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31st October

I’m taking a break. Getting my wind back as I rest. I’m in a small valley to the south of a large-ish city. I had to take the city in the daylight. No way I was going in there in the darkness.

I’m following the tracks, and the obvious signs that they’ve been through here.

How did it come to this? How did I lose my boy? Well that’s a long and, for me, disturbing story to regurgitate. I’ll try to summarise it, and may gloss over some of the more painful bits, but should get the general gist down for prosperity, or whatever bizarre reason I find myself writing this.

So the last thing I see I wrote was that we were in a culvert or ditch or something. It was a large pipe anyway, and kept the wet off us. There was a golf cart of ammo and weapons we had liberated from an overrun army base. Adam and I were holed up for the night and things were looking great for the foreseeable future.

I heard a noise outside the pipe, like a snapping twig or something – your senses are more alert to these things when you’re out in the wild and the only things moving at night are the dead. I stuck my head out the pipe to take a look and came face to foot with a pair of boots. As I started to look up, something solid connected with the back of my head. I heard the crack in my ears at the same time the gong went off inside my brain. The strobe of white light was like a camera flash had gone off point blank in my face. That was the last I knew. Thinking hard about it now, there are faint memories of Adam shouting, glimpses of trees, pain in my arms as I am dragged to who knew where. They could be imagined or real, I don’t know and they’re inconsequential.

I do, however, vividly remember waking up. I recall becoming aware of an intense red light in my face. But it wasn’t red at all, it was the light coming through my closed eyelids. As I cracked my eyes, the brightness of the daylight seared into my brain and I groaned. The first thing I heard was Adam shout “Dad” and I felt him land heavily on my chest and grope around my face as he searched for life. His sobs tore out my heart, and thinking back he must have thought I was dead, which would have been horrible for the kid believing he was alone in this terrible world.

I tried to put my hand to the back of my head, but my hands wouldn’t cooperate and I realised they were tied together. As my eyes creaked open letting in more and more of the painful light, I could see rows of blue, patterned bench seats, Adam also tied at the hands lying on my chest, and a dark and grizzled face staring down at me upside-down.

The owner of the face hadn’t taken the time to shave it for some months or years, so when the crack of a grin appeared, it was more like a reshaping of the fur where the mouth should be. Some words then came out, and for the life of me I struggle to remember what he said, but I’m thinking it was along the lines of “Boss ain’t ready for you yet.” That was just before a fist the size of a watermelon descended like a freight train (kind of ironic really, oh but that’s too soon). I couldn’t defend myself, my head was against the floor where I was lying, so all I could do was turn my head so my nose wasn’t broken, or pushed up into my skull. The explosion on my left ear ricocheted around my brain until my eyeballs felt ready to pop out of my head. My eyelids fluttered and I was out for the count once more.

And before I pack up once more to head out again I’ll let you in on a secret: Being knocked out isn’t like the movies lead you to believe, where you get hit, fall unconscious then wake up again and everything is rosy. A concussion lingers for days, making you feel nauseous, groggy, unsteady on your feet, sometimes you get hallucinations or think you hear things. Well, that is my experience from the only two times I have been knocked out anyway.

More later.

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Posted by on 31 October 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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2nd June

It’s amazing how quickly nature re-took all of the man-made infrastructure. After only 2 years the weeds were already poking through cracks in the roads, and the fields formally close cropped by machines and animals alike were full of tall swaying grass and wild tangles of brambles. Let alone now, more than six years on now since any lawns were mowed or weeds sprayed, the world is a tangled mess of growth and the force of man no more than rotting brick and steel piles. The sharp and severe edges of the man-made world worn blunt by the pressure of encroaching nature reclaiming its rightful ownership of the planet.

We trudge down a dirt path worn by the hooves of the plentiful deer – those too swift to be caught out by the lumbering zoms that is. The path runs roughly parallel to the overgrown road we are following. We are extra cautious out here in what we term the jungle. Thankfully the English forests are too hammered by the harsh winters to have much in the way of undergrowth, but visibility is still only a few metres in any direction, and Adam and I stay on high alert for any unusual noises. The snap of a twig will stop us in our tracks, alert for anything coming out of the woods at us.

The map has been marked with the roads we are to follow to get to the army training facility. Walking on the roads, and with a tail wind, we might make it in a few days. Keeping off the main thoroughfares as we prefer, it is more likely to be 4 to 5 days one way.

I had contemplated leaving Adam with the Doc, but for one thing, Adam couldn’t bear to be away from me that long, and the other thing is the Doc is such a scatterbrain and away with the fairies most of the time, if anything really went down Adam was probably the more streetwise of the two anyway. No, he’s safer with me I think.

Our camp this evening is a hollow in between the roots of a very large tree. I don’t know what flavour tree, I’ve never been that into horticulture. All I can say is, it’s less comfortable than the floor of an office in Doc’s building, but far better than the middle of a field in the rain, which we can attest to doing on several occasions.

Let’s get this mission over with so we can get back to the home comforts of an office floor and a slap up meal of chocolate bars.

 
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Posted by on 2 June in Zombie Philes

 

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27th May

This is written for the Doc based on my findings of how his inventions went.

So Adam and I went a few miles away from the lab and found a nice quiet field to do some practice in. The fences are in pretty good nick around this field, and I started off by letting Adam fire off a few rounds with his 9mm. Thanks to all the guns and ammo you found in the security guy’s area Doc, we won’t run short very soon.

Needless to say, within a half hour or so there was a good gathering of snotties around the fence line, drawn by the sound of Adam’s target practice.

The first order of business was to trial the tasers you found in the security wing Doc. This bright yellow thing shaped to look like a pistol fires three pointy prongs out, each trailed by a very thin coil of wire. When the prongs hit something (or an ex-somebody in this case) they stick in, and pulling on the trigger delivers a good 20,000 (or was it 40 thousand Doc?) volts down the wires into the slov.

The result Doc is that the zombie stands there and spasms a bit, but it doesn’t really do a lot more than that. I held my finger on the trigger for a good few minutes before the battery ran dead, but the zom just quaked about for a while and then came back slathering at us.

So that’s Test One a failure.

Next you told us to give the new bullets a try out. With the snotties stuck on the other side of the fence from us, this was something I’d give Adam a go with, as you asked for us to aim at their bodies instead of the head this time.

The bullets you marked with a blue dot were first up. Adam popped a guy in the thigh, but I think it just went right through. It blew a big chunk out of his leg though and he fell over. Looks like his football days are over. I told Adam to go for a wider bit of the body and this time he clocked one in the chest. It stood there for a bit and then we heard a whistling sound as steam started coming out of the hole! We both tried a few more shots to other parts of the body with much the same effect – i.e. a hole with a jet of steam. Only a headshot was effective in putting them down.

I think you said the blue dot bullets were hollow nose bullets filled with hydrogen peroxide and methanol? The result was a steamy hole, but not much more.

The third, and final test for the day were your green dot bullets. Much the same as the last test, these are hollow points with a brew of hydrogen peroxide again, but with salt and vinegar. Sounds like we’re giving them crisp flavoured bullets as an appetiser, but we’ll give it a go.

Adam popped one into the chest of an old lady. Much like the ones we turned into boiling kettles earlier, this one just staggered from the impact then came right back to the fence again wanting to get at us. About 30 seconds later, Adam was lining up another shot when I told him to hold on a minute. The chest of the woman he shot seemed to be caving in. After a few seconds, some black ooze came bubbling out of the hole and dribbled down as her whole chest just collapsed and she ended up flopping to the ground.

We tried a few more shots each, getting a bit more distance from the fence so the bullets would stay in the zoms rather than pass right though. It appears that the green dots take between 30 to 90 seconds to react (not all of them did though) before a very strong acid starts eating away at the snottie’s flesh. This doesn’t kill them as the head is still untouched, and the acid stops working after a minute or so.

Not a total failure if you’ve got time on your hands to wait for the reaction, and aren’t too bothered about then still remaining snappy afterwards.

We’ll head back in now and hope you answer the door this time!

 
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Posted by on 27 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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20th May

We’ve been camping out in this shed for a few days now. This damn rain keeps on coming – and here I was thinking this was supposed to be Spring!

Patrolling around I’ve found that this entire place is walled off, and with that huge gate out front we’re pretty secure.

I’ve cased out the building and it’s buttoned down good and tight. No way in unless those inside want to let you in. I’ve been hammering on that door, and the metal barriers over the windows, off and on for ages but no answer.

Basically the building is a single-storey, modern-looking thing. I’ve never seen anything like these metal roller doors covering the windows, except at high-end jewellery stores and the likes. It’s damn Fort Knox.

So Adam and I just hang out. We’ve grabbed a couple of simple books along the way on our adventures for him to have a go at and read them most nights before sleep. We’re running low on food again, so I might take a run to see if I can find a store or something, but from memory they’re miles away. This is a safe spot to leave Adam if I go on my own, but what will happen to Adam if I can’t make it back?

I’m starting to doubt I actually saw a person, but I’m positive I did. Why won’t the fecker answer our knocking? Surely he/she doesn’t think that the snotties know how to knock on a door and shout.

 
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Posted by on 20 May in Zombie Philes

 

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12th May

Well, the adventure just got a little more real today. Sussing out a wee convenience store this morning, I was just making my way into the front door to see if there were any lurkers inside before raiding the shelves when Adam gave a shout from back outside.

I popped my head out again to see that a couple of slovs had come around the corner of the store and were fast approaching. I raised my machete to make a run at them when I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. There were three more behind me in the store, now making a bid for freedom, or more likely a bid for the back of my neck.

Caught between a rock and a dead place, Adam and I had to fight our way out. Adam struggled at first under the pressure, forgetting to take the safety off his quickly drawn gun, but I was slightly less worried because they were still about ten feet away from him. The three inside were one swift lurch from grabbing hold of me and dragging me down.

I spun and lopped the outstretched arms off the first one coming for me, and sliced the side of its head off with the backswing. The second took a neat slice to the neck before its head lolled back with a sickening sucking sound coming from its throat before collapsing in a heap. Just as I thrust the machete into the eye of the third, Adam got his first shot off. With a quick twist and pull, I wrenched my machete back out of the face of my last assailant and turned to see Adam had capped his first undead.

It turned out to be a bit of a sloppy shot in the heat of the moment, but the bullet entering under the lower jaw took a sizeable chunk out of the back of the zom’s head due to the angle of wee Adam shooting upwards. I threw my machete at Adam’s last visitor and it hit it in the chest, making it stagger back a step or two. That was all the time Adam needed to line up his next shot and cap the snottie through the left eye. What a shot! I’ll have to find him a fair one day where he can shoot those metal pegs with an air rifle with a bent barrel – see if he can’t win an oversized teddy bear or something.

So it was a bit of a nervous start to the morning, but it turned out for the best as the wee store was still full of all sorts of non-perishables we could take with us. Mostly boiled sweets and the likes, being one of those quaint ‘ye olde’ stores on the tourist trail, but worth it all the same. Adam got his reward for his fine shooting under pressure.

 
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Posted by on 12 May in Zombie Philes

 

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