2000
Location: Apartment 0
Reflections: Sometimes, the fear is mightier than reality. Other times, reality is just as frightening. Imagination can cripple you as much as real nightmares could.
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It rained all day yesterday. All my plans for moving stuff from the store to block off one of the stairwell entrances were invalidated by the pouring rain. I relied on my sense of hearing as one of my key defences, and the downpour ensure I was deprived of that. I reasoned it was better to be safe than sorry.
During the downtime, I reread some of Crazy Zaph's emails to me. In one of them, he had mentioned using something called shims to jam the door. It might have been a Canadian term but I was totally unfamiliar with it. However, the concept is sound, use something to keep the door from opening. It was the perfect solution to my problem of unsecured doors. I just had to grab some door jams, enough to jam 3 x 20 (doors per floor x number of floors) doors. Well, less one door anyway, as my designated exit point.
Today dawned sunny. Hopefully no impromptu tropical storms appear again while I was gallivanting outside. My personal protection equipment went on, and I brought along both my backpack-wheelchair combo and sling bag. It was time to revisit The Mines, the site of my first kill. Trying not to shudder at THAT particular memory, I hung the binoculars over my neck and slung the crowbar and cutter over individual shoulders.
Once again, I secured all points of entry before dinging at Ground. Made my way to the car and was scared out of my wits when a rat ran across the grass beside me. Goddamned rodent! There was little I could do about the grass though. I neither had a grasscutter nor was I at all inclined to be "gardening" at a time like this.
Avoiding all other incidences, I arrived at Mines. The corpse of the zombie I had slain laid where I had left it. At least it was properly dead. I ignored it and entered the shopping mall and made my way to Ace Hardware on Level 2. It still stank of rot, and it was still eerily silent.
The hardware store was laid out tidily, yet I could not seem to find what I had wanted. The door jams available here were all of the rubber variety, and I knew first hand these would not hold against a strong gust of wind, let alone purposeful strength. Highly unsatisfied, I searched through every aisle that I thought was relevant and was still unable to find anything suitable. Guess this plan was not going to come to fruition. Not wanting to waste the trip though, I made my way to the portable generator section to pick up a secondary power source.
Let me tell you something, the motherfuckers are HUGE! There was no way I could drag any of those monsters to the car, not from the second floor and no power in the mall. I felt a sense of bitter irony, I needed power in order to move my secondary power source.
Giving in to frustration, I sat down on a bench decorating the gardening section and tried not to yell. Staring straight back at me on a shelf were packets of wood in plastic bags with the word SHIMS in large font. Well, what do you know, they hid these little babies in the flooring section. Apparently they looked exactly like the rubber door jams I had rejected earlier, except in solid wood. What use they were in gardening totally escaped me. Cheering up, I started gathering my new treasures and chucking them into my backpack. I also found plastic containers that could hold up to 40L. Perfect for my emergency petrol stash. Siphons were arranged conveniently around the containers. I guess this trip was not a complete waste after all.
Remembering to keep a close watch on my surroundings, I tied one of the containers on the loop thing that backpacks have between the shoulder straps. Never did figure out what those actually did, but sure came in handy this time. The siphons fitted easily inside the bag itself. Then I hoisted the backpack on my shoulders and picked up another container and proceeded to my car. It could double as a shield if anything surprises me.
I made quick time back to my car, and was careful to use my binoculars for long-range scanning. My goodies got unloaded into the car quickly and before leaving, I gave in to my morbid curiosity to check on the zombie I birdied to death. What I saw chilled me.
The corpse had decomposed quickly, natural after days in the hot tropical weather. What was unnatural were the bite marks surrounding the neck and stomach area. Something had been feeding. My eyes shot up again to scan the surroundings. Nothing. It might have been dogs. We do have packs of strays running around, after all. Dogs would have eaten more and dragged the carcass with them though. Fuck.
Well, this was bound to happen, there could not have been just one zombie in the whole of Kuala Lumpur. It did not compute mathematically. I guess reality just sank in. Not wishing to tempt fate, I hurriedly returned home. I was calmer than I had expected. Guess after the first kill, anticipation of the next one came easier.
Driving back to my previously secured petrol kiosk, I filled my two spare tanks and left them in the trunk. Filled my car up again for good measure too. Grabbed an ice cream from the store as well. I deserved a treat while the station's power was still up. Or any power. I was starting to be obsessed with losing power, though I still insisted on taking the elevator every time I leave. I knew that I was subconsciously avoiding the stairs, fearing what I would find.
I left the spare petrol and siphons in the trunk, and made my way back home after parking my car, via elevator power, of course. Some down time was needed, especially after such obvious proof that more zombies awaited me.
After partaking of lunch and calming myself, I assessed the work that awaited me. I decided to work on the stairway closest to me, the one at my usual elevator lobby. Opening up packs of the shims, I kept them in my sling back containing some tools and talcum, and went out armed with my helmet, club and crowbar only. The bracers never left my arms, of course.
The talcum powder had been washed off by the rain, though that mattered little now. I opened the door and stepped into the unknown. Closing the door behind me; I didn't want any nasty surprises slipping into my safe zone; I decided to start securing the floors above me first. The plan did not appeal to me at all, as I had to be ready for surprises from the various corridors and anything in the stairway itself. However, I had limited options, I didn't fancy clearing the corridors one by one with unsecured stairwells being potential swarming points, and I had to start somewhere and I chose to secure doors before corridors. So I climbed up, being as quiet as possible with straining ears.
I arrived at 15 and hurriedly closed the door without peering into the corridors, heart pounding. The last thing I needed was a rampaging pack of zombies rushing me. I grabbed my shims and shoved ithem into the space between the door and its hinges one by one. One above the top hinge, one in the middle and another below the lower hinge. For surety, I shoved a shim beneath the door as well. My attempts to open the door was met with no success, the shims near the hinges prevented the door from swinging inwards. I consoled myself into thinking zombies wouldn't have the presence of mind (heh, get it?) to even turn the door knobs, much less extracting the shims.I was being as quiet as I could, but fear of what lies beyond the door made me clumsy.
I made my way up to 16, and repeated the process. The other floors followed suit. It was time to go down. The constant pressure and exertion had me panting so I returned to HQ and took a break. Much better for my nerves this way. Hot chocolate is always good to calm me down. Nobody was around anymore to tell me it would make me fat.
The leftmost stairway was secured all the way to ground floor without incident. I left the ground floor door unjammed, in case I needed to run up them. I planned to shim this door as well once I've secured the other stairways. I took a lift back up to 14 and powdered the doorknob of that yet unsecured door.
By the time I was done, it was already 5pm. Not willing to risk doing a half-assed job of the middle stairway before dusk, I returned home to recuperate. My leg muscles were protesting from the abuse: they were not used to climbing 20 floors, even if most of the climbing was downwards.
I ate an entire bar of chocolate as dinner tonight. Life is good.
End log.
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