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.