that I could not risk going out. There is one thing I wish I could have and that is clean air, the smell I constantly have to endure is so overpowering.
Everything has shut down, there is nobody keeping the streets clean, so the smell of rotten bodies along with general waste piling up creates a horrible mix of putridness only words can describe. I also worry that the dirty conditions our streets are left in means more disease and rats carrying infection about the place. I have also noticed the grass outside has started to get overgrown, the bushes are untidy and its only a matter of time before weeds start growing over the unused roads. The wilderness is very slowly but surely growing over everything, but what can we do? there are no council workers to keep it under control, not that it matters because for once I can safely avoid paying my council tax without worrying about a warning letter coming through the door. Saying that, even with everything that's happened, the greedy council would probably still find a way to send out council tax warnings and demand money for rent. That would just be my luck, getting evicted from my flat in the middle of a zombie outbreak.

Speaking of zombies, they are still wandering about looking as dumb as usual. I saw one yesterday that had half its body missing. By the looks of it, someone took a shot at it with a 12 gauge shotgun at point blank range, because the left side of its chest was gone, no ribcage, no meaty bits, a nice clean curvy hole, the arm was missing too. All I could think of is how much that must really hurt if those things can feel pain. I did feel sorry for the poor soul, yet there is a chance I may be running into him tomorrow, if I do then I may have the decency to put him out of his misery. I got a gun, but will try not to use it if possible, I need to keep my noise to a minimum, I gave myself away the last time and I swear some of them followed me back here. I cannot afford for that to happen again.

Day 45

I woke up today with a sore throat, not sure how I got it as I haven't been around anyone to catch it. I certainly know that Its not the infection because I am not showing any of the obvious symptoms. With that in mind, being ill in a world where everyone is dead and turning into zombies doesn't make your day any better, especially when you believe you are suffering with a mental breakdown. To add insult to injury I was walking down my hall and I tripped and sprained my ankle, my right foot has been weakened by this so many times I have this problem where I walk along and sometimes I don't put my foot down properly and I end up putting all my weight on my ankle, so now I have a sore throat, a mental problem and a limp. I am definitely not in the right condition to go marching outside to find more supplies. There is some light at the end of the tunnel, because after finally finding our medical box, (Robyn was in charge of this and I never knew where she kept it.) I was lucky to find some Tramadol Hydrochloride which is basically morphine in tablet form, I popped a couple of those bad boys and oh my god, awesomness followed in that the pain was taken care of and It mellowed me right out. I couldn't decide whether or not it was like being drunk or being stone, but I didn't care because I liked it and it completely lifted my mood. All my worries and upset that had engulfed me over the last month had gone. So today I am just going to chill and enjoy the high while keeping my foot up and letting the morphine take care of me.

Day 41

I am tearing at my head these last few days, trying to quash the rogue memories trying to break out and take over, I am fighting to keep my sanity, fighting to stay alive. What makes it worse is I can't always tell the difference between the real world and my mind, I find that I am starting to argue with myself which is hard to explain unless you can feel and think the same things I am. Its like your mind says something to you that you don't agree with and your brain conflicts with it, you are in effect arguing with your own mind. An example of this happened this morning, my mind told me that I had to leave the flat and end it all in a blaze of glory while taking as many of those things out with me as possible, and my brain was like "shut up and don't be so stupid." Think of the relationship Tom Hanks had with his ball Wilson in the film Castaway, that is the only way I can really describe it.

While I am lucid I thought I would come on here and let you all know I am still alive and I hope most of you are too. I read a story from a group of survivors that had been roughing it out in some old warehouse, they had a young girl who they found out on her own. She was 7 years old and found at the side of the road clutching a bloodied kitchen knife and surrounded by dead infected. This small, innocent child had survived all on her own, after her parents got savaged by infected that broke into their home. This girl had fought her way out and stabbed attacking zombies in the head to kill them. What age is that to lose your family and get thrown into this world? The terrors she has seen is too much for any child to bear. She should be sitting at home playing with dolls or sleeping safely in her bed, yet she is out in the dark alone with thousands of hidden dangers, just waiting to strike at any moment.
The survivors who found her said that they had a lot of trouble trying to coax her into coming back with them to the warehouse. She showed no signs of a child, more like a barbaric animal wielding a knife that had taken many tortured souls in her path. In fact they were so worried about bringing her back that she could turn and attack them when they weren't looking. Even if there is an end to this disaster, that little girl will probably need endless psychological care for the rest of her life, because she has become a primitive animistic killer, probably not even old enough to know right from wrong, deeply disturbed by everything she has seen, and sees everyone as a threat. That said, they are trying to calm her down and let her know that she is safe now, the monsters won't get her and she doesn't need to be defensive. I can't help but think, this child's mind has been corrupted forever and the damage is irreversible.

In a way I wish that I had some company now, I always was a loner who enjoyed my own time to myself, yet you need to be careful what you wish for, the last month and a half I have had a bit too much of that and the lack of human company really has had a toll on me mentally and emotionally. When I go out to do a supply top up, I may keep my eyes out for any survivors, may even look for a new camera or batteries to replace mine as it is completely dead with no way of charging it. I may even catch up with those zombie rapists I saw the other week, If I did run into them I would probably blow each of their bollocks off and leave them to bleed out like the vile animals they are.
I may even run into a group of survivors that need shelter in my place. This time 3 weeks ago I would have completely threw out the idea, but now, I relish the thought of company, maybe even someone to keep me sorted when I end up having a passed memory invasion. Most of all I would love to see a damned army helicopter, ready to whisk me away to a safe desert island with nothing but sandy beaches, crystal clear water and beer on tap.

Day 39

Its been a few days since I posted so I thought I would pop on and keep you updated, I really think I'm starting to go insane, I read the end of my last post and seemed to be out of it completely. I said that I had to go because Robyn needed us to go shopping and I wanted some smoked salmon for dinner. I definitely know that was a past memory because the very last time we went shopping was when we bought salmon, and I even mentioned it in a blog post right at the beginning of the outbreak. This is really getting me concerned because if I have no control over these memory take overs then they can be very dangerous for me to live with on my own in this current world of the dead. What worries me the most is that when my mind goes off into one of these memory mind locks, I don't actually know what is happening to me in the real world. For instance in my memory I am making a cup of tea in the kitchen, but what am I really doing? I could be drinking bleach, making the bed while wearing underpants on my head, god knows what. The worst thing is that I have no way of treating myself or seeking help to get this sorted. Being left on my own with a questionable mental condition is very worrying, and the fact I have no self control really scares the hell out of me.
That said Robyn hasn't made any more visits other than the two the other day, so trying my best to keep my mind active and keeping my spirits up. The better stimulated my mind is, hopefully the less chance my brain decides to start messing with me and presenting things I don't need right now.

The supplies side of things is starting to get low, wish I saved that Jack Daniels, and the fizzy drinks have all gone. its back to blackcurrant cordial and month old bath water. We are running out of crisps and pork scratchings, but Robyn doesn't like pork scratchings so that is one little thing I get to enjoy without sharing. I may have to take a trip out soon, to get more stuff, I still have the gun I found on those dead soldiers so at least I will be better protected, I will check somewhere different the next time. The zombie activity outside has declined over the last few weeks, looks like everyone who got infected at the start of all this has started to rot so badly that they have wasted away. So I guess in a way, so long as any remaining survivors are smart, we can all just sit tight and wait it out and before we know it the first wave of zombies will eventually fade out killing the spread of the infection with it. The only way this thing will continue to live is if fresh people are infected each day, because the more people that get infected from this point on, means it will take longer for the rest of us to wait it out. I just hope that at this stage the only people who are left alive are those who are competent enough to stay alive and uninfected. You can't get this far without being smart and well defended. So with that little thought in my mind I guess you could say I finally have some hope that there could be an end to this.

Day 36

So what has happened over the weekend? Not much really, the same old boring routine, I don't even think we can call it survival anymore, its more just living in co existence with the infected. If I was living at ground level in a tent, setting up traps and armed with a commando knife and a pistol then yes I would say its survival. All I do is sit within the safety of my 12th floor flat in a securely barricaded tower block to which I am starting to think I am the only living soul of. I mean yes, each day is tough living in a shoe box with no power, no entertainment and a supply of limited pub food. Yeah I can see how that can be annoying after a while, time moves slower than eternity itself and being lonely doesn't help, but at least I'm not on ground level battling off hordes of infected with nothing but a canvas tent to protect me at night.

I am starting to worry about my own sanity a bit, I guess being alone too long with nothing to do can produce many psychological problems if left long term. It may be part of the grieving process or eating gone off peanuts, but this morning Robyn came into the living room, sat down and asked me to make her a cup of tea. The crazy thing was I didn't even register the fact that 3 weeks ago I buried a maglite into the back of her skull and dragged her body down a few flights of stairs, which I can actually smell through the front door now.

So yeah, It was a weird moment, a bit like in a dream where a dead loved one comes to visit you and at no point does your brain switch on and say "this person is actually dead." its a very weird thing to experience, yet you continue on as if nothing is wrong. So I went into the kitchen, made her a cup of tea, came back in to find that she was gone. What made it stranger was It finally clicked in my head that she never was there when I sat down again, and the cup of tea I just made for her was no longer in my hand. So I went in to check the kitchen and of course I didn't bring in a cup of tea, there was no power to turn on the kettle and her cup was still in the cupboard. So what the hell happened, its like I dreamed or hallucinated an entire 20 minute incident that never happened, but it all seemed so real. I hadn't fallen asleep and I haven't taken any drugs so it really felt like it must have happened.
After doing some research about trauma, and psychological conditions I think I found something that answered my question. If someone has been part of a traumatic incident, is subjected to long term isolation with no mental stimulation the brain starts to act out, and puts the person into a kind of standby or mental lock down, then replaces the current mental state with a previous memory or conscious dream. So in short I acted out a past memory I shared with Robyn some time and brought it into my current conscious state. She walked in to the living room as she normally would, and I didn't immediately freak out at her being dead, because in my memory she was still alive, and I also acted out to make her a cup of tea, because that's what I would do. It all started to come together when the memory came to its end and reality took over, leaving me back where I started and confused about what just happened. I sure do hope I don't get many more of these because not only do they confuse the hell out of you, but they really are a sure bet that my sanity is starting to slip. Well its good that I have found the answer to this, so I think now I am more aware that passed memories are trying to enter my current mental consciousness. I can keep on top of it and say "wait a minute, this isn't real, its just a memory." Then I can keep control of my mind, realise I had a mental lapse and prevent myself from getting worse.

I am going to try and limit how many blogs I write on here, if not to spare laptop power, but its hard trying to bring up things to talk about when I am all on my own living with nothing to do. So do not be surprised if I only post once every two days or once a week. Naturally if something big happens I will be right on here to tell you all about it. Right I have to go now, Robyn needs us to go and make some dinner so hopefully I will be on soon to update you with some news, we have to go shopping today so hopefully we can pick up some smoked Salmon.

Day 34

I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night, the fear of a nuclear blast in the face at any moment just cannot ever put you at ease. I keep telling myself that our government wouldn't do such a desperate thing, yet I keep having to face facts that we aren't living in the same world we were last month. The human race prides itself on being the dominant species on this planet, how we have evolved so well that our intelligence has surpassed that of any other animal in the world. We have sophisticated language and understanding of each other, knowledge of construction, education and many other things that separate us from the other creatures we share our lives with, yet with all our advanced intelligence, weapons and advancement in evolution, all it took was a natural microscopic viral cell to turn our world upside down. We had everything possible to win a war or educate the world, yet we could do nothing to prevent this plague. I am not a religious man, I have always been a man of science, as it can always answer my questions with proof, and backed up logic. No matter how much I always see this as an incident of mutated evolution in a viral bird flu, there is a nagging in the back of my head that keeps on itching the very core of my brain... "what if this is gods way of punishing us for how we treat the world and each other? What if this is his way to cleanse the world of sin, only the deserving get to survive and start a clean slate?" It would certainly make sense in the church and I can imagine them spewing that out to all the believers out there, I believe this would give the all the ammo they needed to convert what was left of the survivors to turn to god.

True it keeps coming up in the back of my head, but I do think of the bigger picture, I mean why does the devil not get the blame for all this? I mean god is supposed to be the most lovable caring being ever, yet he has claimed more lives in his name than Satan ever has, I guess you could say I think I know who the better person is. No, This is nothing to do with religion, it is exactly what is says on the tin and that is viral evolution. It was always due at any time and we always expected some new virus to knock us on our asses with no time to find a cure or vaccine. That said, whether you believe it to be the wrath of god or just science pushing forward, I think we need a good plague to sort us all out. We have all become too reliant on our material things, money, luxuries and we have all lost the basic values of humanity. The kids don't even go out and meet up anymore, they are all glued to facebook or their Iphone, with no respect for anyone or anything. The grown ups moan and whinge about how bad their lives are and how we all expect perfect service from everything, and act like spoilt children when we can't get our own way, then we have the elderly... Well, they just moan about being alive and how the world isn't like it used to be.

So I hope everyone is looking forward to this fresh start we are being awarded with, hey, the way things are going and I do somehow make it to the end of this, I may actually own this country. I mean at first I was devastated about how the world has gone to shit, I was upset that I lost all my friends and family, but It has taken me losing everything to put everything in perspective and I can see so clearly now. I have nobody telling me what to do, I answer to nobody, I have no rules or laws holding me back, the world is mine to take. I may not have any official or recognised title, but as long as their is air in my lungs and the freedom to walk, I own everything I touch. Anyone else alive in the world does too,  and getting territorial about who owns what, just shows how like primitive animals we are. The only difference is I got a big fucking gun and the world is yours, providing you stay out of my way.

Day 33

OK, I am getting a little bit concerned at the moment. Now we all knew back at the start of this outbreak when we still had an almost stable and working country that the virus had gone global, I remember seeing it on the TV, back when news channels were still on air. What I didn't know was all the politics still going on over the weeks while we are all left in the dark hiding in our homes. So yes, although we haven't seen them doing anything or actually doing more to help us, there is still a working government worldwide. The problem is that none of them have any promising ways of sorting this situation out effectively. The same thing has happened all over like clock work and no country has a sustainable military organization able to destroy the threat properly. But what every country does have is a lot of ICBM's and not only does most countries have ICBM's, some of them have actually launched them. I am not joking, I just looked on the Emergency CNN website and Israel have launched three of them over several parts of Palestine, wiping half of it off the map. It can be argued that they have been waiting for decades to do something like this due to the never ending political unrest between both nations. Now with nobody to stop them, they pressed the big red button. They can argue to the end of the earth that it was purely to control the zombie population, but everyone knows it was a dirty sucker punch while nobody was looking.

North Korea decided to copy the idea and South Korea is now a highly radioactive beach due to being hammered so hard that it has been sent to the bottom of the ocean. America are in serious talks on whether or not to deploy nuclear weapons on some of the larger cities in order to destroy a large part of the zombie population, yet are being forced by a majority vote to stand down. I mean America using nuclear weapons on its own country is unthinkable, but begs the question and that is, what are the political goons in Whitehall, London planning? The world has crossed a line when it decides to launch Nuclear warheads in a non war scenario, I don't know or trust our government at the best of times, how can I sit here and even comprehend what they are planning when the whole world has gone down the toilet? Stevenage isn't classed as a large city, Its big, don't get me wrong and you will find more than a few hundred thousand infected wandering about, but London is only 20 miles down the road, and if by any chance a nuclear weapon were to detonate in central London, then are we still going to get hit by the blast wave? will we end up getting covered in radioactive dust, blown over by the wind direction? That's a fate worse than death, if you are not in the immediate vicinity of a nuclear blast and get sizzled in a second, you then suffer the effects of radiation poisoning and die a slow painful death over a year, with cancer and a whole lot of other nasties. It sends a chill down your spine, I just hope, I pray that the Cabinet in Downing street or wherever they are hiding, plan to just sit on their asses like they usually do and blame the infection and everything else all on the previous Government and do nothing to sort the problem out.

Day 32

I cannot believe its been a whole month since this whole thing kicked off, time couldn't have gone slower if it tried. I gotta be careful as my supplies are starting to get low, which an only mean unless any rescue is inbound within the next few days, then I have to go back out again. In fact I am not all that scared of going out anymore because I know what awaits me. Not that it makes my task any easier, I guess you can say i have become content with my situation, if I get attacked or bitten I don't even care anymore, I mean why would I care? I have lost everything that means anything to me, there is nothing left for me to live for. Even if by some chance I get whisked away by the military via helicopter while they fire duel machine guns, where the hell are they going to take me and how much better is my life going to get? I would only get dropped off at an over populated evacuation point and subject myself to at least 6 months of gruelling quarantine, conditions, sharing a chemical toilet with 600 other homeless people living the same nightmare as myself.

The next door neighbor is up to his old tricks of scratching up against the wall, he is really starting to get on my nerves, I know that sometime soon I am going to have to sort him out for good, if not to put the poor sod out his misery, but because my own sanity is suffering as a result. Do you even know how off putting it is sleeping in the room next to someone that is foaming at the mouth, and crying for your flesh, yet any time he may or may not work out what the door knob is for? It can be hard to sleep, I accept the fact i could get pulled down by a horde of zombies while I try to shoot as many of them as possible until they over power me, but the thought of waking up in the middle of the night to find a corpse chewing on your leg in complete darkness, that is really going to be a frightening experience.

I am  halfway through my 2nd laptops battery life so I better end today's blog and wish everyone well and hope you are keeping safe. Remember to lock your doors and keep noise down to a minimum.