Thursday, June 30, 2011

Killing Zombies

We're kind of at odds about what to do with this watcher. Matt wants to bust a cap in its ass (well, head, but you get the idea). We're all a little worried about the noise (as I mentioned) and what it might bring down on us. The problem we're facing is that nobody wants to volunteer for the alternative--going out there with a sharp implement and seperating this thing from its head. We all talk a good game, but when it comes down to it, killing these things is tough. Have you ever chopped someone's head off? Well, actually, if you're alive to read this, you probably have (unless, of course, you really are in 2011). It's really tough, unless you've got a Samurai sword or something (note to self--find Samurai sword). Plus, these are, or at least were, people. Luckily this watcher doesn't look like anybody I know, otherwise I'd have real issues. Then there's the whole bite thing. It seems like most, but not all, of those who get bitten end up turning. Somebody had a great theory on that--maybe I'll get into it in another post, but the bottom line is your chances aren't so good even if you get a superficial bite from one of these things. I guess what I'm saying is all those movies where the guys go out there with baseball bats and bash zombies like it's a freaking sport are pretty much full of shit, unless of course the heroes are thesort of people who are used to going around bashing people with baseball bats anyway (in which case it kind of makes sense). None of us really did that back in the normal times. I would have liked to sometimes, but never did it. Well, we're going to have to do something about this thing soon and I'm becoming increasingly afraid that I"m going to be the one who has to do it. If you don't hear from me again, you'll know what happened.  

Saturday, June 25, 2011

The Watcher

So, we picked up a watcher today. That's what we call the zombies that just stand outside the door and stare, waiting for you to come out. Shawn went out scouting, trying to figure out where all the zombies went, and well, he found one. Thanks a lot, Shawn--now we have to use the back door if we want out of this place.

Watchers are pretty much what did everybody in--the other survivors, I mean. Your first thought when you get inside and close the door is "I've got to keep them out!" Then nothing happens and you breathe a sigh of relief and you relax a little bit. Maybe after a few hours you even go to sleep. You wake up in the morning, the zombie is still there. You wait a few days, a week, a month, the zombie is still there. Maybe a few friends have joined him--they tend to group up when they're watching. Finally you're out of food or water and you've got to get out, but now you need to get past the zombies. Usually you don't make it.

We've got to take this one down. Fast. Problem is that we don't like to use guns. We don't think the stumblers hear so well (if at all), but how well do you have to hear to notice a gun shot? It sure seems like they come after people with guns. I'll have to talk to Matt--he's kind of our armorer. I'm sure he's got something big and sharp we can lop this thing's head off with.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

TItle Change

Okay, I'm changing the name of this blog. We can't figure out why the date keeps showing up as 2011, so I'm just going to run with it and call this "Greetings from 2014". If you're reading this in 2014, let me know we're not alone out here. If you're reading this in 2011, well, your life is going to suck really soon so enjoy yourself while you can.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Tech Support

Our computer guy tells me that these blogs are actually going somewhere, so I guess I'll keep posting them. There's apparently a satellite somewhere that doesn't know that the world is dead, so it keeps pumping out internet, or whatever the heck it does. This netbook thing apparently has a direct link to the satellite, so we're good until the satellite crashes or the zombies come and eat my brain. Or the battery goes dead. We've got solar here, so I can keep recharging as long as the battery keeps taking the charge.

I'm not sure what the odds are that somebody else out there finds the same satellite and is able to read and respond to this, but if you do, feel free to drop us a line. My cohorts are telling me I should include some survival tips in this thing, but my feeling is that if you're alive to read it, you've got a survival system that works for you.

I'm going to stop now so my computer guy can play with this for awhile--he's trying to figure out why the dates keep showing up as 2011. I miss 2011.  2011 was good.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The Corner Drugstore

Apparently, I got everybody else sick. Sorry I haven't posted for awhile, but I was in bad shape--borderline pneumonia would be my guess. Anyway, I got through it and nobody killed me in my sleep (why the hell everybody thought the sniffles is the first phase of zombie-ism is beyond me). Now we've got 3 more people sick and they're all blaming me so I've got elected to go to CVS and pick up some Theraflu.

The irony of this is that I don't believe in cold medication--I think it prolongs the sickness while masking the symptoms. I wouldn't have minded going for vitamins or snickers bars or something, but this goes against my principles. Nobody much cared about my principles and I was feeling guilty, so I went and got the stuff. I found this on the back wall by the pharmacy:

It created a bit of a dilemma for me because on the one hand I really wanted to call out and see if there really was somebody alive, but on the other hand I had made it all the way into the store without a close encounter with a zombie and I was really hoping to keep it that way. I'm not sure if it was really blood they wrote with, but if it was, I think the message may not be entirely accurate. If it was the writer's blood, they're surely dead by now. If it was zombie blood, the writer probably infected himself while writing with it and is surely a zombie by now. You're in a freaking drug store--couldn't you find a sharpie? Even if he is alive, he's a dumbass and we don't need him.

Funny thing--I didn't see any stumblers on the way back at all, and none close up on the way there. Nothing in the store either, as far as I could tell. They must have all been off at a zombie convention, or something. Or maybe they're starting to decay and die off like I hoped.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Damn summer colds

Over two billion people dead from some kind of zombie disease. I'm holed up in this compound for months with a handful of people with no contact with the outside world. I finally go out to look for food and I come back with a cold. How the hell do you catch a cold when there are no people out there? We got pretty close to some stumblers out there; I guess I could have caught it from them, but how the hell does a dead person carry a cold virus? If I caught that from them, what else did I catch? Everybody's looking at me kind of strangely now, like I'm going to turn, or something. It's just a freaking cold! I hope they all catch it from me. I think I'm going to go sneeze in the water tank.

ps. I hate Millville graham crackers.

Sunday, June 5, 2011


Okay, so this whole foraging thing. We sneak out at night, thinking maybe they won’t see us. That was good. The bad part is that we couldn’t see either, so we turned on a flashlight, also known as the zombie dinner bell. 15 blocks of running later, we finally make it to Sam’s Club. Just a note for those of you who haven’t already discovered this—Sam’s Club in not the place to go during a crisis (or, more to the point, a zombie apocalypse). Maybe just before, but not during. Not only is the place cleaned out because every idiot in town decided to hit it for supplies, but most of those idiots seemed to die in the checkout line, because there was a freaking zombie marching band waiting for us inside. We lost Kevin in that mess and all we got out of it was a stale box of ho-ho’s.

Aldi was better. There was nothing waiting for us in Aldi. It looked like they must have closed before the shit hit the fan and nobody ever thought to go there afterward. Only problem is that now we get spend the next month until our next forage eating "Millville" crackers and drinking "Dr. Popper" or whatever the hell that crap is that they had there. At least we’re alive. Well, except for Kevin.

Oh, one other thing, we hit the Radio Shack and found this weird netbook device—claims to have it’s own secure satellite network. If we can figure out how to get registered, maybe I can actually post some of this stuff.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

In Case Anyone Ever Sees This...

I guess before I launch into this blog, I should summarize the events that led me to it. Describe the end of the world in 500 words or less. No problem. It started in 2013. Everyone thought it would be 2012, but they were off by a year. Strangely enough, it may have been on December 21st, the day was that the Mayan calendar ended a year earlier—at least that's when the the first case or two showed up. I remember seeing something about it on the news around Christmas time. They didn’t call them zombie cases then—it was just a case of some guy in a Santa suit freaking out and biting somebody. By the time the first of the year came, we all knew what we were up against.

Everybody had seen the movies. Even the CDC had something on their website about "Surviving the Zombie Holocaust." For awhile it looked like we might weather the storm, as a society. The problem was that the movies weren’t exactly right. A blow to the head, or even a shot to the head might stun a zombie, even knock it unconscious (can a zombie be unconscious?), but then they get up again. The brain tissue reconnects or the nerves reroute or something. The only way to kill one is to decapitate it or render "Catastrophic damage" to the brain. At least that’s what Anderson Cooper said before they ripped him apart on live TV. I never really cared for him anyway, but I digress.

The cities are gone. Too many people equals too many zombies in short order. The suburbs aren’t much better. That’s where I’m at now. Where I’ve been since it happened. We had the local zombie population under control, but then the city zombies started wandering out. Kind of an undead urban sprawl, I guess. I imagine they’re doing better out in the country. The whole zombie thing is probably kind of fun for rednecks. I’m picturing them running around like those guys from "Swamp People" bagging zombies instead of alligators. I like to think my "Kin folk" down in Arkansas are alive and doing well. Anyway, I don’t really know how anybody is doing. Phones are down, cable and satellite TV are down. The only thing I can find on the radio is people begging for someone to come and save them and evangelists telling us the end has come. Sometimes it helps me sleep at night picturing zombies ripping the evangelists to shreds. I know I sound like a horrible person, but there’s only so much you can take, you know?

I’ve got a pretty nice set-up here. I was in security back when there was such a thing as security, so I was able to use my expertise to set up a nice little suburban fortress. We’ve got a few people here in our merry little band, and we split the work pretty well. The food won’t last forever, though. Sooner or later we’re going to have to go out and forage for food—can’t wait to see how that goes. Our group used to be quite a bit larger, but it seems like some people just can’t stay in one place too long. They go out to try to find friends or family, or to find some other remnant of civilization that they can cling to. Usually, we can hear them screaming within 15 minutes of the time they go out the gate. Not always, though—I like to think a few of them made it out and maybe found what they were looking for.

I guess the good thing about the zombies is they’re even dumber than they look in movies. They don’t organize or hunt in packs; they just kind of wander. The don’t seem to have very good hearing or smell, either—they seem to not know we exist until they see us. The thing that’s kind of a pain in the ass is that they’re patient. If they see you walk into a building, they probably won’t even try to open the door and go after you, but they’ll just stand outside the door. You could be in there for a week, and when you come out, the zombie will still be there, unless something more interesting came along. In the movies, these things never rot away—I’m hoping that’s wrong, too. Maybe we can outlast them.

I’m not even really sure why I’m writing this. For posterity, I guess. In the hope that we survive and someday move far enough away from this day that we need a written record to remind us of it. It happens. The black plague, the great depression, the holocaust—sometimes when you’re in the middle of something you can’t ever envision a time when the world will be right again, but then a few decades later you’ve got kids sitting in a classroom reading about it without a freaking clue. I hope my grandkids end up in that classroom. I wish I was there now. Anyway, I'm going to save this and post it if we ever find a live network connection somewhere so other survivors can see they're not alone. With my luck I'll get a bunch of televangelists posting back, telling me about the "End of Days."