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15th June

Reluctantly, Adam and I hit the road again today, and we’re some way down the road, about a quarter of the way back to the chemistry lab.

It took some doing, tearing ourselves away from a nice comfortable army base, with its 10 foot high fences, virtually unlimited weapons, and crates of food.  Still, we had promised the Doc we’d return to him with what we could.

The biggest dilemma was how to get more than what we could carry in our backpacks back to the lab.  That was soon solved when we found the golf carts. One was kitted out with a flat-bed on the back and we loaded this up with plenty of ammo, weapons and food, but then came the issue of the 6 years of dormancy slowly draining the batteries dead.

We discovered the generator – a huge, green metal box with an exhaust chimney sticking out the top.  A bit of tinkering and swearing and kicking later and it was up and chuffing out black smoke, coughing and choking on overaged diesel.  Once running with some semblance of normalcy, it was generating power and I plugged in the cart to charge up for a few hours.

We’ve long since scooped up all of the bodies and had a mass bonfire some way from the barracks.  This was a solid day’s work, but made the place a little more bearable.

So we’re on the road now.  Thankfully this electric buggy is quiet enough that we can zip along without attracting too much attention. We’re spending the night off the road and in a culvert under the road where things are slightly more defendable than being exposed out on the road.  We’ve got the food, we’ve got the ammo, we just need to make it through a few more nights out in the open again before we’re back at the lab and safe once more.

Hold it, I hear something…

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Posted by on 15 June in Zombie Philes

 

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9th June

We’ve spent a couple of nights here now. We both feel safe behind the fence. Well, if a bunch of undead soldiers couldn’t find their way out for six years, what’s to say any will find their way in any time soon? Still, we check the perimeter just to be on the safe side.

Adam loves the short confidence course the soldiers must have used to keep fit. Some of the logs and climbs are a bit too high for him, but it’s the next best thing to a jungle gym for the poor chap.

We’ve got food here, in the way of expired dry rations. We’ve got security behind the fence. And to top it all off, we’ve got a truck load of weapons and ammo. Now, if only we could find a way to get this lot back to the Doc for his all new and improved inventions.

No hurry though, think we’ll stick it out a few more days and see what cunning plan I can come up with to get some of this food and ammo back to the chemical lab.

It’s nice to feel safe again, even if it is for a short time.

 
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Posted by on 9 June in Zombie Philes

 

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7th June

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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30th May

The Doc was pretty pleased with himself when he read the results of our little field trial. He went off muttering away to himself like a mad professor, so Adam and I went our own way in search of something to eat that wasn’t several years old and preserved only due to the fact that it was pure sugar.

Back outside again, the fresh air was nice, the cool morning air was still and a thick veil of mist covered the ground to ankle height. The only sound was the mournful craw of a nearby crow. Adam and I jumped the fence and scavenged in the nearby fields. A couple of dopey wanderers were quickly dispatched silently and even they couldn’t put a dampener on the peaceful start to the day.

We got back to the lab again with a bag of mushrooms, some wild fennel which grows like a weed, and a handful of spindly carrots that had self-sown in somebody’s old garden. The Doc was still buzzing around all excitable, in his own little world, so Adam and I fired up a Bunsen burner and got to frying up our breakfast. It wasn’t until the Doc flitted past us with armloads of beakers and boxes that he stopped dead in his tracks, took a sniff of the air and looked over to see what the great smell was. We went thirds in our meagre breakfast, but even that was a gazillion times better than a stale chocolate bar.

The Doc took the time over breakfast to discuss his thinking. There was good news and bad, and multiple of each it turned out.

The Good News was that the Doc knew what the issues were with his failed experiments and believed there were ways to improve on them. Making non-lethal body shots into lethal ones.
The Bad News was that, whilst the storeroom in the basement was chocka full of all the ingredients that he needed for his improved bullets, there were only so many bullets left that he had scavenged from the security guards and from their wing of the building.
The Good News was that a few clicks up the road was a military training outfit which had been long since overrun and was bound to have plenty of what the Doc was in short supply of.
The Bad News was, muggins here and his little Boy Wonder were the only two of the three Living in the entire building capable of making it back from a mission like that.

I’ve never been a fan of Bad News.

 
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Posted by on 30 May in Zombie Philes

 

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23rd May

The building has been running on energy provided by a nearby wind farm. Seems that although their business is based on poisoning the planet with their chemicals, they made everything all right again by using renewable energy. On the up side, this meant that as long as power usage was kept low the place had continuous power. The building would have drawn off from the main grid when power usage went above what the wind farm generated, but with the grid now non-existent, Doc had to limit his power use to just what the wind farm could produce.

Adam and I left the Doc downstairs as we deployed our usual building clearing tactics. Adam watches my back as we methodically go room to room checking for snotties.

I like to take a quiet look into a room in case there are lots of them first. If not, I knock on something (door, wall, back of a zombie head) to get their attention, and as they shuffle over, I dispatch them with ol’ rusty trusty – my machete.

Adam watches my back and in the corners in case I miss anything. He has his gun now, but that is a last resort as we want to ninja our way around. Too much noise will get them lurching towards us from all over the place so we take it carefully.

The zoms here are all dressed in their suits, or in some cases, white lab coats. They’ve been locked in here for some time so they are pretty lethargic and gaunt. They don’t take a lot of killing. I pile them up in the hallways ready for getting rid of them later on. They’re very light, being not much more than bones with a leathery layer of skin stretched over them.

We spent most of today clearing out the 4 floors above ground level. Doc was relieved when we came back unscathed and no worse for wear.

I think he’s been fairly happy in his solitude all this time, but just too terrified to take on the mission we just went on.

As thanks he wanted to show us what he’s been up to for the past few years, but we were both pretty shattered after our day of slaughter. It’s pretty sapping running on non-stop adrenaline for hours on end. We hoovered a few snack bars from a vending machine upstairs and settled in for the night. I promised Doc we’d see what he’d been doing in here tomorrow.

 
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Posted by on 23 May in Zombie Philes

 

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21st May

Several days on now and we’re running out of food. Water isn’t a problem as we catch what runs off the roof of this tiny tin shed where holed up in.

The boredom is also a killer. Adam is wondering why we’re spending so much time here. I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself. This doesn’t look like the lab we’re looking for, it’s just a very well secured office building. I’m even starting to doubt whether I even saw some guy outside the building.

Studying the piles up corpses outside the door shows nothing untoward, other than a sizeable hole in each ones head. They just look like every other rotting corpse on this messed up planet.

If there’s no sign of life tomorrow we’ll have to hit the road again to find some supplies. Not only is lack of food getting to us, as I mentioned, the boredom is driving us both nuts.

Adam has read everything I’ve scavenged and brought with us a billion times. We’ve run around and around the building playing games and getting wet and muddy – anything to keep active.

That kid has too much energy for such a malnourished tyke.

 
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Posted by on 21 May in Zombie Philes

 

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1st May

So day 6 rolled around today and we’re still here.

I think the decision was sealed today when Adam woke up at his usual 6am and crawled under the stiff grey blanket into bed with me and asked when we were going. He probably feels the same sense of unease as I do, or maybe it’s just emanating from me and he’s picking up the vibe. Whatever, we’ve decided to pack up and move on tomorrow after morning chow.

I got to have a good chat with the sergeant today. Seems he’s the reluctant leader of this rag-tag mob. He doesn’t really relish running this camp, but he can’t think of anybody better qualified to keep everybody alive past breakfast, so had to step up when he stumbled (probably, knowing him, marched) into town three years ago. At that time it was nothing more than a bunch of scared and hungry citizens holed up in the upper floors of some barricaded apartment blocks. It took a year’s hard graft to get it up to its current standards. He has designs of reclaiming the entire town and walling it off from the rest of the world, but that is way out in the future. Right now he’s happy to keep things running as they are until they start outgrowing, or more likely, using up all the available resources around here.

We spoke at length about the types of people he has in the community. There are those that want to help out in any way they can. He pointed out that I was one of those, and was even complimentary about how Adam fit right in and did whatever he needed to do around the place. There are those that want to run this place themselves, as some kind of hippy community with love and mung beans and peace to all zombies. Then there are the general layabouts expecting that everything is provided to them on a platter without having to lift a finger themselves.

I told him my FIFO motto – Fit In or Frack Off, and he seemed to like that, but his only concern is that the security of the place is maintained and that everybody has enough to eat. Beyond that, the general layabouts got no more and no less than anybody else. I got the sneaking suspicion that those that pulled their weight got slightly larger portions of rations and the odd snifter of booze when a bottle store raid was pulled off.

I can’t understand this mentality of people that think they are owed anything. Do they think others are also owed something for nothing too? How do you arrive at the conclusion that by doing nothing, you have the same right to your fair share as the guy next to you that works his butt off all day to achieve those things? I simply cannot plumb the depths of a twisted mentality such as that.

So I thank the sergeant for his hospitality and everything and tell him that Adam and I are off the next day to look around further up North. We both check out his maps and he gives me a few pointers of where to avoid, and possible locations of this mythical lab I’m supposed to be looking for.

As a parting gift he pulls out of a cupboard a pistol. He tells me it’s a 9mm, and he plonks a box of ammo next to it. I thank him very much, the thoughts of the layabouts expecting something for nothing still ringing in my ears, but tell him I’m happy with the M16 from the army guys and my handy dandy machete. He then looks up at me with a grin and says “This ain’t for you son, this is for the boy.” I hadn’t even thought of arming Adam. He has his knife, which he’s used on a few occasions, but I’d never considered how old a kid has to be before you give them something as lethal as a gun before.

We really do live in interesting times.

 
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Posted by on 1 May in Zombie Philes

 

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