Tagged with "32nd"
December 16th, 2011 Tags: 232nd entry

December 16th.

                I recall vaguely saying the other day that the gift of communications equipment from Kevin gave me serious wood, or something to that extent.  His gift today put semen on the ceiling.  Never mind having an erection, I put Adrian chowder through pants, and into the ceiling.

                Kevin gave me an M4A1, SOPMOD. 

                Mr. Journal, if you’re the kind of person that doesn’t know shit, the M4A1 is superior to my current weapon in one huge way; instead of the three round burst option on the fire selector, it goes from semi, straight to full auto.

                Boo yah!

                My man Kevin came through in the clutch!  I guess when he was back in England at that base with the PJ guys, they more or less raided the hell out of whatever they could find for when they had to leave.  That’s why they have MREs and crates of ammo, and gun oil, and spare parts, and anti tank weapons, and etc etc.  They’re loaded for bear, bigtime.

                Now because the PJs are technically special operations guys, they had access to the SOPMOD kits, which are for all intents and purposes, Legos for military guys.  You can modify your M4A1 to have lights, grips, grenade launchers, new stocks, suppressors, scopes, Aimpoints, etc.  Basically, you take a high quality weapon, and customize it to your liking, or needs.

                Of course Kevin kitted it out the way he thought I’d like it, and shit, he did it perfectly, but when he gave me the rest of the gear in the kit, he clearly omitted the M203 grenade launcher.  Now I felt this was a huge oversight on his part, and I brought that to his attention while he was drinking a tea (of all drinks), and told me in not so many words, that I simply didn’t need it.

                Like it’s about NEED at this point.  The fucker has grenade launchers in a case somewhere, and I want one.  I don’t NEED it.  I just WANT it.

                He did bring up the point that with my body still coming back from my gunshot wound I was probably too weak to carry around a handful of 40mm fragmentation on me all the time.  They aren’t that heavy, but a handful of them adds up.  As they say, ounces make pounds, and pounds make pain.  The less we can carry the faster we move, and the less energy we expend, and blah blah.

                It pisses me off that he makes sense.  I hate it when people make sense and I take it in the pooper as a result.  Oh well.  He and I basically agreed that perhaps shortly down the road, I could get the M203 and some 40mm to go along with it.  I’ll just have to be patient, and continue to work on getting back into shape.  My constant running and workouts are paying off already, and I’m almost back to a fully capable condition.  Sore all the time, but getting better.

                I think I spent twenty minutes breaking that thing down and putting it back together again before I realized that I had to go to the grand opening of the school. 

                I got there right as the last bits of food were being eaten, and Michelle was doing her two penny song and dance for the kids and families, and parents, and gathered folks.  Pretty much every person who wasn’t NEEDED somewhere else was there, as it was a goddamn exciting moment.

                The various “teachers” went over what they would be teaching, and where they’d be teaching it, and the small group of teaching aides announced who they were too.  Michelle and Kim and Melissa did a great job rearranging everything in the bottom floor, moving some classroom desks in, and some of the furniture out.  It looks an awful lot like one of those old home on the prairie school houses.  Everyone seemed really pleased.  Legitimately really pleased.

                I congratulated her after all the people left, and she seemed incredibly nervous, even after the whole presentation.  She feels the weight of restarting the education system fully on her shoulders.  Funny that someone with a PhD that has done speeches at conferences, and traveled the world can feel so much pressure to succeed in so small a venture.  I think she’s making a mountain out of a molehill.  Right now, we need basic education that’s age appropriate, and life skills for a world these kids were thrust into.  We can work out the details as we go, the best we can.

                My short pep talk seemed to brighten her up.  It was nice to see her smile.  She hasn’t smiled a whole lot since she arrived here.  At least not around me.  As I said once, I am fairly sure she thinks I am a weirdo.  It was nice to get some positive time with her.  We’re supposed to be in this whole Trinity thing together, and I suspect we’ll need to work together very closely to “save mankind.”

                The more I think about it, the more I think doing stuff like this, is what was meant when the burden of saving humanity was pressed upon us.  Not just some epic battle with the Devil, but a prolonged restarting of humanity.  Pulling us out of the darkness of despair and greed, and moving us into a new generation of a better civilization.

                Reinventing the human condition might be our way of saving mankind.

                No sign of our trespassing… thing.  No footprints, no video footage, nothing stolen, and no signs of anything at all.  We’re still posting sentries nightly at the maintenance garage, and we’ve still got two eyes on the video feeds 24 hours a day.  More than that really.  I know folks are up late with me.

                Not much else new really.  We’re still working on the new towers as of tomorrow.  Nothing has been happening outside the walls lately, as we’ve had enough supplies to get all of our current projects up and running.  Cold weather lately too has been a bit of a hurdle, and as we watch the ice spread on the lake, the feeling of that wall across the back end of campus makes me very happy.

                We’re going to have to build some roads here soon.  Hm.  Anyway, Otis is bopping me in the arm with his head, and that means I need to get to bed.  Adios amigo.

 

                -Adrian

NEXT ENTRY

May 21st Tags: 132nd entry

 

May 21st.

                So much to write about Mr. Journal.  I am totally fucking exhausted here.  I have half a mind to just… say fuck it and go to bed, but I know if I pull the covers up over my face, I’ll just sit here like a bump on a log wishing I’d written all this shit down while it’s relatively fresh in my memory.  Then I won’t be able to sleep, and I’ll get up, and do it anyway. 

                Obviously, I am still alive, which means our quasi confrontation/meeting at The Farm went well on some levels.  Actually, on many levels, but there’s always something to make it fucked up.  I’ll save that for last.  Gotta tantalize you Mr. Journal.

                Ollie returned to us from Westfield yesterday with a bag full of mixed news.  Obviously he’s been with his dad at the big farm, helping him taking care of things.  He said the farm itself is well, moving right along with no issues, and he said his dad was terrific too.  A little frazzled from the new people driving by the farm on the regular, but thankfully things haven’t escalated to violence yet. 

                On a similar note, the signs that Mike and Lisa have placed around town there seem to be working to bring folks in.  I guess they were visited by about a dozen folks in a few small groups asking for food and water, and they’ve dodged some pretty scary situations as a result.  We don’t want folks to starve, and we don’t want to fight folks, so anything we (they) can do that achieves both agendas is awesome.

                Ollie spent last night with Melissa, and headed back to be with his dad this evening after we returned from the meeting at the Adams farm.  Melissa was… sad.  Ollie too. They’re so sweet together it’s disgusting.  On a similar note, I was sort of hoping to get some kind of love letter, or Hustler confession from Mallory via him.  But… zilch.  Maybe she and I aren’t going to be as regular a thing as my penis is hoping for.  Oh well.  I’ll take what I can get.  Ollie plans on returning on the 23rd.  Hopefully everything is safe and sound back in Westfield while he’s there.

                Yesterday Gavin went out solo to do recon on the farm.  I had him go to the area behind the farm’s field and observe from that direction because there was a much better line of sight into the rooms where we’d seen the pregnant women.  If Blake’s significant other is about to pop, I kinda wanted to increase our chances of getting eyes on.  Gavin said downtown was infested with the undead, and in retrospect, it was really dumb to send him out there alone.  I don’t know who else could’ve gone though.  Patty maybe, but that just seems weird to me.  Water over the dam I suppose.  Gavin was fine.

                He did say the downtown area had filled up yet again yesterday, which tells me there has GOT to be something leading them in here from somewhere.  Shit, never mind what happened today.  Is it more survivors dragging them back into town?  Are these escapees from buildings that have opened up somehow?  Is something calling them home to roost?  Fucked if I know.  Now would be a great time to get one of those awesome dreams the fill me in on the shit that’s confusing me.

                Anyone listening?

                Alright.  So this morning we set out early to meet the Edwards family at their home prior to heading to The Farm for the trade.   We never set a specific time to meet with the Adams folks, so there was no rush, but I am glad we left early.  As I said above, Gavin reported downtown was bad, and sure as shit it still was.

                We went with three vehicles, which was a good idea.  Myself and Abby in the HRT, Gilbert and Patty in the Tundra, and Gavin and Blake in the Dodge.  Things were fairly normal until we reached the area the police/fire station is at.  The undead were two or three deep in strange knotted groups covering the road, almost spaced out far enough to wind our way in between without having to hit them to get through.  I radioed it back to the others, and after stopping for a second to think about it, we pushed forward, moving side to side around the groups.

                Remember back when all those pricks wandered onto campus carrying the books?  You remember how they didn’t do shit to us until we fired on them?  It was a lot like that.  Until we were mixed into the patches with undead on the sides, they did nothing but shuffle their feet like we weren’t even there.  Once we were in their midst though… it was like a light switch was thrown.  They all turned simultaneously and stared at us with those creepy fucking eyes, and then collapsed on the sides of the trucks like we were fresh meat.  The pit of my stomach cropped like a rock.

                Abby called out “floor it!” on the radio as I did just that.  I wasn’t about to wait for them to get up under us somehow and fuck us over.  The big old bitch jumped, and I cut the wheel sharply right at the last large patch of undead in the road.  They were obliterated by the huge bumper and grill of the truck.  I wished we’d had that plow blade Blake is working on.  Two or three of the fuckers were smashed right into the front of the damn truck so forcefully they were lodged there, and when we finally broke free, we had to stop for a minute, brain them with the fucking halligans, and then pry them off the truck like undead roadkill.

                Mercifully, we made it out of that fucked up ambush as cleanly as possible.  The tail vehicles did have some trouble. Blake and Gavin in the tail truck had to roll the windows down to shoot off a few undead that managed to latch onto the truck.  They had three zombies manage to go ass over tea kettle over the side of the truck and get into the bed, which is something I never thought would happen.  I guess Gavin opened the slider window and used his sidearm to kill them while we were flooring it out.  Messy business.  Definitely makes me not want to go back downtown for some time.

                I think we made it to the Edwards house to meet Larry and Candace at around 10:30 or so, which was at least 45 minutes longer than it should’ve taken.  Fucking zombies.  Candace was out in the yard like a boss keeping watch, and she waved and greeted us up.  We parked the trucks in the yard and Gilbert, Patty and I went to their trailer to go over the details.  While we were talking, Blake ad Gavin left with the two trucks, drove back around the side roads, and made their way to our two sniper positions in the woods. 

                Sort of surprisingly, the Edwards folks were calm, and almost excited.  Does that sense?  It seems like a contradiction.  Maybe I should say they didn’t strike me as being nervous.  Like, “hey, yeah, this’ll be great, I hope it works out!  Let’s do this!”

                We told them what items we’d brought, and what our agenda was as far as learning some things about these people.  As we said to them before, there was a huge amount of bad rumors floating around our camp about them, and we really wanted to let Gilbert and Patty do their work on trying to gently coax tidbits free.

                We did not tell them that if things were to get weird (read: violent or potentially dangerous), we had shooters on sight, and that we were fully ready to engage them with punishing fire at a moment’s notice.  Now, as you might imagine, that could’ve changed their largely jovial attitude regarding the whole meeting.  Better to tell them later.  See: ignorance is bliss.

                Here’s where shit gets weird, and weird again.  (read: strange, and otherworldly, followed by aggravating, and potentially dangerous)

                I held down the fort at the HRT with Abby.  Blake and Gavin were already in position by then, and Gilbert and Patty walked on foot to The Farm with Larry and Candace.  We knew these assholes had enough smarts to use walkies, so we skipped on the previously used idea of leaving a walkie running hot so we could all overhear.  If they tabbed through the channels and heard us broadcasting the whole meeting, it could jeopardize everything. 

                I was in the dark.  We went radio silent, and with no scope or LOS from the trucks, I had to sit there, and wait for them to come back.  You wanna talk about aggravating?  Fuck my life.  I am reminded distinctly of when Kevin and I would get frag-o’s in Iraq to get our shit together to move, and we’d get all set up, only to have the Op cancelled at the last second.  All dressed up, and nowhere to go.  Horrible. 

Point me at a problem, and let me shoot it. 

                It was precisely 2 hours and 53 minutes before they returned.  Subtract time for the walk down the road, and we’re looking at an hour of face time with the pastor.  Gilbert and Patty were smiling, and judging by the lack of blood over anyone, it went down well.

                Gilbert looked at me and gave me one of his ancient thumbs up for approval.  He didn’t want to say too much right there in front of Larry and Candace.  Here’s what he said there, which was kinda telling, if you get my drift.

                “Well, Adams seems like a good man.  His people seem like good people too.  Little bit too into the church thing for my taste, but to each their own.”

                “What about the women? What about Blake’s girlfriend?”  I asked him.

                “Well, he says that God sent him a message.  He says that they had dreams about where to find these people, and lo and behold, after every dream, they found one of the ladies with child.  He also claims that the girls here who have gotten pregnant since arriving, have conceived immaculately.  I don’t quite buy that, I think someone is getting some hanky-panky and not being upright about it, but the man seems pretty convinced of it.”

                “Dreams?”  I raised an eyebrow.

                Gilbert nodded, knowing what I was getting at, “yeah son, dreams.”

                So maybe they are good after all.  Maybe they’re seeing the same dreams I am.  Maybe they’re being guided, or informed, or whatever just like I am too?  I am strangely relieved by this news.  I mean, it’d been weird if they had some quasi believable cover story or something, but this is… very real to me.  No one can understand what has happened to me in my sleep those few times, and how those dreams burn right into you.  If he’s having the same kind of dreams, then I need to believe him, or I essentially say to myself, Adrian, you are bat shit crazy.

                Incidentally, what exactly is crazy about guano?  I mean, it’s shit.  Shit is gross, not necessarily crazy.  If bats crapped neon green floating turds that spoke to you, then I’d totally understand that expression.  Wow.  Tangent.

                Gilbert went on to explain that Blake’s woman Kim accepted the entrance to The Farm for protection’s sake, and when she realized she was pregnant with the kid, she elected to stay behind.  Moving out and about town pregnant with Blake as her only protection risked the life of her child.  She thought it was best that Blake be told to leave, and that she wanted no more contact with him.  He has a temper after all. 

                I don’t like the idea of me being bat shit crazy, so I’m gonna go on faith, and go on Gilbert and Patty’s opinion here.  The Farm is legit.  It all makes sense.  If he’s having dreams like mine... then the pregnant ladies (immaculate conception and all) are not that far out of the question.  Kim’s story is believable, especially in the light of the dream thing too.

                I’m getting ahead again. 

                So we shot the shit about the basic meeting while Gavin and Blake made their way back to us.  Gavin was normal, and Blake was kind of uppity, and pushy.  It took a Gilbert stare to get him to let it go for the moment.  Gilbert assumed command, and invited the Edwards family back to our place for an evening cookout on campus tomorrow. 

                I was a little taken aback by the sudden and enormous gesture of hospitality.  Later on Gilbert and Patty both said it was due to the few hours of talk on the walk over and back.  Candace was good people, Larry was good people, and their kid Tucker was a good shit.  Just solid people, with usable skills.

                We told them we’d come back and get them tomorrow at about 3pm for the dinner.  When they arrive here on campus, we’ll present them with the SUV we promised them for helping us.  That way, they can drive themselves home.

                Speaking of strange and ironic drives… The way back here was wide open and clear.  I think we saw something like twenty or thirty undead in the streets, which is still a lot, but compared to the morning’s drive over… That’s nothing.  I don’t know if they were pulled away by something else moving or what.  It’s like a giant frigging chess game.  Pawns move one way, pawns move another…  I hope someone is a few moves ahead of their opponent here, and I hope it’s me.

                When we got back to campus, Blake blew his top.  He couldn’t wait to hear about what happened at the meeting, and if we had any news about Kim.  Clearly, this was a hot issue for him as well as us.

                We piled into Hall E and after getting our shit off and cleaned up, we started making dinner.  Gilbert and Patty sat Blake down in the living room and made damn sure that he had no guns or knives.  Then they gently told him that she was there, that she was carrying his kid, and that she was safe and sound. 

                His response to that was predictably awesome.  He was thrilled to hear he was about to be a father.  Tears of joy, all that jazz.  Gilbert then told him that according to the Pastor, she was a little scared of him and the risks he took, and she felt her and the baby were safer inside The Farm.  Blake’s response to that was predictably not good.

                His first response was, “that guy is lying, she’d never say that.”

                Gilbert of course agreed with that line of logic, conceding that it was possible, and said that in a few days we’d be trying to meet them again for another trade, and we were going to work on seeing if she’d be willing to talk to him.  I guess she’s due any minute now, so a birth might be right around the corner.    However, the idea that we are on good speaking terms with The Farm now clearly alleviated his tension.  Patty was awesome because she played the whole “caring mom” part.  Blake will likely not be sleeping for some time.  Expectant post apocalyptic father.

                So yeah.  We’re getting the Edwards clan here for dinner at about 3pm.  I feel like that will go well.  The weather has turned nice, the leaves are green, and if things stay good at Westfield, we can focus on killing the undead in town, and continuing to try and make this damned world a better place.

 

                Otis is being weird.  He’s sleeping in the closet on top of some of my dirty clothes.  Weird ass cat.

                I’ll toss an entry in tomorrow after the Edwards folks take off.  I’d like to put two nice entries about two good days in this journal in a row.  Wouldn’t that be swell.

 

                -Adrian

              

 

NEXT ENTRY

December 3rd Tags: 32nd entry

December 3rd.

                I have managed to survive to today despite my earlier attempts to jinx myself.  Sometimes, I am stupid.  I have been lucky lately though, and have dodged putting the kibosh on myself.  I really need to watch what I say.  Eventually I WILL say something and regret it.

               Where to start?  Let’s talk about the weather Mr. Journal.  It’s fucking cold out.  I’ve had to turn the heat up a little at night to stay warm.  Currently I’ve got the heat on 60 at night, and it seems to be running almost all night.  I’m still pretty chilly, but with Otis and pile of blankets, I’ll survive.  At this rate, I’ll burn through my fuel supply much faster than I anticipated.  I need to keep a good watch on how long my generator’s tank lasts me.  I suspect I’ll need to get up to fill it during the night if I keep at the rate I’m going.  I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.  I thought I was good at figuring this shit out too.  I’ve been wrong on so many things.

               As you might imagine it has also been cold during the day.  Not quite as cold as at night, but still pretty cold.  Solid 35 to 40 degrees during the day, dipping down to 20 to 25 degrees at night.  It’s only early December too, and if this trend keeps up, February is going to be a motherfucker.

               My thumb is much better, but it’s terribly stiff.  I take a couple Ibuprofen for it every 6 hours or so, and that makes it more or less fine.  I hate sprains, they take so long to heal and generally just gum up the works while they’re taking their sweet ass time. Whatever I guess!  It is what it is and it’s almost all better.  At least I didn’t get bitten.  Sprains are much less fatal.

               My venison obsession has come to an abrupt halt.  I’ve eaten far too much of it already.  I set up my makeshift fridge for the meats upstairs in a room that I’m not heating.  It stays about 40 degrees all the time, which is just good enough seeing as how it’s all smoked.  The meat has kept great for me, but I just over indulged and now I need a break.  I have half a mind here one of these early mornings to try and bag some of the turkey I used to see roaming the fields before the shit hit the fan.  I actually wonder if the zombies have eaten them?  Turkeys can move though, so maybe they’re safe.

               The lake has started to freeze.  There’s a fine crust at the edges that’s millimeters thick.  In another couple weeks if these temperatures hold there will be a really good freeze going on.  Kinda makes the whole island aspect of this place seem pointless eh?  I guess it’ll keep vehicles out, but any shambling zombies can just march across the ice once it’s cold enough.

               Speaking of cold enough, I wonder if the zombies will freeze?  Is there any body heat being generated inside them?  I haven’t seen that many since the temperatures really dropped, so it stands to some reason that they’re all freezing solid out there somewhere.  Although it’s strange, because when I shoot them now, they still kinda… ooze blood, which makes no sense at all.  All their blood should be fully gelled up inside them. 

                This really makes me wonder what the hell is causing all this.  A virus?  Biological weapons?  Is it supernatural?  Fucked if I know.  I wonder if anyone has found out what’s going on.  I’m sure somewhere on some huge military base they’ve got a good idea of the story.  Out here in the sticks on campus I don’t know shit beyond my doorstep.  Hell I haven’t even been into town in … a very long time.

               I should talk more about my early times here.  Before I do that though, I’ll tell you about yesterday and today.  Yesterday I finished clearing Auburn Lake Road.  There were two houses left on the street, and I got them searched and emptied with no danger involved.  Both houses looked to be left exactly as they had if someone was supposed to be coming back.  My bet is the residents never made it home “that day.”  They’re either holed up and stuck somewhere, or they died.  Either way, their shit is now mine. 

                Two items came up at the second house that I was unable to retrieve.  The people living there were snowmobile enthusiasts.  This is a good thing.  Sort of.  For some reason there was no snowmobile trailer in their yard, so I had no way to get the machines back to campus.  I’ll have to wait for snow, and then just drive them back.  They had two of them, incidentally.  That little find will go a long way towards making winter safer, and more tolerable.  The four wheeler is a nice toy, but in really deep snow it’ll struggle.  Once I get a trail packed for the snow machines, I’ll be all set to get around in a pretty wide area regardless of the weather.

                As I said, I didn’t get a whole lot more of use.  Blah blah.  Today I started to work on the houses on Jones Road.  If you’ll recall Mr. Journal I mentioned before that there were nine houses on Jones Road, and the last one is a rather large farmhouse.  I’m really hoping that farmhouse has cool shit.  I’m saving it for last on this road.  Earlier I did three houses on Jones Road. Lather, rinse, repeat.  Apparently no one in this neighborhood made it home that day.  Most of the houses coming up here have been abandoned.  As in, the owners never came home, or they came home and left all their shit. Whatever I guess.

                All three houses were stocked reasonably well.  I found a few dead animals in them though, which smelled bad and put me on red alert.  I’m always sad when it comes to animals getting hurt or dying.  I always make myself feel like there was something I could’ve done.  Shitty thing is there WAS something I could’ve done.  I could’ve easily checked these houses and rescued these animals.  All I had to do was open the doors and let them out.  Of course if I had done that, I would be exposed because of dumbass barking dogs.  I guess it’s a mixed bag.  Dogs scare me.  Not like, Adrian is afraid of dogs in that sense.  More of a….  dogs bark, barks are loud, noise is bad, noise brings zombies, therefore dogs are bad.  Plus it’s hard enough to feed myself ongoing.  If I had done something about these animals I’d be the Dr. Doolittle of the post zombie apocalypse, and I’d likely be starving myself to save the animals.

                At any rate, the houses were cleared out of bodies and remaining decent supplies, and that’s the end of the Jones Road story for today Mr. Journal.

                I can rewind a bit here and talk about the early days here on campus.  I went back and re-read the entry I put up awhile back talking about my trip back down the grocery store and realized I skipped the most informative part of that time period. 

                So the first few days were the last few days that there were television and radio broadcasts.  I sat around plugged into the television while it lasted.  It made me feel safe to not move around much, plus I was desperate for information.  I think the television reports were up and running for about 3 days.  However long it took me to build up the nerve to go downtown, that’s how long the tv worked.  The television abruptly cut out when I was watching it around dinnertime, so I’m wondering if there was some kind of severing of the service, rather than a “we’re going off the air now” kinda thing.  It was working, then there was static.  Don’t know.  Maybe there was a fire at the cable company. 

                I didn’t get shit for information off the tv at first.  It was more of the same from the reports from “that day.”  I can say the spread of whatever it was that caused this was pretty thorough.  Mr. Journal if you’ll recall from earlier entries there was a widespread outbreak of attacks on people.  All across the world these attacks occurred more or less at the same time.  I now know that these attacks were perpetrated by what I’m calling zombies.  At the time the media flat out refused to really jump on the bandwagon.  It wasn’t until the tv died and the radio became my source of info that they actually fessed up and said that the dead were returning to life. 

                So early on as I recall the tv and radio said the attacks were small business.  One or two zombies, here and there.  Most of the time I think the zombies were beaten back to death with little or no incident.  The problem with it getting out of hand seems to have stemmed with corpse storage, and widespread media panic.  I know, what the fuck?  Right?

                The media reported it was a virus, or perhaps a widespread terrorist launched biological weapon, or whatever.  The media had no idea, and they were speculating.  Humans, herd animals that we are, all panicked.  Well not all, but the panic was widespread and severe.  The bites infected the living, that much we knew then, and I know now.  What was a bigger deal was that the dead were rising all on their own, all over the world.  The outbreaks kept cropping up in different places that seemingly had no connection to previous outbreaks.  One of the first and strongest theories was that a latent virus had been spread at the World Cup in South Africa earlier that month.  Lots of disparate people from all over the world in one place…  Then they go home, there’s an incubation period, and WHAM.  Global pandemic.  I knew those vuvuzuelas were bad news.  Fucking horns.

                What that meant (I think) is that people around dead bodies didn’t take proper precautions.  This explains why hospitals became such hot zones so fast.  Many hospitals have morgues.  Morgues are filled with dead bodies.  These bodies, already inside the hospital, were sitting up, getting freed, and sending the hospitals into total havoc.  Imagine a coroner who is tagging a toe, and his body sits up.  He screams for assistance for the person who was almost dead, and proceeds to get bitten while he renders aid.  People were rushing to the hospitals at the same time, thinking they were infected, and essentially ran right into their own doom.  Now as best as I’ve been able to figure out, the bites seem to take hours to kill.  However, someone who just dies…. Gets right the fuck back up in minutes.

                What they concluded, and I’ve basically confirmed, is that if you are bitten, it’s like being poisoned, not so much being infected.  The bites give you a terminal illness which kills you.  However, everyone that dies comes back.  Everyone.  Bitten or not. That tells me if this is a virus, or a biological weapon, we are all already infected.  That makes no sense to me though the more I’ve thought about it.

                How did all these zombie outbreaks occur so quickly, so far apart from each other?  How did the second wave of outbreaks occur?  I mean we’re talking about outbreaks from Indonesia to Russia to Qatar to Seattle, to Anchorage, to Nairobi to Krakow.  It would’ve taken thousands of terrorists to pull it off simultaneously.  Also, if this was some kind of naturally occurring virus, how the fuck did it spread so far, so fast?  And how did the virus wait, essentially intelligently, to strike at the same moment all across the world?  It’s like a biological doomsday clock, counting down to “that day.”

                Now I’m speculating here Mr. Journal.  Sheer guesswork.  I think this isn’t of this Earth.  I am not saying aliens did this.  I’m wondering if this is supernatural.  It makes a lot more sense when you remove science from the equation.

                If everyone across the world suddenly started rising from the dead, it makes a lot more sense to me if it were “God’s will.”  Or if the Devil finally won some argument with God and got to use Earth as a playground for a bit.  Oddly enough I am completely okay with those scenarios.  I can wrap my head around it.

                It explains why the geographical distance didn’t matter.  It also explains why regardless of cause of death, you get the hell back up as a zombie.  Perhaps this isn’t an infection, or a virus, or a weapon at all.

                Maybe this is a curse.  Surely humanity has earned some payback from up on high.  We treat each other like shit, we wage war constantly, we fight over beliefs, we destroy our environment.  We seem to do everything wrong en masse, and perhaps some greater power has decided that it’s time we were put in our place.

                I am okay with this.  I don’t know why, but whenever I think about it this way, I am not bothered by it.  I feel like maybe, just maybe if this is why this happened, I can earn my place on this Earth again.  I can deserve to survive.  I can get back in the good graces of whatever all mighty beings are doing this to us.  I can make penance for my “sins.”

                That’s my current favorite theory.  I just can’t wrap my head around an infection in the normal sense.  Just can’t do it.

                Anyway, those first few days were a wreck.  So many people were just ignorant of the dangers the dead posed.  First responders paid the price I guess.  They’d show up to a dying person, provide assistance, they’d live or die, and then the dice would get rolled.  If the person died, they’d sit up, bite the medic or fireman, cop or whatever and then they were down for the count.  In the waning days of the tv they said there were so few medically qualified trained responders 911 calls went unanswered.  Doctors and nurses were right at the epicenters at the hospitals, and the EMTs, cops and firemen were the people most likely to get bitten. 

                I’m sure you can see what happened after that Mr. Journal.  House fires and accidents went unanswered.  Car wrecks received no attention, and the sick and ill that needed medical assistance got none.  Those trying to care for those people were in the wrong place to survive themselves.  They often got killed or bitten trying to help, which caused it all to spiral further out of control.  I remember hearing reports about the number of people bitten, and the numbers were mind numbing.  Thousands all over the place just that first night and day. Every bite victim became a zombie within a few hours, and quite likely, bit someone else.

                Some areas of the world were flat out written off.   Haiti was still recovering from their earthquake earlier in the year, and the sudden lack of foreign aid sent the country tumbling into a cholera outbreak.  The entire island was written off in days.  There were multiple plane crashes that caused entire regions to be turned into forbidden zones.  Lots of planes crashed that day.  Many went to Greenland after the US and Canada turned them away.  I guess no one heard from them after a few days.  Israel was a fucking wreck.  The riots there caused things to get out of control in hours.  Too much end of the world news caused the Palestinians and the Jews to decide to end their millennia long pissing contest.  The Greek economy had collapsed I think in May this year, and when this shit started, the youth revolted again there, causing more riots, causing more death and destruction.  Mainland Europe was a disaster fairly quickly as I recall hearing.  There were even sketchy reports that North Korea had a civil war break out right at the last moment.  Fucked up shit.  Some areas fared better than others, but it was all bad before the radio died.

                This thing that’s happening turned on every possible panic button you can imagine.  The news had stories of people killing in the grocery stores, trying to get food and such.  The government lost control quickly here, and it all fell down to might makes right.  If you could protect it, it was yours.  The military was trying to secure their own bases and government centers, and with so many police hurt or killed, law and order became just an old tv show, as opposed to reality.

                Man I’m tired.  Talking about this depresses me.  I have more to say to though.  Maybe I’ll put an entry in tomorrow too.  There’s more to say about the first week that shit went down.

 

                -Adrian

 

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