Adrian's Undead Diary Enter the World of AUD

Interesting ... Bourne Identity + AUD = ?
 

A paragraph should be like a lady's skirt: long enough to cover the essentials but short enough to keep it interesting.

I like this , please post more.. like mud says Bourne + AUD ... and that can't be a bad thing.. 

Thanks guys, glad you're enjoying it! 

Day 4, 7pm

I found Montford, or at least what’s left of it. I’ve gone up in the world too, I’m in a nice isolated little farmhouse about a mile from my barn.

After using up nearly a tenth of my ammo in 5 minutes I’m being conservative until I find more, I saw about eight zombies in the countryside today but kept my distance and none of them bothered me. I found the farmhouse this morning and gave it the once over. After I nearly died getting out of the hotel I was a lot more careful, circling the house at a distance and looking through my binoculars. No movement so I went in, leaving my pack in the trees and only taking hatchet and rifle. The farmhouse was empty but had been stripped of any food, tools or weapons - I didn’t see a car so maybe the owners took flight, or maybe they never made it home and their place got turned over a while after. I can hold off against a few zombies and I’ve got a full water butt in the garden - I’d have loved to stay there for the day but my food supplies were running pretty low so I headed out again. A signpost a few hundred meters down the road pointed me to the village.

I’d had no real idea how big Montford was, I suspected a small town. What I got was a tiny L-shaped hamlet nestled round a bend in the road. At some point someone had built a petrol station right on the corner, which had exploded. I have no idea why but the entire centre of the village was a charred ruin, the fire had spread through the terraced houses and burnt most of them to the ground. I counted 10 totally destroyed, four badly damaged and only three untouched, with plenty of zombies ambling around, many of them looking pretty charred. I could make out over a dozen just in the street, and there’s probably a lot more in the buildings and hidden in the rubble just waiting to nip my ankles. There were a serious amount of bodies lying about in the road too, I really hope they were zombies and not living when the place went up.

I did a full circuit of the village and saw something pretty interesting. A pretty intact house closest to the centre was boarded up and barricaded with a large army truck parked in the driveway. Like everything else in the village it was smashed up and covered in soot from the fire, and the house looked deserted. The most interesting bit – a ladder nailed from the upstairs window down into the back garden. This is a survivors house and there’s probably something useful in there, whoever lived there is either long gone or doing a good job of hiding. It was getting late so I decided to head back, there’s far more dead in the village than I hoped and I need some time to think things over. For all I know it could have been me who lived there, or who left a cache of food nearby just sitting out of my reach because of this damn amnesia. As frustrating as that is whatever I did before is useless to me now; I have a new life to carve out from square one.

 I have a choice here, stay somewhere safe with no food or go somewhere filled with more dead than I can fight off and only the scarce possibility of food. I think my rumbling stomach has made the decision for me.

God, you're such a tease, little bits here and there. Great story though.

Life, Death.....I am the difference

This one's a biggie, our survivor finally sees some action:

Day 6, 9pm

I’m knackered, these past two days have been incredibly draining.

I ate the last of my food and hit the Montford house yesterday morning, crept down into the back garden and straight off got jumped by two zombies in the shrubbery. The first one got an axe to the face nice and quick but the second was a bit too sprightly for my liking and I didn’t have time to pull it back out before he got close. I was itching to shoot him but I really wanted to do this quietly, with that many zombies around one shot wouldn’t be good for my life expectancy. I ran back to the back of the garden and he followed, going at a pace a little faster than a walk. It’s the fastest I’ve seen one move and it was quite unnerving, he looked fresher than the others and probably had more muscle mass left. My salvation came in the form of a rusty spade propped up against the shed, I hefted it up and smashed it into the top of his forehead. The longer handle gave me leverage and it sliced him up good and proper, it felt good to swing something long and heavy after the little hatchet. Further away means less zombie gunk splatter on my face, which is a massive plus.

I made straight for the ladder and hauled up to the window. I was terrified of taking a bullet to the face as soon as I peeked over but the room was empty, with the window propped open a crack so it could be pushed up from outside. I clambered in and cleared the upstairs room by room, gun up and ready. Nothing living or dead, but there was a shitload of goodies. Food! Crates of it! I sat right down on the spot and ate a whole tin of fruit in about ten seconds. There were tools, fuel, radio equipment, survival gear, clothes and a semi-automatic shotgun with a whole box of ammo. It felt like Christmas morning, if Santa were dead and carrying a sack full of brains.

My mood got a bit dimmed when I found the note on the bed:

My name is Jack Brennan. If you are reading this I am probably dead.

I came here from Lintin in January, I raided every house in the local area for supplies and secured the house but the dead all came at once and now I’m trapped. The truck has broken down and I can’t fix it. I can hear them beating on the walls and it’s driving me mad. I don’t know where they all came from but there must be hundreds.

I have to get out. I’m going to try and lure them to the petrol station and set them on fire, it’s the only way I can think of. It probably won’t work but at least I’ll have died doing something.

I love you Susan.

I took a minute to think of Jack and thank him for leaving me all this stuff. Through his efforts, I can maybe live a little longer.

At this point, of course, everything went to shit.

I walked over to the stairs, which Jack had broken away to keep the dead back. There was another ladder propped up against the wall, I leant for it, and the fucking floor gave way.

I went straight down in an avalanche of rotted wood, crashing into the pile of debris at the bottom. I smashed my right side and face straight into a massive chuck of wood and got hit hard by the ladder which had followed me down. It hurt like a motherfucker and I yelled out pretty loud, I was still groaning and trying to get the ladder off me when two damn zombies walked in the front door. That gave me all the strength I needed and more, I chucked the ladder off and grabbed my rifle. By the time I got it round they were six yards away, no time to get up so I shot the first one from prone and smeared his grey matter across the ceiling. The second took two shots, nerves sending the first spiralling over her shoulder. I dropped my head into the hard wood and breathed a deep sigh of relief, my heart doing backflips in my chest.

It took me a minute to remember how many zombies were outside and realise I’d just rung the dinner bell.

At this point, I snapped. I was battered, bruised and lying in a pile of crap with every zombie in the village steadily and hungrily heading towards me, all because I trod on the wrong plank. I had been running and hiding like a frightened rabbit for five days, living off whatever I can scrape and steal. And most of all I had spent every minute of my life I can remember having absolutely no fucking clue what is going on.

Hauled myself up, which hurt like hell and only made me angrier. Ladder against the second floor and up I went, swearing all the way as my pelvis screamed at me. Grabbed Jacks shotgun, ripped open the box of ammo and filled my pockets, shells spilled out onto the floor but I didn’t care. The rest went in an empty backpack and I marched back to the ladder, cursing the sky blue at the top of my voice. I was done with silence, done with hiding, done with being prey. The first zombies had got to the ladder. I clicked off the safety, put the bead right between its eyes and fired.

It was devastating. The head just evaporated, the string of shot going straight through and ripping apart the chest of the zombie behind. I put two more shells into the rest of them, reloaded and climbed down the ladder. In hindsight I could have stayed up there and picked them off at leisure, but there and then I was king of the world and felt like reigning. I went down the hallway quickly, blowing five more to pieces before I got to the front door. I kept a round in the chamber and reloaded after two so I could just push them into the bottom, nice and quick and I wouldn’t be caught short while reloading. The adrenaline was pumping and I ran out onto the street, every zombie in the village was coming for me now and I was coming for them.

It took me half an hour to clear the village. I kept moving and made sure I was never surrounded, keeping up constant fire at the closest dead. They came as stragglers at first but after them was a big group of crispy ones from near the petrol station, I would let them get near me then run back a bit, thin the group, run back, and repeat. As they moved all the zombies who got close joined the group, I led them on a full circuit of the village before I’d put them all down. About halfway through the thrill wore off but I didn’t stop firing until the street was still. From counting the shells later on I must have killed over 70, not including the ones I crippled and put down with the hatchet later. My ears are still ringing and my shoulder hurts like hell. I sat in the street for what seemed like hours, just staring at the destruction.

Happy New Year!

More please?

...

Happy new year everyone! Our survivor takes stock of a few things.

Day 9, 5pm

Big news first – this morning I saw a vapour trail from a plane. I didn’t see the plane but from the size of the trail it was reasonably sized, heading NE. This means there’s (at least) one working airfield out there still manned, capable of maintaining and flying aircraft. It’s an encouraging thought, but I have no idea who these people are and I’m not sure I want to go seeking them out. I’ll keep my eyes open for more planes. Jack left a crank powered radio behind, but so far I’ve heard no traffic.

The last couples of days have been spent housekeeping. I boarded up the lower windows of the farmhouse and did an inventory of my new stuff – the main things of note are the radio, food for about 2 weeks and 150 shells for the shotgun. There’s quite a lot of general survival and everyday stuff I can’t be bothered detailing like tools and gadgets, anything I’ve already got or didn’t need I left under a tarp in my first supply dump outside the village. What I thought was a big patch of weeds behind the house is actually an overgrown vegetable garden, I have no real idea how to garden but I got rid of most of the weeds yesterday. A lot of the food has spoiled over the winter but the root vegetables are still in reasonable shape, I’m cooking some carrots up for dinner tonight. I’m using the fireplace in the kitchen – nobody should see the light through the boarded windows and I only try and light it at night so the smoke won’t show.

I have a map! Of sorts, anyway. The scale is too large, it covers several hundred square miles and so won’t be any good for day to day navigation. It took me ages to find a place name I recognised, the place called Lintin that Jack’s letter mentioned. About 15 miles due east of it was a little dot and ‘Montfd’ in red pen, cheers Jack. It feels good to know where I am and have a fix on things.

To the east and south is an area of hills and forest, with a city on the other side about 150 miles away. There are a few tiny village dots but the area is mostly deserted. There’s a city about 60 miles SW on a coastline, a major road heads north up the coastline the length of the map to another city 100 miles north. Lintin is one of several towns near the road; it’s a medium sized town on a river close to where it joins the sea. To the far south is a more densely populated area, which I will definitely avoid. If I want to go to a town Lintin is the closest place and looks the most attractive, but I’m still undecided.

Whatever happens, I need a vehicle. I want to be able to move faster and carry more stuff so I can scout and get supplies, as well as having a getaway car if I’m attacked. Tomorrow I’m heading to a small cottage I saw while I was going to and fro from Montford, hopefully there’ll be some stuff of use there.

Day 12, 6pm

Reasonably uneventful few days. Had some really heavy rain today and on day 10 which kept me inside. The house is still nice and watertight but it’s cold, I lit the fire in the day but kept it low to minimise the smoke. Hopefully the rain will have stopped anyone seeing. Incidentally, I wish I knew what day of the week it was. Saying ‘Day whatever’ is a bit tedious. I made it out today for an hour and shot a rabbit, I have no idea how to skin and gut it so I’m writing to procrastinate.

Yesterday I headed over to the cottage I mentioned. The ground was pretty waterlogged but my boots are good ones and kept me dry. The mud on the paths is fresh and I kept an eye on it for tracks, I don’t know what a lot of the animal ones are but there seems to be lots of small animals around. Anything that can fly or hide from zombies must be having a great time of it. I saw one set of human prints, from the stumbling gait and patches where it’d fallen I guessed a zombie. It moved along the path for a fair distance and I moved off before I saw it, which made me a bit curious about what it was following so diligently. I have bigger mysteries to worry about I suppose.

The cottage was an attractive bungalow midway up a gravel track. The windows had been boarded up but the place had an abandoned look to it, I had to push through knee high weeds to reach the door. It was open and I went inside cautiously, shotgun and axe ready, but relaxed when I saw mice running across the floor and a nest of birds sat on a bookcase. Where there’s nature, there are no zombies (or perhaps that should be the other way around). The house had been stripped bare of pretty much all survival-related items and food, presumably it all went to Jack’s stockpile and is now in mine. A vegetable garden out the back had been dug up and eaten long ago. All the general household bits had been left but under the stairs I found a neatly stacked pile of empty picture frames. The more time passes the more alone I feel, these people took the memories of their life with them and now I hide amongst their empty homes like the mice and birds, with no purpose other than survival. The last couple of days it’s started to get to me, I’m trying to keep myself busy so I don’t have time to think.

There’s a car in the garage. It’s a bog-standard 3-door, a few years old and in reasonable shape. I tried to start it but I think the battery is dead, I also have no idea if there’s fuel in it or if it’s still good. One of the tires has gone down but there’s a spare in the boot. I have a sealed 5 gallon drum of petrol in my stockpile by Montford that Jack marked as ‘treated’ and so will probably still be usable, but what I don’t have is a new battery or a working car to jump start from.

After I left the house I climbed a large hill nearby and did a 360 scan from the top. I can see right down into Montford, which now has quite a lot of dead walking around. I’ve seen almost no zombies and haven’t had to fight one for days, guess that’s where they all are now. I can see one other largeish house from the hill, which has a garage and so therefore maybe another possible car.

So, to do list:

• Explore the house
• Grab the fuel from the village
• Find a battery
• STILL bloody need a good map
• Don’t get eaten

But first things first, get covered in rabbit guts so I can have some dinner. Laters.

Good stuff here Preasure, I look forward to reading more.

Day 13, 8pm

Unlucky 13 today.

When I got up there was a zombie outside my house, trying to push through the gate to the road. I had to go out and chop her with the shovel, which put me right off my breakfast. This is the first zombie that’s found me, I wonder if she followed me from my hunting trip yesterday?

I dragged the body out of sight and headed over to todays target, the house I saw from the hill. It’s a big three storey with a double garage, high wall and electric gates, very ostentatious. I bet the locals in their quaint cottages hated it. I knew it wasn’t going to be fun when I saw the car crashed into the partly open gates. The inside was filled with dried blood, the passenger was stuck inside by his seatbelt and lunged at me with broken hands as I walked past. A gold watch was still visible under the gore. The garage was open and two expensive looking cars were in the drive, one had reversed off the drive into trees and looked well and truly stuck. Someone had emptied a weapon into the other one, I could see at least three bodies still sat in their shredded seats. At this point zombies started coming out of the house and appearing from amongst the smashed cars. I counted 6, but after my anger management session a few days ago that hardly seemed like anything. I flicked off the safety on the shotgun and got ready to rumble.

I went in aggressively, taking out the first pair quickly and reloading as I moved. I took another two shots as I moved towards the wrecked car, but when I came around it one that had been lying on the floor grabbed my ankle. I hadn’t seen him and had my hands in my pockets going for ammo, I tried to pull away but he sank his teeth into the side of my boot. They can bite down hard, it didn’t break the leather but it was enough to knock me off guard. I kicked him as hard as I could in the temple and felt the skull give under my boot as he went limp. My hand was starting to shake as I reloaded but I managed to drop the last two and ran up the steps to the big door, which was open. The place was an absolute wreck, bodies and smashed furniture lay everywhere. Lots of zombies too, coming out of every room and down the stairs. I went to make a stand by the doors but out of the corner of my eye I saw something small come at me out of a side room and before I knew it it’d grabbed my leg. It was a little girl, her oversized winter jacket stained brown with dried blood from the bite on her neck, and she snapped her teeth into the top of my trousers.

I shat myself. Actual raw ‘I’m dead’ terror. I grabbed her and threw her small body away, blowing her to bits with the shotgun. I ran straight outside in a blind panic, thankfully I had the presence of mind to pull the door shut behind me. I heard the dead inside thump against it as I pulled my trousers down to see how it looked. Thank fuck she’d hit the pocket full of shotgun shells, it had been torn open but my skin was unbroken. I’m still shaking from it, I’ll have nightmares tonight I’m sure of it.

Hell nor high water wouldn’t have got me to go back in that house. I’d barely made it in the door and I’d already been almost bitten twice, no way I can handle three stories of confined spaces filled with undead. The door opened inwards and was holding them back but I didn’t know how long it would hold, but as I made to head home I noticed the garage. I ran over for a quick look, and lo and behold there was car jump kit on a shelf. I went to do a full search but the crunch of breaking wood from the house made me think twice, I wanted out of there so I grabbed the kit and legged it. The dead passenger in the car lunged and growled at me as I ran past.

Next entry, our survivor has the most significant day yet.

Day 14, 10pm

Today was... a milestone.

I met another survivor.

About 11am this morning I went outside to dig some vegetables up. Next thing I know there’s a man standing in my garden with a big smile on his face wishing me good morning. 

I was at a complete loss. I must have looked like a right plonker, just gawping at him. Despite me slack-jawed reaction his smile didn’t falter and I managed to say hello. My voice was cracked and it felt odd, apart from the occasional profanity I haven’t really spoken in at least two weeks. He said his name was Al, that he didn’t mean any harm and just wanted to talk and trade. He was a tall man, late middle age, with long black hair and beard, wearing a heavy camouflage jacket. I suppose if he meant me ill he would have just shot me from the woods with the big silenced hunting rifle he was carrying. Of course I had no idea what name to give him and telling the truth didn’t feel like an option, so I went for the first name I could think of and the letter on that key rose straight into my mind.

“Pete” I said. I guess that’s who I am now.

The conversation started to flow and we both loosened up a bit. He told me that when the outbreak started he moved up here from the city and had been living off the land. I was itching for information about the outbreak and how it started but I’m not saying anything until I work my story out. For the moment I just told him my safehouse a few miles north had been overrun and I’d made it here on foot, he didn’t press the issue any more. We talked a bit about Montford, he congratulated me on clearing the village and gave me a quick history of the area. Incidentally, he said he’s also lost track of the exact date, but it’s late April.

When the outbreak started a lot of the local residents were already in town in Lintin, or went there for supplies or the hospital. A few bitten people came back, turned and infected the remaining villagers over a few days. A lot of people in the isolated houses either got bitten, starved or committed suicide and after a month there was only Al, a young family on the other side of the valley (probably the house with my car) and the three-storey full of ‘flash city boys’ and their families. They fell from an inside infection in November, the young family left just before Jack arrived in January. Jack’s note was spot on about what happened to him. I feel for Al, he’s been alone for a long time and I can’t blame him for wanting someone to talk to. Which leads me onto how he found me – followed my damn tracks in the mud from the other day right to my front door. He said he’d been (and apologised for) sitting on a hilltop watching my house through his scope for a day and a half. I had no idea anyone else was even here and he could have blown my brains out a thousand times over. What a fantastic survivor I am.

After an hour of talking outside I invited him in, his total unwillingness to shoot the fat fish in a tiny barrel that was myself made me pretty trusting. Similarly, I think he got good vibes from me, or at least realised that before I stabbed him in the back I’d have to take time to sort out my arse from my elbow. He produced a rabbit from under that huge coat of his, I grabbed some more veg and we cooked up a stew together. It was... nice, which isn’t something that happens a lot these days I imagine. We seem pretty similar in personality, he’s more cautious than I am but I can’t say I blame him. I had to make up a few things during our conversation but if it showed he didn’t mention it, he hasn’t told me where he lived or about his family so there’s still some way to go. I told him I used to work in an office and that I was a bachelor. It’s nondescript enough to pass for the moment but if we keep in contact he’s going to start asking more. I gave him my box of 20 9mm rounds and he traded me a set of water purification tablets and a pack of batteries, and he headed off mid afternoon. In two days we’re meeting up again on the big hill for another trade, he says he might be able to get me a map.

I’m excited, but this is a can of worms I wasn’t expecting to open so soon. I’m annoyed with myself too about my total inability to hide, I’ll be keeping an eye on the hills from now on. Guess I’ll just have to see how this turns out.

Keep going with this, the intrigue keeps rising for me.

Day 16, 6pm

Saw the plane again this morning. I managed to catch it while it was still moving, about 9am as I was out getting water. I grabbed the binoculars and took a good look, it was pretty high up but it was dark green or grey, quite a large size with four engines. It was on the exact same course as the first one, and given that was exactly a week ago this is probably a routine flight between two bases, probably military. I asked Al about it and he says he’s seen it pretty regularly too.

I had another crack at the car yesterday. Just my luck, the jumper kit is broken or out of charge. The guys in the big house (who I’m swiftly developing a dislike to) probably thought it just kept a charge forever. I did manage to clean the car and engine up a bit and change the tyre, so it’s ready to go as soon as I can get it started. Sod’s law says when I do the driveshaft will snap or something like that. I found an old book on ‘Maintaining Your Automobile’ in the garage and I’m reading through it for some light education. The illustrations all look very dated, with men in flashy clothes and giant hair polishing those horrible boxy 80’s things. Someone, I bet the son of the owner, has drawn mustaches on every single one that get more and more elaborate as I read on. Hope that lad’s still going out there.

So I met Al yesterday for tea and biscuits. That’s actually true, he rocked up with a thermos and a slightly crushed pack of digestives. He’s been alone for a year and not eaten them? The man has iron self control. We sat on the side of the hill in the sunshine and chatted for an hour or so, steadily demolishing the biscuits. I’m feeling guilty that he keeps feeding me, but my supplies are a little low to be handing out snacks. I have nothing really of value to trade but I gave him a nice multitool I found in Jack’s stuff, and glory be he gave me a map. He’d drawn it himself from a larger map he had at home, tracing through onto an A3 piece of paper. It must have taken ages, and he’d include little labels to mark local landmarks and details like condition of the roads. I couldn’t thank him enough but he just said it was his pleasure to help out in hard times and wouldn’t hear any more of it.

I did, however, have an idea for how I could repay him. That big house is way too much effort for one person to clear out, hence why me, him and Jack all didn’t bother. But two of us could probably manage it, if we were careful. I told him that we’d split the loot 60:40 in his favour, I really need to find more food around here and my ammunition will soon run low if I get into a situation. He thought about it for a while and then agreed in principle, but said he still wanted to sleep on it. We said our goodbyes soon afterwards, it’s just occurred to me but I completely forgot to ask if he has a car. Oh well, we should see each other soon enough.

Al didn’t mark his house on the map. Either he’s scared of me, or he’s hiding something.

Day 17, 8pm

We knocked over the big house today. It was definitely worth it.

Al showed up as I was finishing my breakfast, said that he’d thought about it and that we should do it as soon as possible. We went right there and then, I took the shotgun and hatchet and a big bag for anything we found. Al had his big rifle as always, with the longest knife I’ve ever seen (not much for comparison I know, but it was pretty big) as his melee. It’s really slender, for stabbing through skulls he says. Rather him than me. As we walked over he produced two handguns, both 9mm, and gave one to me for once we were inside and the long guns wouldn’t be any use. The guy in the car was still sat there lunging at us, but Al gave him a quick stab and he went limp. I was surprised at how brutally fast and strong he was, I guess he’s put down a lot of dead with that blade.

Al propped his rifle on the roof of the car and covered me while I closed on the house. I ran up the side of the hedge, keeping out of his line of fire. I was still a little nervous, but if he wanted to shoot me in the back he’d have done it a long time ago. The doors had been broken open and the dead I’d trapped were milling about on the porch. I heard Al start firing as I headed closer. The silencer made the shot sound like a car door slamming, loud enough for the dead to hear it and start moving towards us. He dropped four before I got close enough and opened up with the shotgun.

That made them sit up and take notice. The dead started pouring out of the house in a stream and we put them down with steady fire. After a few minutes the flow stopped, our total count was about 30. Including the bodies from my pervious escapade, that’s an awful lot in one house. Al thinks most of the horde that originally sacked Montford ended up here while the village was deserted, and the house was pretty full of refugees to start with.

We switched to pistols and got ready to go in. Al took off his massive coat, which I didn’t think he ever did, and left it outside. He’d got some old phone books and strapped them over his arms and torso, when I stopped laughing he told me they could actually stop a bite. He still looked ridiculous, and I don’t see him offering me a share of his armour, so I kept teasing him as we moved in. The little girl’s body was still lying on the floor (and on some of the walls) where I’d left it, I scooped up some of the shells I’d dropped when she bit off my pocket. All the doors on the ground floor were open and we didn’t have any trouble clearing it - we would go in together, each taking one side of the room – and only had a couple of crawling dead to deal with. With our rear taken care of, we headed up the stairs.

Halfway up there was a large barricade of furniture with a heap of almost skeletal bodies in front. The doubly dead don’t really rot or get eaten, they just sort of dry out and erode to a pile of bones and black stringy bits. They stink even worse than the walking ones, and fell apart was we tried to move them. The barricade was holding back five undead who we put down with pistols, I took a few shots to get used to aiming and the recoil but I picked it up quick. Two of them were young and Al took them out first, for which I was silently grateful. We hopped over the barricade and started clearing, kicking in the doors them jumping back to open fire. We took down another ten and found a lot more bodies, some of them suicides, some just... eaten to death. I don’t want to imagine the house being overrun, the people in the wrecked cars outside trying to flee as those inside were pushed back to the bedrooms for a dozen hopeless last stands or a final bullet as the dead hammered on the door. As our shots echoed around the devastation and the tang of gunsmoke cut through the ubiquitous musk of death I could almost hear the screams.

It was on the third floor things went a little wrong. The first room we breached had a body on the bed, just a heap of bones in a mass of dark brown blood. I think it was a woman, if only from the long hair matted into the gore. As I finished my side I heard Al say my name, very quietly. He’d gone pale and his eyes were filled with horror. Thick ropes ran from each limb to the bedposts. When I looked back the horror was gone and there was only fury, I reached out but he was already storming out of the room. I don’t know why it made him so angry, or what he thought killing the bodies of the bastards who’d tied her up would do, but he let out an animal bellow and booted down the nearest door. He shot the first zombie point plank but without covering fire two others were straight on him. I ran to help but before I could get a shot another door broke open behind me and a bloody wave of undead poured out. I laid into them thick and fast with the pistol, laying all six out in a big heap in the hallway. I turned round to see Al slam his knife through the temple of the zombie that was gnawing on his forearm, the second already sprawled on the floor with the top of its head missing. Talk about nerve-wracking.

The phonebooks had worked a treat, the dead man had ripped it to shreds and Al’s arm was badly bruised but the skin was unbroken. Our frantic fight had killed the last of the dead and the house was quiet. We took a few minutes to swear and wipe the shit out of our pants, then started grabbing supplies. We took everything of value, loaded it up into wheelbarrows from the garden and pushed it back to mine for splitting up. It took three trips to get everything, I’m too tired to detail it all but I won’t need supplies for a good while. Definitely worth it.

Our survivor updates on the supplies situation after the raid on the big house:

Sunday May 6^th (Day 18).

4pm

Yes, I know the date! I grabbed a calendar from the big house which has phases of the moon on it, and last night was a full moon. This feels good.

Let’s talk supplies. The house had a shedload of tinned food and army rations, most of which are still good. Me and Al split it 50:50 in the end - there’s enough for me for a month at least if I supplement it with food from the garden and hunting. I got some survival books and DIY manuals which are drying out in front of the fire, as well as some nice outdoor clothes. Al says he’s pretty well stocked but he took a load of tools and electrical equipment, more on that in a bit.

Guns and ammo was the major haul. I got a hundred rounds of .30 for my rifle (Al says it’s too short to be a rifle and I should call it a carbine) and a couple of boxes of shotgun shells. We found a 9mm handgun in a cupboard in perfect condition which is now mine, and over 150 rounds of usable 9mm scattered about the place. Unfortunately a lot of the guns the people had had been used in the fight and had sat covered in blood and exposed to the elements for months. My 9mm was the only gun we found that doesn’t need any work, I’ve got two rusty shotguns and a handgun that I’ll try and clean up when I get a chance. Al took two hunting rifles he says he can get back into condition, along with all the larger calibre ammunition and a few partly knackered pistols. The assorted ammo in various calibres needs sorting out and matching to what guns we have, he’s doing that too.

When he dropped round to get a few bits this morning Al gave me a little present. It’s a top of the range military radio that his brother (a soldier) got for him when the outbreaks started to happen. It has a scan mode that will automatically pick up on any radio traffic in range and a secure frequency that will let me and Al talk without being overheard by anyone on standard radios. I asked how we’d power it and he told me he has electricity (!) from a couple of solar panels. He’s very kindly offered to charge up my batteries whenever I need it, as well as my car jump kit. How good is that?

And how many more cards does that man have up his sleeve?