2000
Location: Apartment 0
Reflections: The only way to overcome panic is by getting used to being in life or death situations. Or...just death.
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The
internet services died the day before yesterday. I guess my log entries
will have to be offline from now on. Next will be the power, my
obsession. I would probably have enough water to last me til I die,
considering that a full water tank is supposed to be able to serve 20
floors' worth of apartment units for at least a day's usage.
The
previous few days were spent recuperating from my outing and in
thought. I had my feline companion for company and leisure, and packed a
getaway bag with emergency rations that could last me for at least a
day. The days are running together now, and I'm only staying in sync
thanks to the calender of my tablet/computer.
In this entry, I will endeavour to compress my findings and my plans that led to today's foray into the open.
- Unlike Hollywood films, the zombies appear to feel pain and can be incapacitated by it. I hypothesise that this is due to the rabies vaccine virus that integrate into the brain of its victims. This led them to be more animalistic and aggressive, lacking higher brain functions like logic and thought. Essentially, we would be dealing with wild beasts in the form of humans.
- The zombies appear to also be cannibals. I have seen them feast upon one of their fallen kin. This does make sense, as they would have ran out of food when they ran out of healthy humans. Funny how this was never touched on in Hollywood films.
- I have ammunition, but not the means of firing them. This needs to be remedied
- I have zombies loose on at least one of the floors in my complex. It remains to be seen if they are illogical enough to jump off the corridors when they start to starve.
I decided that
increased care must be exercised on my outings now, in case any suicidal
zombies managed to survive the jump. Guns will also be a new priority.
If I could get enough of those and ammunition, I could start clearing
the complex. After all, it was not really practical to take on an
unknown amount of Problems with just a golf club, no matter the size of
the golf ball.
An
outline of a plan of attack was formed. Unlike America, Malaysia is
(was) not a country that had rampant gun use. As far as I remember,
only bank and jewellery store security guards as well as police officers
had been seen carrying guns. And the army, of course. As the only army
barracks I know was located way down in Johor, I would have to content
myself with raiding banks and police stations for armaments.
I
dressed myself up in my usual protective equipment and ensured I had
the crowbar and cutter with me for breaking and entering. Before
leaving, I once again checked all entry points to 14 before descending
to the parking lot and driving off in my nifty new ride.
Taking
on a familiar place was the best course of action, so naturally I drove
back to The Mines again. It was getting to be an almost casual
"grocery" run, or so it feels. In fact, I did stop by Giant to grab some
supplies and depositing those back in the car. The primary objective,
though, was the bank. No luck. The shutters were drawn, and after I
broke in, the place was deserted. I guess they didn't see fit to leave a
guard here. Jewellery stores were similarly abandoned.
It
was not something unexpected, but I had to try. Next, I made my way to
the police station in Seri Kembangan. The place was overgrown. Even when
things were less Problematic, this particular branch had a haunted feel
about it. I parked at a surreptitious distance away and started playing
music with the horn, seeking any reactions. None came.
Exiting
the vehicle, I crept towards the station, cursing myself for not
wearing jeans as the grass cut into my exposed calves. I had thought my
cargo shorts with the extra pockets would have been the better choice.
Probably a good idea to have alternative clothing stored in the MPV for
future trips. The police station itself was small, merely 2 storeys
high, but split into multiple blocks, including the staff quarters. I
made my way into the main office; the doors were not locked. The ceiling
fan was still squeaking away, an incongruous break in the silence.
There
were nobody and no bodies to be found. I ransacked the desks and failed
to find any guns. Next, I climbed up the stairs and nearly shat my
pants when some rodents ran over my feet. For safety, I took off my
helmet and used the mirrors to look around the corner of the stair way
before popping in: it was one of those stairways with a wall on one side
for the railing, preventing me from looking across the room.
Mercifully, it seemed empty.
I
put my helmet back on and crept on. It was still abandoned,
workstations were left in the state of whatever it was the police were
working on was left halfway when they left their posts. There was an
empty gun rack hugging the wall. Hmmm.
My
courage tried to quail at the thought of exploring further, but I was
determined to find some guns, so I pushed on. I went to the next
building: it appeared to be some sort of storage or maintenance area.
Even in the almost noon sun, it was dark. I would have to find the light
switch. Note to self: bring torches in the future.
Police
bikes were arranged none too neatly in the building. Spare uniforms and
other items were strewn around. I found one item of use here: a riot
shield. Pleased at my find, I strapped it onto my right arm and left the
building. The last one left to explore would be the barracks or
quarters.
I
found the missing police officers, or what was left of them. Dead
bodies laid strewn over the corridor of the quarters. Not all the bodies
were in uniform, and those which were in uniform numbered less than
half a dozen. I surmised that some escaped or were infected and had left
the site already. Who knows what really happened?
I
made like a grave robber and started going through the dead policemen's
bodies. I found only 2 service revolvers from 5 bodies, which I
pocketed. Strange, but perhaps the survivors made off with the guns.
Their gun belts had elastic bands with carefully spaced intervals to
store spare bullets. I managed to scavenge a grand total of 10 bullets
from the bodies. Guess ammunition will be short.
Ridding
the cleanest of the bodies of his gun belt, bless his soul, I hurriedly
returned to my vehicle. I supposed I should consider myself lucky that
most Malaysian police use revolvers. They are relatively brainless to
use, just press the button to "open" the gun, and load the chambers. I
checked both guns, one was empty and the other had only a shot left. It
would seem that the bullet holders on the gunbelt turned out to be
unnecessary. I loaded both up. This gives me 11 shots to play with.
One
of the things I love about having a big-assed MPV is that I can afford
to idle and adjust my clothing in the safety of my car instead of out in
the open. I managed to to get the gun belt on and stuck the half-loaded
pistol into the holster. Being left-handed it took me a bit of finesse
to figure out how to adjust the holster for a left-hand draw. I
practiced drawing the pistol in the confines of the car and it took me a
while to master just pointing the gun.
With
the surroundings still clear, I stepped out of the Vellfire and
practiced a draw and aimed at a tree in the Weaver stance (gotta love
Tom Clancy AND Hollywood). I cocked the pistol and depressed the
trigger. To say that I was unprepared was an understatement. My arms
flew up and I back a half-step before fighting against a stumble. Whoa!
It was also louder than expected. I would not like to fire a gun in
enclosed places if I could help it.
Well,
at least I hit the tree. I grinned pridefully to myself; never mind the
fact it was nigh impossible to miss a 2 ft-wide tree trunk from a
distance of a few meters.
I
uncocked the gun, got back in the car and exchanged the pistol for the
fully loaded one into my holster. The one I just fired was a little warm
around the barrel so I waited before stuffing it into my pocket.
I
had a gun! I was giddy with happiness, like a kid with a new toy.
Which, in a way, I was. What is needed now is more ammunition, and a
shotgun.
My
adventure at the police station had taken a few hours off the day.
Creeping around was not as easy or as fast as it sounds. My next stop
was the police station at Sri Serdang, near my previous stop. This was a
small station, and I had not much hopes for the place.
The
Sri Serdang police station was a single "house" in an open area. I
parked right in front of the entrance and blared my horn and kept my
attention via the windows for any movement from within. Seeing nothing, I
got out and tried to get in. The doors were locked, a quick pry with
the crowbar fixed that and I carefully stepped in. It was brightly lit,
with the lights and AC still on, but I could not see much through the
windows earlier so I had to be careful still.
It
was remarkably organised in here. It was easy to see that the staff had
plenty of time to lock up and leave, as opposed to the previous
station. However, this probably also meant they stored any armaments
away safely. Nevertheless, I went through everything meticulously.
I
was close to giving up when I stumbled across a sturdy looking locker.
Excitement mounting, I tried to get it open with my crow bar and
succeeded in only making a dent. Obviously, the locker was reinforced. I
was standing there, leaning against the wall and panting, when I heard
the door swing open. I tip-toed towards the corridor and hung one of my
side mirrors out the corner. Two zombies had entered the station, both
facing away from me.
Fuck.
I
must have alerted them to my presence when I honked at the station. I
had failed to pay attention to the surrounding vicinity and only focused
on the police station. Damn. The two zombies walked in a weird crouched
posture, sniffing the air in a manner reminiscent of monkeys.
Swallowing
nervously, I hefted my newly-acquired riot shield on my right arm and held my
golf club in my right hand. I drew the pistol, cocked it and stepped out
from the corner, aimed and fired at the nearer zombie. The shots were
deafening, and after the first shot I was pretty sure I was not aiming
at anything that mattered.
The
first zombie went down, I emptied my 6-shooter and the second zombie
was on me before I snapped out of my shooting-haze. Luckily I had held
my riot shield at the ready and the creature just rammed right into it,
slamming my back against the wall. I dropped the pistol and switched the
club to my left hand. Medieval features were useful, as I shield bashed
the zombie away from me and proceeded to attack it with the golf club.
In
my panic, most of my strikes were ineffective. The second zombie had
recovered and only the narrow confines of the corridor saved me. I got
backed towards the other end of the L-shaped corridor and frantically
let myself in through a door and slammed it shut.
The
flimsy wooden door shuddered from the impact of the zombies running
into it. There was a rectangular plastic screen above the knob and I
could see their demented faces screaming at me as they rained blows
upon the door. From the way it was rattling, I had minutes at most.
I
retrieved the remaining pistol from my pocket and carefully took aim
via the view-screen, and shot one of them through the mouth. It dropped
out of sight and I got the next one through the eye with careful aiming.
That too, dropped out of sight.
Breathing
hard, I stood in the room for a long time, waiting for the zombies to
resume their assault. When none came, I finally realised that I had got
them. The room I was in was a pantry of some sort. I helped myself to
some water and finally braved the door. Easing it open, I saw both
zombies lying bonelessly on the floor. One had a shot in the shoulder.
That must have been from my first shot. The pain had only temporarily
taken it out of the fight.
I
staggered over their bodies and tried to pry open the cabinet again. My
brain was obviously overloaded and it did not even cross my mind that I
should check the outside for more zombies. I managed to get the locker
open with some more prying with the crowbar and some frustrated swings
of the golf club. A gap big enough for me to insert my hand to jiggle
the mechanisms within allowed me access to the locker proper.
I
nearly wept with joy at my find inside. There was not much left,
evidently the officers had emptied the storage locker of guns. However,
they had left a spare gun belt and a lot of bullets at the bottom of the
locker. It seems one of the boxes had burst open and they could not be
bothered to carry the loose bullets. The box was clearly unusable so I
filled the pockets of my backpack with the bullets. The spare belt
went in as well. There must had been at least a hundred. I guess
Malaysian police must be sloppy cos the box was hardly enough to keep
all the loose bullets I had collected. I also picked up the pistol I had
dropped earlier and pocketed it, the other one being in the holster
instead.
I
left the police station with my spoils and only then did it hit me I
had not surveyed the perimeter. Fortunately for me, those two were the
only zombies around the area.
Clambering
into my ride, I got home safely, richer in both material and
experience. I had enough ammunition to justify shooting some as
practice, and I had a huge shield to complement my club. I just needed
to refine my fighting skills.
More projects to work on as I while the time away waiting for the end.
End log.
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