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.
Wednesday 31 August 2011
Wednesday 24 August 2011
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.
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.
Monday 15 August 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday 10 August 2011
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.
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.
Saturday 6 August 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday 3 August 2011
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.
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.
Monday 1 August 2011
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.
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.
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