So Young, So Beautiful.... 1/4

Troy Baltthius , age 32, financial advisor, divorce', homeowner with only 25 years left on my mortgage, owner and manager of a fantasy football team, father of 1, survivor.......

This isn't your typical undead survivor story, I'm no hero, not even a survivalist, I can honestly say that I lack the survival skills of your modern day girl scout, too nervous and shy to simply ring a strangers doorbell. But, there's something that keeps me alive, keeps me fighting, and that's knowing that my little girl is alive and waiting for me. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get to her and keep her safe. However, after my wife decided to leave me and take custody of Elora (that's my daughters name), I was forced to move from our quiet town in New Jersey to an overpopulated area in the Bronx, I know this is gonna be a hell of a task.

I'll never forget my first encounter with the "undead." It was only an hour or so after the first televised warning that something was spreading, and spreading fast. They were not quite sure who was the first infected, or how they were infected, but one thing was for sure, we were to get as far away as possible from the infected because they became incredibly hostile and a bite could easily infect us, and these things were hungry.
I was on the phone with my daughter telling her to stay calm and that Daddy was coming for her. You see, she was all alone because her mother was rushed to the nearest hospital with her new boyfriend after she claimed that she was bitten by the crazy old man two houses down. And the babysitter quickly fled the scene, knowing about this epidemic, I mean would you stay for 5 bucks an hour and risk your life for someone else's kid?
Anyway, I had just finished telling Elora to quickly run out to the shed that I paid to have built a few years back, that doubles as a bomb shelter (anything to protect my baby girl), when a neighbor's car ran right through my living room, ripping the phone wire right out of the wall and forcing me to drop to the floor in fear.
When I came back to my feet, I quickly ran to the driver side of the car to see if she was OK, no pulse. There was nothing I could do for her so I went in search of my cell, which was lying on the couch that her car so conveniently happened to be resting on.

Couldn't find the goddamn cell under all the chunks of my living room wall when I noticed that something was missing, the woman in the driver seat. Uh no, I didn't go looking for her, I'm not an idiot, I've seen way too many horror movies where the curious ones get butchered, no thank you. Instead, I ran for the nearest exit, which was not the obvious gaping hole in the side of my house, the front door seemed more civilized. "Oh, there she is" I said to myself, while she stood there between me and my exit. She didn't look much different from her former, living self, she was in the earliest stage of the infection. Her motor skills appeared to be off and her head rested on her shoulder because of the broken neck she received from her recent accident. She didn't look too happy to see me, trust me, I wasn't too happy to see her either. She had this incredibly lifeless look in her eyes like the motor was running but nobody was behind the wheel.
With her hands reaching out for me, she lunged in my direction for a taste, that hole in my living room was looking pretty good right about now. I reached for the nearest melee that I could grab, which happened to be a desk lamp in my main hallway, and swung for the fences. The lamp connected with her head and knocked her straight to the floor. I ran right to my Nissan Altima through the newly created exit in my living room, got into the car and drove as far as I could without getting caught in a traffic jam of others trying to escape. I got about 2 blocks....

That was about 6 days ago, and since then, I've been forced to travel on foot, slowly making my Way to the G.W Bridge, just another step closer to my little girl, I hope she's safe, I hope she can be strong..

I LoOoOOoOOve My Neighbors :P

It is raining today, and these days STILL suck, even during this zombie shit. Hence I’m cooling out, looking out my window. Miss Awesome should take a crack at looking for me today, shit I’m the mothafukn chosen one anyways. Chase me for once J.

When this zombie epidemic hit, I did not leave my neighborhood. Grew up here so I figured I had my best chance to survive here. Plus no GPS? FuUuUuck THAT! I’d get lost after going three blocks away from my house. And there was a lot of pretty girls in my neighborhood when things were normal, so I figured that I’d start the salvation plan here J. Apparently the zombies had the same idea since everyone stayed-all of the neighbors I never spoke to, drug dealers, girls I liked, girls I would have given it to but would never get into a relationship with, girls I would have given it to if no one ever ever EVER found out (fuck you don’t judge me J), girls I had no chance with for whatever reason (every reason being their fault, they should have had better taste J) . Bet they would have killed themselves, if they weren’t already dead, if they knew Daddy was the future prophet and savior of the world. Ladies, you Fucked Up J.) I have had the fortune of not bumping into any family members, my little brothers and mom are gangsters just like me. They must have escaped to DR or something…. I know they did.

Ahem, something that hasn’t changed in me is how super mature I am though-I still hold grudges, fuck that :P. Lets point out some of my zombie neighbors:

Zombie Walking by # 1- Police Officer: Same one that gave me so many tickets, glad they ate your hands.

Zombie Walking by # 2- Drug Dealing Blood Gang Member Named 7:50 (note, I have no idea why in the fuck he got that name, did he kill someone at 7:50? Born at 7:50? Was it a.m. or p.m. ? I have no idea): Chilling with the Rupal looking zombie, both of them standing with that HeEeY, finger snap snap stance. Always had suspicions about 7:50, he stared at guys to much. They were fooled into thinking it was a gangsta grill, little did they or I know that it was more of a jailbird, lets be soul mates gangsta look.

Zombie Walking by # 3- My Closest Female Friend, Not Girlfried, That’s Right Female Friend: I know what ya are thinking and you are totally right: “How can anyone resist you Jay MF Ruez?” To be quite frank I have no idea, some women are just blasphemous and crazy I guess. I’m glad that bitch got eaten too (Immature for a reason, keep reading J). First off she was so awesomely epic, Miss Awesome would hate on her, BEAUTIFUL chick. Dare I say that she could have kept the chosen one, and I would not have even spread these genes, fuck the world let it rot, because I would have had my princess and it would have been all that mattered and I would have killed every zombie in the world for this chick. I tell you. Why weren't we together you might ask? The Friend Zone…. Who invented that Mothefucka? Who was the asshole that has forever doomed us men to be locked into this escape proof, non-sex getting prison that keeps us away from women that we tend to be madly in love with but see us as a “brother”, as if we volunteered for that shit (we got drafted into that mothafukn position). HOPE I BUMP IN TO THAT ZOMBIE, because on behalf of all the men in history I would fuck his shit up. Immature I know, I know. But fuck you don’t judge me.

Zombie Walking by # 4- Neighborhood Ugly Chick: It’s crazy how she preserved her appearance better than any other zombie chicks in the neighborhood, ironic how in this world she’s the pretty one. She got that Ronald McDonald smile thing going, laughing at the other zombie chicks “Ooo you ain’t got a leg girl? It’s alright, go to the gym and you’ll look prettier, log onto zombieharmony.com or something, maybe they can find you someone” You go girl, be conceited (she was not on my world salvation list so becoming a zombie might have been the best thing to happen to her).

Zombie Walking by # 5- My Neighbor’s Bad Ass Son: Fuck what mature people say, there are some kids in this world that are just bad. And this little fuck was the KING of the little bad demons of the world. Fuck around and he was the one that started this whole zombie shit, bad ass kid. Wish I could throw a rock at him but I don’t feel like running after being noticed. AND it’s raining so I don’t feel like fucking up my Gucci slippers (fuck you don’t judge me, they are comfortable.)

And last but not least Zombie Walking by # 6- A So Called Friend of Mine: Glad they ate the shit out of him. Why the animosity you ask? Because during life although he did not have the zombie disease, he had the bitch ass hater fake friend disease. He had the “Yea I know I don’t have a chance with this girl but let me cock block you so that you can’t bag either even though she is clearly feeling you and not me” disease. He had the “yea I’m not going to text my friend that could super hook you up with that girl you were feeling from the party” disease. He had that “let me go up to the girl you just hooked up with and outwardly ask her if she really hooked up with you and purposely make shit awkward for us” disease. He had the telling the girl behind my back "Nah girl, don’t mess with him, he don’t wifem he one nights’em” disease. And just like the zombie disease, the hater one had no known cure either.

I can keep going on and on about my neighbors, but I guess I’ll save that for another rainy day. I LoOoOOoOOve My Neighbors J

Love,

Jay MF Ruez

Edited by Quin the Hunter

Meet Sam

I'm not here to tell you an entertaining story and keep you thrilled at each turn. I'm here to tell you how I survived so you can do the same. New York had gone to hell and I hadn't seen or heard from a family member or a friend since. I'd been on the move tearing through the Bronx non-stop trying to stay alive. Most houses were empty so I usually had a place to crash for a night or two. Occasionally you bump into an occupied residence and have to convince people you weren't going to hurt them. Sometimes you had to leave the houses because if the zombies didn't kill you then the people in the house would. It might seem cruel thrusting a drifter out into a zombie infested city, but I can't blame anyone for doing what they needed to survive. After all, I was doing the same thing.

I bumped into Sam in a house just outside the Pelham Bay area of the Bronx. The house was a nice cozy two-story not too far from the park. I liked two story houses because they provided good places to hide. They offered you different ways to get in and out of the house if you knew how to utilize the second floor properly. Sam seemed like a pretty decent guy who wouldn’t try anything funny with me like stealing my weapons or anything. He was nice enough to let me stay in for a few nights. He figured the company was worth the risk and besides he saw how well prepared I was and figured I'd be more help than harm. He was in his mid 40's and in decent shape; aside from this hacking cough he had he didn't seem to have any issues. He had a good amount of food stock piled, more than enough for the two of us, and he didn't mind sharing. He had the house boarded up pretty tight as well. The only way I managed to get in was through the attic window. He said he had honestly forgotten about the window in the attic and I offered to take care of it for him. We weren’t too worried though, we figured the zombies weren’t really coordinated enough to think about climbing up onto a roof and checking for windows. All in all, it turned out to be a decent place to crash. I'd be a fool to turn it down. Then again, only a fool wouldn't think twice about that cough.

Three days straight and Sam was getting worse. He swore he hadn't been bitten or scratched and my gullible ass didn't think to check him. I told him to just go lie down and rest for a bit while I got some food together. I was preparing our lunch and I went into the pantry to grab some beans off the shelf. I heard a chair get knocked over in the kitchen behind me. I turn around and lucky me; I see Sam standing in the doorway of the pantry practically foaming at the mouth. Bastard was bitten and now here he's got me trapped in a damn pantry! I’m standing in this room little bigger than a closet with nothing but canned goods surrounding me and, oh yeah, a zombie blocking my only exit! Of course I didn’t think that my hunting knife or any of my other weapons were necessary to make lunch, so they were all stashed neatly away in my bag in the living room. Too bad I had this infected bastard standing between me and my stash of zombie killing toys. Well I'll be damned if after all this I'm going to get killed and eaten with a can of peas on my side. He lunges at me; man these things sure are fast. I pelt him in the face with the can of beans. It hits him square on the bridge of his nose and I can hear the bone crack. Too bad he's too dead to know how much that should have hurt, because he stumbled back one measly step and regained his composure. Thankfully that one step was all I needed. Sam was big but I was bigger; more importantly I was determined to live. I charged at him and tackled him straight through the kitchen table. In hindsight it wasn't the smartest idea to essentially embrace a zombie whose very bite or scratch could end my whole existence. The only problem with hindsight is you never have it when you need it. It's only around after you've done something stupid. The table shatters under our weight, and I see the back of his head slam down against the floor. I knew he was stunned and this was going to be my only opportunity. Before he could move, I grab a broken table leg and jam it through his skull. I turn my head at the last second to avoid getting any blood in my mouth or eyes. Sam was a goner, and I wasn't. In the end that was all that mattered. I stocked up on some food, rinsed myself off while I still had access to running water and I left that house and the experience behind me. Sorry Sam, guess you weren't hungry enough.

Another Day...

‘Please, don’t take it, it’s as good as killing me!’ She whimpered. I ignored her, stuffing what little untainted supplies she possessed in to my bag. She grabbed my bag, ‘Please! Have mercy! I…. I….. I can fuck you if you don’t take it.’ I turned to her, ‘Bitch if I wanted to fuck I would take that too. Now shut the fuck up and get out of my way, your pathetic mewling is trying my patience.’ She backed into a corner, sobbing and holding her face with her hands. People like her disgust me, not willing to defend or secure what they need with blood or their lives, no wonder the world is FUBAR right now.

After exiting the apartment complex, I started on the way back to my safe house. Pickings were fucking slim today, each day I range a little farther looking for shit, and each day I find less and less. Running so dangerously low on ammo it’s fucking ridiculous and I’ve resorted to cleaning my weapons with WD-40. Stealth is my best weapon now, best to just skirt around the less attentive ones. However the more alert “patrollers” are becoming a serious annoyance, I don’t know if it’s just me or if they really are getting smarter. Three days ago two of them nearly chased me right into the jaws of another one. I might’ve been imagining it, but I could’ve sworn they were communicating somehow. If it wasn’t for that bumbling fool who drew them away I would definitely be fucked. Maybe he wanted a friend and was trying to save me so we could survive together. He succeeded in saving me, saving himself however….. probably not.

“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.” Charles Darwin is often attributed as saying that, and even though he didn’t, that doesn’t make it any less correct. Even before the world went and got fucked, I had this philosophy. There is one constant in the universe: conflict. The weak die, the ones that can adapt, live. As for the other survivors., many of them would die. I knew that I was sacrificing them for my own ends, but that’s the way the world works. It was a cruel place, and that meant that, sometimes, I had to be crueler.