Tags: zombies


Survival Journal: Conclusion.

I'm so very cold.

I've put my supplies out in the hall for the rest of the building to use. The gunfire on the first floor has stopped, but the tears haven't abated. I put tama out with the supplies, and filled his bowl. I hope someone takes care of him.

The ammo's out in the hall as well. I've locked the door. I've kept the glock.

In between trying to get my head around this, and reading from the book of Wisdom, I've written to a few people. I don't know if they'll get the message.

I loved so many people. There was so much more that I desired, but looking back, I got what I deserved and I am content.

I put on The Decemberists. One of the last new loves I had.

I can't feel the gun in my hand. I hope I have the strength. It tastes like plastic.

And from my ten floor tenement
Where once our bodies lay
How I long to hear you say
No, they'll never catch me now
No, they'll never catch me
No, they cannot catch me now
We will escape somehow

Survival Journal: Fuck.

Of course, now that it's too late, you can't turn a channel without hearing about 'The Crisis'. It reminds me of the 9/11 coverage. I remember working at Micro-tech USA, and joking with everyone about the idiot that had crashed their plane into the pentagon. 20 minutes later we were all huddled in front of a television watching the horror. And from then it was crashing towers for six months.

Unsurprisingly, no one's talking about Iraq. I can't imagine there's anything left.

There was an airstrike, but not where I'd expected. This afternoon, during my shift downstairs, you could hear the thunder under a clear blue sky. My city is being contained.

David is dead.
Momentrabbit is dead.
Flechyr is dead.

My gaian friends are still alive and in various stages of crisis. If Chris is alive, I don't know. I haven't heard from Molly or Ned, and as for the rest of my family, I don't know. Bunny, Puppy, Masque, Ellie...

Fuck, if they live, they won't know either.

I joked once that my Jesuit education would get me killed. That I'm willing to do the 'right' thing, if it's not the 'safe' thing.

She was screaming. I don't know if she lives here or not, but she was screaming. They had their hands on her and I ran through the door pulling them off. Nobody helped me until I was close to the door. She's fine. Just basic cuts and scrapes. Traumatized as fuck, but she'll live.

My right calf is numb, itching at the sides. I didn't notice it until I showered. It's not much, but I could use the pattern for dental records. Nobody else in the building knows.  Tama's hiding in the tub. If I get to close to him, he freaks out badly.

It doesn't hurt. And I don't regret what I did. I'm heating up a pizza and having some Journey soda. [i]Idiocracy[/i] came by netflix yesterday. I'll watch that for a while. I also have the first episodes of the second season of [i]Deadwood[/i]. I don't see the point, though. I'll never know how it ends. I could just give up on the tube and read my oxford bible, and the spiritual exercises.

I did a good thing. This whole situation is outside my control. I'm one of countless millions in the cities of the world who are facing this. It's not my fault.


Survival Journal: Noon

I just heard the police pass by. They told people to make their way to Loyola's Campus. After reading David's journal, I'm not sure that's a really good idea.

So far, I know Linn and Rene are okay. Linn's nearby family are good, and Gen and Rene are following the rules. I got an email from Molly, frantically trying to see if I was okay. She's holed up at Davis, and according to her, Ned's at the law offices. No word on Mom and Dad, or on Peter & Jamie. If Dad made it to the Federal Building, I'm sure he'll be okay. Hopefully, he'll convince Mom to go there too. Peter and Jamie, though...They're both tough fuckers, and LA is a big place.

People are -really- going out of their way to not mention the 'Z' word online. Linn uses Ex-person. I'll go with that for now. 

The reaction in the building is varied. Those freaking out calmed down really fast when we threatened to throw them outside. The violinist down the hall who kept me sane last Christmas is playing. Some are holding parties. The amount of random gunfire I'm hearing combined with the shouts sounds like more than a few are taking potshots. I'm really concerned that there's still so many ex-people to shoot. I don't dare think the living are being shot as well. 

There's talk of 'Containing' Iraq. I don't like the sound of that at all. It's bad enough that we've got Dobbs blaming illegal aliens for this outbreak. We don't need another grand presidential blunder. Isn't it bad enough we're missing so much of the national guard?

Crap. Granado Espada just went down. I don't know if it's for the turnover to the Open Beta, or ex-singaporeans have taken over IAH games.

The smell is terrible, and the bodies are beginning to pile on lunt. I've heard helicopters and fighters. Perhaps they're going to 'contain' graceland?

I'm going downstairs for my shift at the doors. Please. If I haven't heard from you, I'm going to assume the worst.
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Survival Journal: 8am

Got an automated email from Dr Maves of the AMA imploring me to come to work. Apparantly both citizens and physicians are calling trying to figure out what's going on, what to do. Which means:

1. ) My Cell's dead because something happened locally to a station or tower

2. ) I'm being asked to find a way -into- the city. 

I do wonder if the buses are still running. But honestly, fuck waiting for a bus. WTH?

The other option is cabs or walking. All things considered, cab rates must be going nuts, and the thought of walking 9 miles, especially past the Wilson sphere. Fuck that. And if I get there, I don;t know what the food and water situation will be at 515 State. Better the devil you know.

I've been having a high time reading the rapture folk's blogs. You gotta love when the dead rise, and nobody they know has jumped ship. They cling to hope though. Any missing person is presumed ascended bodily into heaven. 

No updates on iraq. There's rumors of either an airlift or an airstrike, but considering what we're fighting for in iraq, my guess will be border security and praying for a miracle. No way anyone's going to blow up that much oil. At the same time, Kuwait, turkey...It does not bode well. 

Not a lot of people on the Granado Espada Singapore servers. So I guess there is a silver lining to all this.

Survival Journal: The Hungry Dead

(based on the Blog Like It's The End of the World meme)

If there was anything I can credit this president with, it's the lifting of the 10 day waiting period for guns yesterday.

If Devon's still alive, he must be laughing his ass off that I'm holding in my hands the device that sparked such contention between us. Then again, it's not exactly as if I'm turning it on the living. I like to keep telling myself that.

The fact that I still have internet access and cable gives me hope that some of my friends are still out there. When I first heard of the problem a few days ago, I thought it'd be all right. Even though my flat is surrounded on three sides by cemeteries (Graceland to the south, Calgary to the north, and about three or four to the west of me), I figured it was still containable. The percentages of dead rising from the grave is still statistically small. In Graceland, they're infinitessimal. Potter Palmer's dusty bones weren't going to break out of the mausoleum any time soon. It had to be the -recently- dead.

Reading Brad's blog on infection rates and contamination spheres was what pushed me to my current state. That, and the shutting down of the El. Calgary meant that Howard Street was going to fall fast. Graceland meant Wilson. From those tight packets, it was going to go crazy.

I've met a lot of new friends in my building. Unsurprisingly, most are college students. En masse, we made a supply push to Dominick's on Howard and back. The activity was still relatively minimal. The fights were more within Dominick's with the living. I'm really not proud of what I did. A few of us pulled the same stunt over at some of the gun shops on far Devon. The further we got from our building, the scarier it became.

Both entrances to  the building are under an armed barricade. We've blocked the windows on the ground apartments, and moved everyone up into the upper floors. I'm blessed with not having a sudden roommate. The agreement is volunteer four hour shifts. In our neighborhood, we're not unique. The large apartment building just east of the El stop is a fortress. At last, the gangs are doing something useful, even if it's protecting their own.

We've despaired of rescue. Most of the national guard and reserves are out in the desert. We're not getting much straight news, but the rumor is our entire military in Iraq is literally being eaten alive. It seems the Lancet study was more accurate than people gave it credit.

So I'm here with Tama, my new Glock, and a ton of ammunition. Tama, unsurprisingly, is a mess. The tension all around him keeps him yowling non stop. From my kitchen window, I can see the street, so I'm getting target practice in when I get twitchy. Other than that, it's games and cable right now, games when the cable goes, and books when the electricity goes. Internet-wise, my obsession can't keep me from the compiliation of survivor blogs that are building up. I'm stocked officially for a month. Given community need, I figure it's a week. Food is where it's going to get really ugly in my neighborhood. The smaller sources have got to be wiped. And the big ones...The risk is -so- great, and I'm certain the gangs have the Howard Dominick's by now.

I wish I knew if any of you are still around. I can't bear the thought of any of you changed like the staggering masses I've seen outside, but it's all that's going through my brain. I envision Brenda having a valiant, bladed last stand. Kevin plowing through unnamed dead before they yank him out of the car he finished buying. Joe with bushmills in one hand and a shotgun in the other. My family in the hills of California. My brother in the valley. Before my cell reception went, Puppy'd assured me he and Bunny would be okay. Puppy's smart. I trust him. If any of you -are- still out there, leave a message on the journal.

I know only one person recently dead in my circle. And intellectually, I know that his family buried him in traditional funeral attire. But all I can see in my mind is Yuri Tsukino, clad in a lycra bodysuit, and a Sailor Venus costume, shuffling with the rest of the hungry dead, a painted smile on her  fiberglass face, and a nightmare underneath the mask.

UPDATE: The rumor is over a half million dead attacked the living in Iraq From the locations of the bodies, the infection to the civilian population is ridiculous. We're losing soldiers like crazy. I'm waiting for more information. Maybe an airstrike?