Tag Archives: Safety

11th April

So this is it then. Possibly the last time I write in this diary. I’ll bequeath this to Adam after I write this entry. Chances are he’ll lose it, destroy it, or use it for its soft and absorbent qualities the first chance he gets, but with any luck, perhaps he’ll carry it on. Who knows, perhaps it’ll be an outlet for him.

He seems to grow more withdrawn as he gets older. Back in the days of too much sugar, television and video games, a shrink would have diagnosed him with some mental illness or deficiency. Me, I just think he’s, what’s that word? Melancholy. Withdrawn. Likes to keep his thoughts to himself, and not let too many people into that inner sanctum. The only ones who have seen a chink in that armour are myself, and Jenny. I even feel a tad envious of Jenny for that. Me: I spent the past seven plus years changing his pooey butt and cleaning up after him. Protecting him from things that wanted to slurp his innards and taught him, albeit very poorly, how to read and write, but very well at how to shoot and kill. Jenny: well she just befriended him a month or so ago and went and lost her leg in the process. It is nice that he has somebody other than me to lean on though.

I look around our rag tag group. So many familiar faces now. How many of them will make it through tomorrow. How many are just cannon fodder for the Boss? Have I taken this a step too far, and we should have just backed that train up and run? What was I thinking?

In the morning, a smaller group of mainly children, with one or two of the adults for protection, will branch off from the rest of us and seek shelter to the west. If all goes well, we will come back to find them later. If not, they are to make their own way out of the area and fend for themselves.

The rest of us, accompanied by the group from Sanctuary, and lead by Christy, will make our way into the township. We will carry the ammunition from the train, and a lot of the remaining food, at least what we haven’t already given to the children’s group, as a means of distraction. As excited as the Boss and his lot will be to have me back, and a bunch of the woman he had lost on the train, let’s not forget he now has his own town full of woman to abuse, so things such as ammo and food will be of more interest to him initially.

The plan struck me when I thought about leaving my train behind. I recalled back in the day when you travelled on a train or other public transport at your own risk. It was the days when idiots thought that religion was a reason worthy of blowing themselves and others up. When cowards strapped explosives onto their bodies and boarded public transport in order to kill as many innocents in the name of their fictional beliefs as possible. As the main instigators that had whipped them up into a religious fervour in the first place sat back in their cave, or internet cafe or beanbag and laughed at the stupidity of the idiots that believed that committing mass murder placed you in the favour of the deity of their choosing.

It was this idea, this final gasp, what American sports commentators used to refer to as the Hail Mary, that grabbed me by the short and curlies and made me think there was one final way to rid what remained of the sane-end of the planet of the insanities of that one last bastion of evil, the Boss.

So now, those of us willing to put our lives on the line for the children of the group, and for anybody in that village of Sanctuary that are being abused or hurt. For anybody that wants that town to live up to its name once more. We have built a number of improvised explosives for use should the opportunity present itself. The idea is pretty simple really. We have a bunch of small cardboard boxes which once contained bullets. Most of the bullets have since been used up, or what few remained we tipped out into other receptacles. Somebody along the way had discovered a box of fragmentation grenades and added these to the ammo store on the train – long before I had come along. Inside each box we taped a grenade to the bottom of the box and a string, tied to the pin, was threaded through a hole in the top and the box taped closed.

What, to a casual observer, will appear to be a simple cardboard box for bullets, will actually be a grenade with a simple pin-pulling mechanism. Before anybody is any-the-wiser, with any luck we’ll have popped the pin on one or two of those and dropped them in the laps of the Boss and anybody loyal to him.

For Christy and her team, all they have to do is act as if nothing is amiss, lead us into the jaws of the enemy, and stand clear of the blast radius. Leading us into the jaws of the enemy, I have no doubt they can and will do, but not ratting us out is a matter of faith and trust now.

So as I sign off now, I hand this tatty diary over to Adam. He’ll carry it now and, should by some divine act of any one of these superior beings occur and I walk away from yet another stunt, Adam will pass it back to me to write all about it. Should I not, well, here’s hoping this isn’t the last entry in this diary and that Adam takes up the mantle.

So this is to you Adam if you’re reading this: I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next day. I don’t know what’s in store for you and I in the next ten years for that matter. I can’t even guarantee that one or both of us will be around in the next few days. What I can tell you is that if this stupid plan goes pear shaped and I’m hurt at all, I want you to carry on telling this story. You must carry on with this. To make sure that one day, if any humans ever make it through this nightmare, that they can read about our struggles, you and I. They can see the sacrifices that all of humanity have made to survive. To continue the species and to ensure future generations are possible.

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Posted by on 11 April in Zombie Philes


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8th April

We didn’t have much time. Our escort, her name was Christy, went and relayed our predicament to the rest of her crew and they came to a consensus. The problem was that the township knew that our train had arrived. Given the planet is dead silent these days, the rumble of a diesel engine, especially one as unhealthy as ours, and the squeak of metal on metal brakes, could be heard for miles. Given the town of Sanctuary was only a day and a half’s hike from here, they had no doubt heard us, the same way they had heard the remains of the Boss’ train when they had arrived in a similar fashion.

The senior members of my group, and a few of Christy’s team gathered in one of the carriages as the rest of the woman and children gave us our privacy and went to the other carriage. We spent a good couple of hours arguing, and at one point, shouting at each other. Neither team wanted to back down. Christy knew her and her crew couldn’t return to Sanctuary without us or they’d be killed for coming back empty handed, and didn’t want to leave the comforts and safety of Sanctuary. At the same time, I definitely had a price on my head, and the woman and children could not be allowed back into the hands of that maniac and his band of vile cretins.

And then it struck me. There was only one way out of this, and the chances were pretty slim that I would survive it, but it was there. It relied on a whole lot of trust on both sides, and a bit of work and last minute preparation, but if there was ever a chance, this was it. Christy frowned when she heard it, and picked holes in the already swiss cheese of an idea, but in the end she shrugged, let out a few expletives, and gave me a look that I’ve seen too many times before that said: ‘You’re completely off your rocker doing that, but at least it’s you and not me’.

We had work to do, and so little time it wasn’t funny. Christy went outside and briefed her crew on the rough outline of a plan. She remained sketchy on the details partially because the details had to be worked out as we went along, but also she didn’t know how many of her crew were completely trustworthy, and who had begun to side with the Boss and his cronies for fear of being killed, or worse. Well, there goes the complete trust element of the plan.

I’ve briefed my lot as best I can. There’s a ton of prep to do, so I’m out of time to write any more. Perhaps one more update as we’re on our way to Sanctuary, then possibly no more entries in this diary. I’ll update it afterwards if things miraculously work out.

Chances are very good though that this is my penultimate entry. If so, may I just say: life is hard and horrible, but unfortunately that nasty, painful, and terrible time that consumes ninety nine percent of your life, has to be endured for that one glimmer of joy, happiness, beauty, and/or love that appears so fleetingly, like the glint of a flake of gold at the bottom of a fast flowing stream. Did you really see it, and can you hold on to that moment forever, or will it be swept from you before you are ready? Take each of those moments, bundle them up into a tight package and hold those close to your heart. They will be the strength and light you can draw upon in the darkest hours of that ninety nine percent.

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Posted by on 8 April in Zombie Philes


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3 April

Some days have passed since my raid on that small town pharmacy. The train is definitely on its last legs now – nothing a decent dose of fresh diesel wouldn’t fix, but that just isn’t going to happen.

We’re close to our destination and I can feel the muscles in my neck and shoulders finally starting to relax as we do.

Jenny’s fever broke at last and the infection seems to have been knocked on the head at last. Her stump is still raw and sore, and there is a lot more healing than just physically she needs to get through in order to be the happy little girl she was before that fated outing. Adam can see the pain and anguish in her eyes too and has retreated somewhat from her. I can’t say I blame him, and do my best to keep him near me as much as possible now.

According to the map we’ve only got a couple more townships to get through and we’re there.

Please let it be how I remembered it, for the sake of the woman with me, but also for my sake as I get ready to hand them over to their new life and get some much needed rest myself.

I just hope that Sanctuary is the same place as it was a year or so ago when I was last here with Adam.

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Posted by on 3 April in Zombie Philes


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17th August

Loving the new digs. Not much in the way of accommodation, well just a fire station really and couple of sheds on the airport grounds, but this was never meant to be a base for a large number of people. The army have set up a number of their big tents and found some port-a-cabins around to bring in. There are houses surrounding the airfield a few of us have decided to make our homes.

The army guys have managed to secure the roads and most of the ways into this tip of the island, and with our backs to the sea we’re pretty safe by all accounts. Spare time is spent skimming stones on the beach, but the military lifestyle still continues to keep us all on our toes. A nearby farm was found to still have a number of cattle on it, but they were in a pretty bad way having not been moved on to better grazing in some time. A couple had to be put down and were commemorated in a big slap-up barbeque. The rest were grateful to be moved into an overgrown paddock.

A couple of patrols have been out to mop up any Slovs in the vicinity and night flights have confirmed no signs of heat signatures for 20 miles or so.

The kid Adam has been confirmed to have a dormant strain of the virus, and is declared safe for now, but regular tests will continue. For now he has been placed with a couple as sort of foster parents who are staying in the same house as me.

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Posted by on 17 August in Zombie Philes


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21 Apr

Turns out it’s like this the world over. There’s only a few places left untouched by this disease, remote, desolate places. At least that’s what the soldiers told me.

Took them completely by surprise when I rocked up in my army truck, laden down with stolen jewellery. They didn’t know whether to shoot or celebrate that somebody had made it out of London still un-infected. They ran all sorts of tests on me before declaring me healthy. Well, malnourished and a few bumps and bruises from various encounters, but at least without super-flu coursing through my veins.

The air force base just north of Brighton has been fortified and surrounded by army patrols. It was one of the patrols that picked me up a few miles out and put me through the wringer. They took their truck back off me and I don’t know what they did will all my loot, but I’m sure they’ve squirreled that away somewhere for themselves.

Right now I’m chilling out in a set of barracks they’ve set aside for the handful of healthies they’ve picked up in their travels. Fine if you like the colour green and dossing with a bunch of strangers. First relaxed sleep I’ve had in a while last night. Finally I feel safe with somebody else in charge of keeping the snotties at bay.

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Posted by on 21 April in Zombie Philes


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