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22 December

And so I now find myself in possession of thirteen woman and twenty three children, mostly girls, ranging in age from six to eighteen. We have a carriage not only full of the weapons Adam and I had found, but an entire arsenal of weapons, ammo, knives, swords, grenades, you name it. The food carriage has tons of MREs, those military rations, gallons of bottled water, and other non-perishables that should last us months, if not years.

We went through several towns that day after the rescue. I stopped a few times, much to the horror of the ex-prisoners, but it was for good reason. Each time I passed a junction point, I switched it in a different direction. In this way, if anybody survived on that “Meat Wagon” as they called it, they would have a very difficult time of finding us.

The only decision now is where to go from here. I’ve studied the train tracks of the UK and have mapped out a few potential paths. Once the woman and children are back up to health again, have mourned those that have died both before the rescue at the hands of those bastards, and during the rescue at the hands of the zoms, and have healed mentally from whatever traumas they went through in the clutches of the hostage takers, I’ll let them decide. For now, Adam and I just have some catching up to do, and to see where the tracks lead us.

The only recurring thought I have after that long and horrific night is: What happened to that kid I saw at the feet of the Boss guy? I wonder if he escaped in the panic, was eaten by the zees, or is still chained to the psycho with the ice cold eyes?

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Posted by on 22 December in Uncategorized


14th December

I’m not going to say I was brave or reckless. I was just hollow inside. If this failed, then at least I had attempted to help Adam. If I went down with a mob of undead piling on top of me to sink blackened teeth into my soft flesh, then so be it. The outcome for Adam would still be the same – whatever that was to be, whether I had done this or not. At least in doing it there was some semblance of hope. Some shining glimmer like that of a star on a dark night that you can only see when you look to one side of it and use your peripheral vision.

When I opened that door I couldn’t believe the stench. I mean, I’ve lived with the smell of decaying rot for seven years now, but this made me physically gag. It was pitch black, but I knew the vague direction – straight ahead. I just didn’t know what was between me and that door at the far end, but knew for a fact, and due to the squelching shuffles around the space that there were a number of things lurking in wait for me.

I took a step forward and closed the door behind me with an audible thunk. This resulted in a shifting of bodies somewhere nearby. Between me and the windows down the side of the carriage, I could see black shapes against the lightening sky. It was still not dawn yet, but there was a hint of grey outside compared to the total black inside. I took an inching step forward and my foot squelched into something. I didn’t let my mind consider what it might be, but brought my other foot up to the heel of my first. I shuffled once more. The stench was unbearable and I swallowed the huge lump in my throat for fear of retching and brining attention to myself.

My hip hit the back of the first seat. I was not heading straight, so I re-aligned the map in my brain and pressed on. Nothing had grabbed me yet. Nothing had tried to lick my face or taste my brains. There was a shuffling of feet in front of me and I froze. This was madness. What seemed like several lifetimes roughly sewn together, but in reality was probably mere seconds later, I started moving again. I got a few more feet into the carriage.

There was a wet, sucking sound over my left shoulder. Like somebody peeling a slice of toast with honey that had landed jam-side-down from the floor. I staggered forward. My foot hit an object. A wet, soft, pliable object – my minds eye immediately conjured up the image of a skinless body.

Something cold, wet and slimy then dripped down the back of my neck. That was it! My last nerve shattered and I charged forward, stumbling over whatever that object was in front of me. A hand grasped at the back of my shirt and I freaked. I thrashed my way forward swinging my rebar wildly in front of me. A moaning sound in my ears started down low and rose up to a scream – shouting incoherently. It was my own voice. My arms flailed out in front of me and swiped aside upright bodies that felt like leather covered in wet treacle. I slammed face first into the door at the end. I didn’t realise what it was at first. It was just an object in my way as I tried to escape the carnage and horrors behind me.

My hand slid down and found the handle. I jerked it open and the fresh air of the next carriage hit me like a bouquet of summer flowers.

I had made it through without a scratch, so far. The horrors lying ahead were equally terrifying, but at least I had incentive. There was now a horde of hungry flesh eaters behind me looking to sup on my wobbly bits, and if not, simply infect me with their hideous diseases – and not in a pleasant way either.

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Posted by on 14 December in Uncategorized


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12th December

Sitting in safety now and thinking back to that night, my butt cheeks pucker thinking about what I did next and how stupidly risky it was. There was no other way that I can think of, even now in the light of day, other than what I did, but it had to be done.

Before opening that door to the cabin full of zoms, I trotted back to the cab of my train. I looked at the panel and saw the lights that had lit up denoting the carriages of the extended train. I counted back: 1. the car my engine was a part of, 2. the passenger carriage I brought with me, 3. a car full of undead, 4. guns and supplies, 5. food, 6. woman, children and Adam, 7. more woman and children, 8. morons and murderers. The 9th cab didn’t show on the dashboard readout, presumably on different electrics, and nor did the two locos at the other end.

I pressed the door unlock button for carriages two, six and seven. I dropped everything I had in the cab and grabbed my rebar. That was all I had to complete the next hair raising part of the mission.

Walking with purpose, I strode through the carriages, pausing to hit the door open button on the side of my passenger car. They opened with a whoosh to the cool night air. The sound of crickets and the purr of my engine coming in with a tang of diesel fumes. I marched to the back door of the carriage and opened the door to the dead.

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Posted by on 12 December in Uncategorized


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7th November

I’ve been on the trail for a couple of weeks now. Following the iron road through towns and cities. The carnage to either side of the track shows me which way they went whenever we come to a junction. They’re not exactly sneaking through the country. There’s nothing discrete or stealthy about a diesel train, half a dozen carriages and a bunch of complete crackpots armed to the teeth and rampaging up and down the country. But that’s jumping ahead. Don’t want to give too much away too soon.

So the hairy hillbilly, I heard his name was Kyle, drags me along behind him down the length of the carriage. This is when I notice there are others in the carriage too. A couple of small children cower in each other’s arms, curled up on one seat. A, what once was blonde haired, woman, looking thin and bedraggled, her huge, bulging eyes pleading, and at the same time I see pity. What could she possibly have pity for me for? At least I had a meal, of sorts, in the last day or two. Or had I? You know, I don’t have a clue to this day how long I had been unconscious. Either of the times.

Anyway, my odorous pal Kyle drags me to the door which connects the carriage to the next one. We’re heading forward, in the direction the train is moving. I can feel the movement of the train now and can see by the speed that the trees are sliding past the windows at we are moving very slowly. Not much more than walking pace.

Kyle swings the door open and steps forward and opens the next door. He pulls me through and I feel an urge to close the doors behind me. Well, it’s only the polite thing to do. But in a fit of rebellion I leave them open to swing in the motion of the wallowing train. The one behind me slams shut and as I look over my bloodied shoulder I see through the window in the door that the other one still swings back and forth. As pathetic as this seems, it gives me the merest sliver of satisfaction. After all, I don’t particularly like the hospitality that I’ve received to date and any slight on my hosts, however minor, seems like a victory to me.

I must have slowed as Kyle gave a hard yank on my shirt scruff and I stumbled forward through the next carriage. I braced myself with my tied hands on a seat and leant forward. I came face to face with the terrified face of a girl around sixteen years old. Her face was bruised and beaten. Her hair in ragged disarray and it looked as if she, or somebody else, had torn out great clumps of it. What little clothing she had on was torn and filthy. The terror on her face was evident, and her mouth opened in a silent moan of horror. Snot ran down her lips and left trails in the grime.

“Sorry.” I uttered as I straightened up. I resumed my stumbling along behind the man-mountain. Around me I didn’t see too many of the inhabitants as they were mostly lying down on the bench seats and hidden from view behind the seatbacks, but I heard whimpers, moans and a lot of crying from the dark recesses of the carriage. Many of the overhead fluorescents were out or flickering off and on annoyingly in this carriage, and added to the sense of hopelessness. I could taste the fear and over the smell of urine and sweat was the stench of defeat.

We cleared the next set of doors, but I managed to hang on to the handle of the first door, making sure it closed behind me. I don’t know why I did this. Was it to close those poor wretches off from whatever it was that so terrified them, or was it to close them off from me? So I didn’t feel their terror washing over me in waves. So I couldn’t sense their hopelessness seeping into my pores. So I didn’t break down and sob the way I felt I needed to. Then I looked up, and felt the need to steel my nerves.

This next carriage was host to the roughest, meanest, nastiest pieces of human filth I had witnessed. Not even the street gangs of the old world, nor anything the movies could throw at you could match a tenth of the grim reality before me. This carriage had only about ten people in it, but they were each the size of Kyle, easily. Mostly men, but there were at least two, what could loosely be termed, woman. It was something like what I once saw on that movie, what was it, Mad Max? They wore black. Any shade of black you could find. Where the clothes ended and the skin began was a mystery as the dirt and dried blood of victims stained them black as well. Some sported dark sun glasses. Most wore leather or denim. One had a filthy red bandanna tied on his head, and out the back sprouted a mass of writhing dreadlocks.

Some went quiet when I was dragged into the room, but most carried on with their cursing and raucous, almost forced, laughter at some vile comment another had made. This was where I picked up Kyle’s name as they shouted at him to let them ‘play with’ me. One spat at the back of my leg as I stumbled through. I was nearly clear of them when one guy stuck his leg out and I tripped over it. I glanced over my shoulder and saw he was immediately on his feet, a knife the size of a small sword in his hands and bearing towards my throat.

“Leave ’em Jack.” Kyle my saviour and gracious host said. “We’re off to see the Boss first, then you can acquaint yourselves.” There it was again: “Baaaawss”

Jack sat back down with a sneer on his face and a wicked twinkle in his eye. I didn’t like that look much. It said “We’re not finished here.” I didn’t like Jack very much. For some reason I don’t think he liked me from the moment I first tripped over him either. With any luck he’ll be the first with my blade in his ribs before this is all over. But I digress.

Surviving the gauntlet was a relief. It was the next carriage that was to bring the biggest surprise of them all. That was where Kyle dragged me in to face the Boss.

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Posted by on 7 November in Uncategorized


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12th October

I’m sitting in the kitchen writing this. The rest of the household is fast asleep, including Adam for a change. What I saw last night turned my blood cold and I’m still not over it.

The SF boys took me out on patrol with them. Just a simple routine jaunt, out to check up on our friendly neighbours that have taken a shine to hanging out in the nearby barn. Having these guys nearby has taught us a lot about them. For one, they’re pretty docile in the day time. They seem to go into some kind of trance state and just stand there with their heads down. You can get pretty close before they wake up. They don’t like the light and will pretty much stay in the barn if it is a bright day outside, even if you make a lot of noise. In this way we’ve managed to set up some infra red lights around and even inside the barn. It can’t be seen with the naked eye but with night-vision the place is lit up like broad daylight at night time. We took up position in a camouflaged hut the army guys have built nearby and started watching them with high-powered night-vision scopes on the sniper rifles. It was pretty cool really, but cold and boring. That was, until they woke up and started milling about. There are 5 of them there. One guy we call Boss Hog. He’s a large guy, still got some kind of overalls on, though you can hardly tell due to the mud and who knows what covering him from head to toe. He seems to be the ringleader. There are a couple of rangy looking teenagers. They’re called The Twins on account of them looking similar and they’re always going everywhere together. Boss Hog sent them out hunting with a flick of his hand and they came back a couple of hours later with what looked like a badger and a cat which they all settled down to munch on. Finally the other two came into view. The first one was a bit of a shock. She must be in her mid 20s and is very pregnant. The army boys call her The Mummy. I suspect the pregnancy is post-disease, which kind of freaks me out thinking that these Slovs are getting down and funky with one another. The fifth and final one, the one they’re calling Miss Cornwall because they say she’s a bit of a looker, well compared to any others they’ve seen, finally came out into the open. There’s no way they know we’re here, nor can they see us in the pitch darkness, but I swear she stared straight at me, down the barrel of the night-vision scope.

It was my wife.

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Posted by on 12 October in Uncategorized


10th October

You know, as well as all the good things we’ve lost due to this crappy virus that has turned everybody into flesh craving monsters, there’s also a lot of bad things I just don’t miss any more. Like taxes, and the nasty little people that work for the TV licensing company. Like when you walk into a classy department store and your nasal passages are assaulted by the stench of perfume everywhere. Dog shit on the pavement and pushy people who somehow think they have more right than you to be on this planet. Toxic waste, greed and the dishonesty of every and all large corporations. Bankers.

Hmm, I feel slightly better after that rant.

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Posted by on 10 October in Uncategorized


9th October

Another day down in the wild and bizarre world we, the few remaining, find ourselves living in.

A night patrol spotted half a dozen snotties hanging out in a nearby barn. There’s a heap of mines and tripwires between them and the camp, so the military mind decided to tag and track them. One of the gizmos I didn’t know existed and had to have explained to me by the SF guy I’m rooming with is a tracker. Seems there is a tiny dart thingy you can fire into somebody, feels like a bee sting, but puts out a signal that can be tracked from space. Although nobody is around to run them anymore, all the space junk we’ve been putting up there over the years is still happily doing their jobs, and the military satellites used for monitoring these trackers are still functioning properly. Didn’t take long for one of the Slovs to be tagged and now we can track his movements. Unfortunately he seems content with just hanging out in the barn at the moment, but as soon as he goes anywhere we’ll know.

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Posted by on 9 October in Uncategorized