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7th June

07 Jun

It was Adam who made me think of the idea when he reminded me that the 12 foot high fence looked like the killing cage back in Sanctuary, that town all those weeks back. There they allowed the walkers to stumble into a cage, and then from the safety of the other side of the fence they just poked holes in their brains.

We spent most of this afternoon making a wide circumference of the perimeter fence to make sure there weren’t any holes or gates left open. Everything looks buttoned up pretty tight. The latch on the gate clipped it shut when it swung back into place from the spring attached, and any Living could easily unclip it to get in. Fortunately the snotties on the other hand don’t have the mental capacity to get around this wee conundrum.

As we broke cover and made for the fence out in the open they spotted us and started getting all excitable and dribbly. The first few were no bother, and Adam took up his usual position of watching our backs for a rear ambush as I poked the sharp end of a crow bar through the fence into the brain stem of each of them in turn. They simply didn’t care when their fellow comrades in arms (and in some cases, without arms) fell dead again at their feet. They purely focused on getting at me and Adam through the fence, completely oblivious to the fate awaiting them at the end of the high tensile bar in my hands.

All their shuffling and shaking of the fence to get to us attracted more and more of the blighters. I had to move up and down the fence as the piles of corpses on the ground were stopping others getting close enough to the fence for me to poke in the head. Despite the one or two books I read, or was it movies I saw, on zombies, the ones in real life don’t moan and groan. They are silent, and this is the most dangerous thing about them. Yes, they make one heck of a racket, as the ones did today, when there is something in their way and they’re trying to get at fresh meat, but no noises actually come from their mouths. That is unless you count the gurgling and slobbering you sometimes hear. But I put this down to excess bodily juices, not actual vocal capabilities.

As the numbers dwindled, Adam and I made our way towards the gate. I let Adam shoot the last couple. In this way he got a bit of target practice, and the noise would attract any stragglers from inside the compound. We had to be extra vigilant though as it would also attract anything from outside the compound too.

The clean up inside the compound was pretty straightforward. It appeared that only one guy had remained indoors when it all went down as there was nobody behind locked doors. There was one guy in the john though. He was stuck in a cubicle. We carefully let him out, ready to dispatch him and he just fell on his face. The rotting trousers around his ankles tripped him up. A chop to the back of the head ensured he stayed there and we were done. Adam and I looked at one another after that and just about wet ourselves over the poor blighter’s situation. Still, we were in the right room if we did come close to wetting ourselves.

We’ve found a load of expired dry rations and some semi comfortable cots to bunk down in tonight. It all got a bit too late to scavenge much more in the dark before we had to lock ourselves down for the evening.

All up, a good day’s work and more vitamins from the meal we just had than we’ve had in a long time. Excellent.

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Posted by on 7 June in Zombie Philes

 

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