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.