2000
Location: Apartment 0
Reflections:
Forget everything Hollywood taught you about zombies. This is real life! The only advantage you have is still having a logical mind, and panic removes that conveniently.
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I've spent the last few days working on my golf swing, and just plain recovering from the stress of venturing out. I had been planning to head out for a food raid again soon, but Fate decided to hurry along my trip. Last night, my laptop decided it needed to say goodbye. In order to keep up this log, I need a new laptop. Of course, that's assuming the Internet stayed alive. I have yet to find out anything useful for the Aussies, and they obviously haven't made much progress considering they haven't any way of obtaining samples to work with.
I digress.
The first flaw of my security plan was obvious when I opened the front door. All traces of the powder was missing after a few days' worth of wind. My tension levels immediately rose a notch. Already equipped in my usual gear, I had to step back inside to prepare a fresh supply of talcum. Priorities made me ensure my floor was safe before I made my way out. Everything looked normal on the far end, both stairwell doors were securely closed, powder was still on the knobs. Guess the wind can only do so much. Nevertheless, I dusted both doors generously. The elevators were all stuck on 14. I powdered the corridor around the entrance of my headquarters and all the way to my usual lift lobby. A quick check made sure the door to the stairwell was likewise untouched and re-dusted.
Feeling marginally more confident, I dinged at Ground, and did a long view of the courtyard. All looks quiet, so I sent the elevator back to 14. Familiarity bred contempt, I was able to walk to my car casually as if there was no Problem in the world.
I drove back to the mall I had burglarised previously, for reference's sake it was The Mines.Turning my alert mode back on, once again I blared the horn and waited. Nothing. It was beginning to feel surreal, the many incident-free forays were enough to make me careless. Mentally chastising myself and reminding myself to be ready for anything, I stepped out of the car, and into the hellhole of decomposition that was once a shopping mall.
Grasping my golf club firmly, I walked the distance and climbed the four floors necessary to reach a popular Computer store. The rear view mirrors did wonders for my frayed nerves. I no longer needed to turn round and round every ten minutes. Progress was fast. Rule #5 was obeyed fully.
The store had its shutters closed. Looking around carefully to ensure no unhappy surprises awaited me, I dug the crowbar from my back pack and pried the store open. It had one of those new lock things that was automatic and didn't require padlocks, which makes it harder to pry open. The noise I generated was cacophanous. It made me nervous all over again. I finally raised the shutters high enough for me to enter without having to leopard crawl my way in, and had another look around for movement. Nothing. Weird, but I wasn't complaining.
I ducked and entered IT paradise. The store was deserted, as far as I could tell. Made sense as the entrances were closed in the first place. Well, I finally got my hands on a Microsoft Surface Pro. It only took a zombie apocalypse to make it happen, but booya! I took two, just in case. Saw some IT magazines on a rack, I took those too. Didn't want to re-tape my newspaper-bracers while in a potentially hostile area. Batteries joined the goodies, and before leaving I forced the shutters down again.
Creeping down five flights of stairs to the Giant hypermarket in the basement, I made use of all the skills I learned while being Snake in first-person shooting games to make sure the coast was clear (no, not Metal Gear). It may sound amusing, but it was not easy! The bodies that littered the way between the stairs (or escalators) and the hypermarket made it impossible to use the wheelchair, so I would have to pick what I want in the wheelchair and find a safe space to transfer everything into my backpack.
Once again, canned foods were the order of the day. Pasta and sauces made it in as well. Power's out in the mall so the stench of rotting food permeated the air. One would think I would had gotten used to that by now. Hardly so. More talcum!
I made it in and out of the mall in record time compared to my previous foray: three hours. Unloading my backpack into the car happily, I caught a flash of movement in my mirrors. I turned around quickly, and lo! I caught sight of someone running from the end of the car park towards me. It was a man, and he was waving at me, probably asking me to wait?
I gave the area a quick look around to spot any potential Problems and saw none, so I shouted at the runner to take it easy, don't trip and fall. He didn't do any of those, just kept running like Forrest Gump.
Again, I told him to slow down, I wasn't going to leave a fellow human being behind. He was 10 yards away when I saw the expression on his face. He wasn't panicking that I was leaving him behind at all. In fact, he was positively snarling at me like I was...a piece of steak.
Holy crap!
I panicked! I locked my car, forgetting I had already unlocked it previously to put my stuff in. I was empty-handed, armed with nothing but my car keys. The runner was nearly onto me when I reacted instinctively. I dropped and side-swept him with my leg, a dirty fighting technique a friend once taught me, about the extent of my fist-fighting knowledge. He fell face first. I sprinted around the car while unlocking it. I drew my golf club from the passenger seat, and saw a face in my right mirror.
Tiger Woods would have been proud of me that day. The club connected perfectly with the giant head-sized golf ball as I sent the zombie(?) flying to the side. The club was bent slightly at an angle. The runner laid there on his back, twitching horribly. His skull was caved in on the right.
I stood there, learning how to breathe. After an unknown period of time I regained my faculties and looked around again to secure my surroundings. No movement. I prodded the corpse gingerly with the golf club, ready for it to spring up. No movement.
I examined the zombie carefully. The undamaged half of his head looked perfectly human. No pallour marked his skin. He looked remarkably...human. I could remember details now that I had not noticed in my panic. He was breathing hard while running towards me. For all intents and purposes, he had seemed alive. Not so now, at least, lying there with the head smashed, with no rise and fall of chest to indicate breathing. Red blood trickled out of an ear. Huh...this was something new. I doubt anybody has reported any close encounter with a zombie as yet, I'll have to check with the Australians.
The adrenaline was leaving me and I was experiencing the shakes. I sat in my car with the doors locked and waited it out. Once I felt stable again, I walked back calmly into The Mines and located a camera store. I smashed the glass "door" open with the golf club and came away with a pair of binoculars. I was not going to run the risk of mistaking a Problem for a regular human again.
.
The journey home was introspective. That creature had caught me unawares. There was none of that jerky-movement, weird moaning noises or abnormal appearance that Hollywood had trained us to look out for. Damn you Hollywood! Also, apparently they do not require decapitation to reduce them to true death. Or so it seemed, at any rate. That zombie recovered way too fast from my side-swipe to have been a shambling idiot. I can see now why a horde was a big Problem for containment earlier on.
Before I knew it, I was nearing home. Finding my brains back in the present, I nearly missed the petrol station, my car needed feeding soon, might as well do it earlier. I circled around the station a few times first before pulling up at a pump. It looked safe. I was triple-scanning the place now and forgetting about Rule #5.
I got out of the car and checked if the petrol station even had power on. Yeap! Mental note to self: Need to shop for power generators soon. Walked into the counter, no corpse, no movement, just blessed air-conditioning. Well, there goes the global warming problem, I guess.
Rummaging around the place, I only found tiny 2L containers for emergency gasoline. Looks like I would have to venture elsewhere to get a larger reserve tank. Got behind the counter and studied the controls, I've never had to "turn on" a pump before, but hey if an imported foreign worker with no education can do it, there was no reason why I couldn't, is there? Bingo! Easy straightforward buttons. Pump number, amount.
I stood there like it was normal, feeding my car, cleaning the windscreen and windows with the courtesy squeegee wiper thing, and filled up five of those tiny 2L hip flasks. Time to return to base (RTB). I've got some new info to upload to the Aussies, after all.
Drove in, parked the car, dash through the courtyard and waited for the lift. I think I was getting a second shot at the shakes. I dinged back on 14th, and willed myself to check all the access points before heading home. HQ was a blessed haven and I indulged myself in some furry therapy as I held my only living company close to me while I shook uncontrollably in the living room.
End log.
Before I knew it, I was nearing home. Finding my brains back in the present, I nearly missed the petrol station, my car needed feeding soon, might as well do it earlier. I circled around the station a few times first before pulling up at a pump. It looked safe. I was triple-scanning the place now and forgetting about Rule #5.
I got out of the car and checked if the petrol station even had power on. Yeap! Mental note to self: Need to shop for power generators soon. Walked into the counter, no corpse, no movement, just blessed air-conditioning. Well, there goes the global warming problem, I guess.
Rummaging around the place, I only found tiny 2L containers for emergency gasoline. Looks like I would have to venture elsewhere to get a larger reserve tank. Got behind the counter and studied the controls, I've never had to "turn on" a pump before, but hey if an imported foreign worker with no education can do it, there was no reason why I couldn't, is there? Bingo! Easy straightforward buttons. Pump number, amount.
I stood there like it was normal, feeding my car, cleaning the windscreen and windows with the courtesy squeegee wiper thing, and filled up five of those tiny 2L hip flasks. Time to return to base (RTB). I've got some new info to upload to the Aussies, after all.
Drove in, parked the car, dash through the courtyard and waited for the lift. I think I was getting a second shot at the shakes. I dinged back on 14th, and willed myself to check all the access points before heading home. HQ was a blessed haven and I indulged myself in some furry therapy as I held my only living company close to me while I shook uncontrollably in the living room.
End log.
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