19 August 2014
Location: Apartment 0
Reflections: Human beings are the only species capable of creating conspiracies.
~~~
I
spent four days in captivity. Food was delivered twice a day by Face in
the Window. All attempts at conversation were blithely ignored, as he
backed me away from the door with a gun and set the tray down. There was
a toilet attached the the room, much to my pleasure and surprise,
though it came with barred windows.Sounds of gunfire erupted
Yesterday
night, the routine was broken when Older Man stepped into the room
after my meal. By then, the battery of my tablet had ran out, and I am
now transcribing the interview from memory:
- Older Man: Hello. I am sorry for your nasty experience the last few days. It was necessary though, so I trust you haven't much to complain about everything.
- Me: I'm not sure what's going on, mister. All I know is I'm out looking for fellow survivors of the Problem. Is there a reason for my captivity?
- Older Man: Why yes, yes. I apologise for the rough handling. We had to ensure you were not infected by the zombies. All precautions must be taken to keep us safe.
- Me: Fair enough, I can understand that. How many of you are here? I'm amazed to have found you, honestly. I was worried I'm the only normal human left.
- Older Man: Some of us are of the same family. We bumped into fellow survivors and established our base of operations here. It was a bit of a shock to have found you. Tell me, how did you survive?
- Me: (Some caution must be exercised here, I haven't a clue who these people are). I am not much of a people person, and basically when the authorities said to stay home during the curfew, I stayed home. It's just me now.
- Older Man: I see. It is heartening to see another healthy human. I hope you will enjoy joining our group.
- Me: Uh, was that an invitation to join forces?
- Older Man: *chuckles* You could say that. Though you will have to stay in this room for the time being.
- Me: Wait, am I a prisoner?
- Older Man: Good heavens, no! Why would you think that? It is just for your safety for now.
At
this point, the interview ended, and Older Man left the room and closed
it behind him. I don't really care what he said, but it sure sounded
like I was being kept a prisoner. But, prisoner for what? It was not as
though we were at war with each other, seeing as how the other side were
basically zombies. Humans should be sticking together. I suppose they
could be keeping me in quarantine in case I was infected, but if so he
should have mentioned it. My spidey-senses were tingling.
My
belongings were still with me, even my pistols, so that was heartening.
I had previously tried knocking on the door, only to be ignored so I
was not sure if there was anybody on the other side. I tried again this
morning, no response.
I
did not fancy remaining a forced guest in the mosque (I had peered out
the window of the toilet by painstakingly straining my arm muscles to
pull myself up to reconnoiter the surroundings). There was an uneasy
feeling of paranoia that surrounded me.
My
first meal arrived as per usual. Once again, I tried to engage Face in
the Window in conversation and had no luck in eliciting any response
other than a frown. Determined to leave the room, I left off eating my
food as late as possible so I would have strength for what I had planned
when my second meal was delivered.
Belongings
packed, I consumed my rations an hour before the usual evening
delivery. When Face in the Window knocked on the door and told me to
back to the side, I backed to the side...of the door. The door opened
and the muzzle of a gun, I was pretty sure it was a rifle, appeared and
he stepped in. Before he could notice I was not in my usual place, I
grabbed him and pulled him in. Then I placed the barrel of my
six-shooter to his head and told him to keep quiet if he valued his
life. I know, very Hollywood of me.
I
made him put the food tray down and hand me his gun, warning him that
any overt noises would result in a loud bang. Taking a chance, I backed
us both out of the room, him in front of me, with me holding on to the
collar of his shirt with one hand, pistol aimed at his head in the
other. The corridor was empty. I made him open the main door and was
glad to see that my car where I had left it. The engine was off but I
was confident that it had died after I was taken away from the car with
the keys in my pocket. It was one of those nifty security features of
the Vellfire where the car died if the key was not in close proximity to
the vehicle. Of course, it might have died from running out of fuel
after I left it idling, but life was about taking chances. The grounds
around the mosque was clean, belying the fact that the last time I saw
this place, we were about overran by zombies.
Taking
a leaf out of the movies I've watched, I clubbed him at the back of his
head with the butt of my gun. Unlike the movies though, he did not
collapse unconscious, just stumbled away from me. I apologised to him
and kicked him in the nuts. I felt bad, really, but I was worried what
these people had planned for me.
I
ran for my car, got in and pressed the ignition button. It revved to
life. Gasping in relief, I sped away from the site of my incarceration
without looking back. I've had enough of my fellow humans, especially
this group.
During
my escape, I kept an eye on my rearview mirror, making sure nobody was
following me home. I arrived at my Headquarters without incident, and
hurried back home. My furry companion greeted me with an exuberant
welcome and I settled down to recover from my capture and to analyse the
incident.
Who
were those people? That they had wanted me alive was no doubt, but what
did they want with me? And why did they feel the need to keep me
imprisoned instead of as an active pair of hands to help with
their...whatever they were doing? Should I continue looking for fellow
survivors?
End log.
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