Saturday, March 19, 2011

It's Been A Long Day

Cray and I looked down the long corridor. After everything that had taken place in the last 24hours, a dark corridor was the last place we wanted to walk down. However, since it was Edie's apartment building, the hesistancy seemed to fade rather quickly. Then, as I thought about what we had just been through, my anxiety rose a little. I'm sure Cray had the same feelings as she looked at me, as if to say 'I'm waiting for you to walk first.' I took a breath and slowly started down the hall. I clutched the key Edie had given me, as I carefully listened for any sound other than our footfalls and breathing.
Finally, we made it to the end of the hall where her apartment was. I quickly inserted the key and entered, Cray right on my heels. We closed the door and as the last lock clicked into place, we finally felt safe.
The place looked as if no one had lived there for a while. Everything was perfectly untouched, serene in this quiet little loft. Cray and I were almost afraid of putting our things down because it seemed we might disturb the peace.
Cray dropped her bags and heaved a sigh of release. "Well that was an interesting day, let's get to work". We proceeded to dump our bags in her living room and head to her home office. She had given us instructions to look up and contact some people in her circle of peers, as well as grab some files she said were key to "what would happen next". Cray and I didn't question the "what would happen next." I honestly could say I didn't want to know, but I trusted Edie. If she gave us these instructions then what was coming was good, right? Just as the question popped into my brain, my cell went off. It was Edie. "Hey! We made it in... whoa, slow down... uhuh, uhuh..." Cray looked at me quizzically and mouthed 'what's wrong'. Guess my face shared the uneasy feeling that was building in my gut with every word Edie uttered. I hung up the phone and looked at her. "Change of plans. We need to grab everything you think is valuable, all the information she had wanted initially, and then we have to..." I had to pause, cause what I was about to say was ludicrous. "Have to what?" "We, umm, she said we had to burn this place down". Again, Cray shot me a very quizzical look, then simply said, "well where does she keep her matches, cause this place is huge!" On that note, we got to work.

Monday, March 14, 2011

I'm Bored 1/2

The world had officially fallen apart. I was completely alone, it had been…well I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I lost Stephanie, there were zombies everywhere and I was living off of canned food and Twinkies. In all this mess, there was only one thought running through my mind. I’M BORED! I don’t know what had gotten into me. Maybe it was being cooped up in this attic all day, or not having anyone to talk to, or being stuck with only horrible thoughts running through my mind and not having anything else to fill the gap, but damn it I was bored as all hell! At least Tom Hanks had a volleyball to talk to when he got stuck on that island, lucky bastard. I don’t know what got into me, but I told myself I was going do something to make myself smile even if it was the last thing I did. It wasn’t the last thing I ever did, but it sure as hell put a smile on my face. And that’s the part that scared me.

Earlier memories of when all this crap was still hitting the fan are all jumbled together. I only really remembered certain events. Traumatic things that in one way or another led me to where I am now, and for the most part, kept me alive. I remember one event specifically, because I couldn’t figure it out. I saw a man running out of his house covered in blood. Now I don’t know if he had been bitten himself, but I know for sure he was covered in blood, whoever’s blood it happened to be. Anyway, I remember him being out in the street and just standing there looking around. He was out in plain sight in the middle of the day with a good number of zombies around, and not a single one even paid him any mind. They either walked right by him or didn’t even think twice about touching him. The only conclusion I could come to was the blood on his clothes was making him smell dead. I know it sounds weird, but these things all have a distinct smell. They all smell, for lack of a better word, dead. I don’t know how to describe it but it’s just sort of a rotting, fleshy kind of dead smell. Whatever the hell you want to call it, these things smell. That man smelled like one of them and they left him alone. That gave me an idea.

Boredom often leads to stupid things, but let’s face it I’m not the smartest guy in town anyway. First I was already going to break one of my main rules and travel at night. You’d think my first encounter being chased at night would have taught me better, but at this point I didn’t care. Either zombies were going to kill me out there, or my mind was going to kill me up in that attic. Either way I was screwed, so I figured what the hell I’m going out at night. I unlocked the front door to my safe-house as quietly as I could and I made my way very cautiously away from it. I had my bat with me, of course, and my hunting knife. It was time to go to work.

I only made it about two blocks before I spotted exactly what I wanted; one zombie, just listlessly drifting through the streets. He was a pretty big guy too, or he used to be before he got half eaten. I could tell he was missing his left arm by the way his jacket was flapping down on his left side. Whoever took him down must have taken him by surprise, and I assure you tonight wasn’t going to be any different. I was crouched behind a car and I spotted a small rock by my foot and picked it up. I threw it straight at the left side of his head and plunked him nice and hard. He stumbled one tiny step and then began to turn to his left to see what the source of that rock throw was. Exactly the way I planned it. I snuck around behind him as he was turning and with one quick plunge I buried my hunting knife into the back of his neck, right on the spine. He dropped to his knees but I could tell he wasn’t finished. Without a seconds hesitation I jammed the knife right through the top of his head, and that seemed to do the trick. I really was glad he was so much bigger than me, because it made the next part so much easier. I took off his blood soaked jacket and his torn up pants and slid them on over my own clothes. The smell was unbearable and I definitely threw up right out in the street, but I’ve had enough drunken street vomiting nights to let this slide easily. Now that I had his ridiculously over-sized clothes on, I was ready to have some fun. Time to go hunting!