My name is Chris, Ive lost track of time. It feels like years since I first started running, but I think its only been a few months. Days turn to weeks, and the weeks drags on, such is the new way of life. And yet, despite the violence and chaos, I dont really miss the old world...

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


      The silver light of the moon danced on the rolling waters to the left of me as I ran along the coast towards the docks.  So serene, this had been the most relaxing sight I had seen in months hands down.  But now was no time to let my guard down, the beginning of the pack had begun to come over the hill and found me once more.  The moans send shivers down my spine as I ran across the loose sand.  Running as fast as I could, I weave through the few undead already on the beach as their wet arms reached for my living skin.  For what seemed like hours I ran along the coast until I came upon the docks, much larger in person as opposed from the roof a few miles away.  Turning around I take a look at those still following me.  They have a hard time keeping their footing in the loose sand.  Good, that should slow those rotting fucks down.  I turn back and begin to head to the wooden ramp that would lead to the docks.  Climbing up, I look towards the sea.  Not too many boats left, but the ones here will suffice.  Not waiting for the undead to catch up, I run as fast as I could towards the first of the remaining boats, hoping that I didn't trap myself here...
       The first boat I come to is a rather old yacht.  Not bad old, just an older model.  I step on and head for the control room.  I find the door cracked open, I opt to knock on the door before running in.  Don't do anything stupid, you finally found yourself a boat.  I wait a moment then open the door.  Inside, I can barely make out a shadow in the chair.  Cursing myself for not bringing a flashlight, I step in the shadows, my adrenaline on full blast.  As my eyes slowly adjust to the dark I can see its the remains of a person, perhaps the boats owner, badly decayed.  Once I realize its not undead I move in closer.  The man had committed suicide, the back of his skull was all over the wall behind him.   As I toss his remains from the chair I hear a clinking noise coming from his pockets.  Oh please let that be the sound of your keys!  Taking a deep breath, I plunge my hands into his pockets, choking back vomit as I feel around for those -Bingo!-  I pull out a set of keys for the boat and turn back around to the controls looking for the ignition.  I jam the key in and twist it, bringing the boat to life.  The engine had roared to life, drowning out the moans of my followers.  I gently bring the boat out of its docking area and steer it towards the exit, freedom only yards away.  I can feel my adrenaline leaking from my system, terror replaced by the comforting feeling of safety. The moon shone brightly, making the water seem illuminated as I gently sailed in the total darkness, not knowing where any of the light switches were.  I didn't care anymore, I was free.  On my own, no body else around.  Or zombies, none here to break down a fence and come moaning for my flesh.  
     Time passes and the sun rises.  The town and what was left of its living inhabitants were long behind me.  Looking at the control panel I see many gauges that were foreign to me.  But I see something mounted on the dash that I know, and something that could save me from drifting aimlessly at sea.  Compass.  Sweet, now all I need is a GPS, if those still even work...  So long had I gone without technology that I took for granted in my daily life.  And yet I felt liberated at the same time.  No longer did I stay up until 5am surfing the web, or constantly clicking away on my phone texting like a mad man.  I rub my eyes, my energy falling fast.  I need to park this boat so I can get some sleep.  Grabbing my pistol, I open the door to the deck.  The salt air is strong, but I embrace it.  The early sunlight illuminates the deck and I see an anchor mechanism.  Walking to it, I begin to crank the wheel the chain is attached to.  Slowly the anchor descends into the dark blue abyss below, until the anchor hits the bottom.  Locking the wheel, I head to the bottom of the boat, gun ready.  As I make my way to the rather short hallway I stop and knock on the first door loudly and wait.  Nothing.  I'm alone.  I let out a sigh of relief as I head back upstairs.  Before I can get to sleep, I have one last thing left to do.
       Coming back into the captain's area, as I have begun to call it, I find the body of the previous owner slumped on the floor.  Searching the rest of his pockets I find a couple of clips for a gun, which means there could be a cache of supplies here.  The thought of it makes me smile.  This man had given me so much, I cant just toss him overboard like garbage.  I head back down to the sleeping quarters to find a sheet. After tearing the sheets off the bed down below, I come back up and wrap his body up before sending him off to sea.
I haven't fallen asleep in the sun in forever.  Let alone sleeping without someone watching my back.  I could get used to this...  The ocean breeze gently caresses my tired body as I drift off into sleep.  The thoughts of what lay ahead were oddly optimistic, yet it felt good to think positive.  

Sunday, May 8, 2011


      Running back into the room, I find the older man on the floor, wrestling with the now undead girl, snapping wildly in an attempt to get a mouth full.  One shot sent into her skull sends the body limp as he shoves the corpse off to the side.  Sitting against the wall in the narrow hallway, his gaze is locked on the now lifeless body directly across from him.  "She..she was bit after we got into town.  I went looking for something to eat, and she insisted I took her with me."  He starts babbling, as if to admit to his hand in her demise.  "She wouldn't take no for an answer, so I took her with me.  I let me daughter get bit, I let MY daughter die!  What kind of father am I?"  Tears streamed down his face, contorted with sorrow and pain.  I crouch down to try to console him.
  "Its not easy, I know trust me.  I....I had to do the same with my sister, and several other people along the way.  But you are still alive, and that's all you can ask f.."  I am pushed into the door, my opinion is invalid as he cuts me off yelling at me, while pointing at the remains of his daughter.
  "What the fuck does it matter if I'm alive and she is dead?!  She had her whole life ahead of her, mine is already half over, I would have gladly given my life for hers!  Just, just get away from me."  He stands on unsteady legs. I know the feeling, losing the last person you have in your life.  Unsure if you can even go on without them...  His anger towards me bounces off, I know he is hurt.  I brush off the drywall off of my shoulder, before I offer my last bit of help.
  "There is a group of us downstairs, if you want we can take you to our safe house.  We will be leaving soon though."  And with that said, I leave the room and head back to the lobby.
       As my footsteps echo in the concrete stairwell, I can hear a second pair.  Heavier, and coming from a few floors above me.  I look up and see him staring down at me.  Nothing is said as we stare into each other. That man wants me dead for what I did.  cant blame him though, but he also owes you his life.  Just watch your back...  "Are you coming with us?"  I yell upwards.  He nods and continues his slow pace.  Not wanting to wait, I continue on my way downstairs.   As I make my way to the bottom floor I noticed several things.  It was getting dark, nobody was in the lobby, and I could hear shuffling coming from the outside.  Forgetting about the man trailing me, I draw my machete out from its sheath and step outside, ready to run.  Blade in hand, I am ready for a fight, but see nobody.  Wow.  Abandoned not once, but twice.  You must be a real stand up guy...  Ignoring the thought, I jog down the street and I am greeted by a few undead, several were dragging their broken bodies towards mine.  "Well this blows.  Looks like I'm alone again."  I head back to the hotel, but I don't hide inside.  Instead another idea had come to mind.  Perfect sailing weather no?  Time to continue with this journey of yours and see where it leads... I head west, towards the docks.  Forgetting all about the warehouse, about the man I just saved, everything.  Its time I went home.

     The run to the docks was frightening.  The sun had almost set completely and the dead were out in force.  It was like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.  The moans were rising from all around, the alleyways and buildings were like deathtraps.  I was lucky though, most of the dead were so badly decayed here that it took a simple sidestep or a light swing to send them crashing face first into the broken concrete.  I continue to head towards the setting sun, hoping the next street would be beach front.  If not I needed to find a place to hide for the night.  More moans had risen behind me, my rotting tail growing larger by the minute.  Jumping over fences and dodging those undead oblivious to my presence.  After several more streets and yards crossed, I find what I am looking so desperately for.  The ocean.  That sweet smell of salt on my nostrils breathes new life into my tired body.  As I step onto the loose sand, I head out towards the dock.  The moans of the dead were drown out by the crashing of the waves onto the beach, a calm and relaxing sound.  

Saturday, May 7, 2011


      As I make my way further into the building, leaving the group, I find a stairwell.  Slowly approaching the door I undo the safety on my pistol, ready for anything.  Gun barrel first, I hop into the poorly lit room.  Seeing no immediate threat, I allow my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit stairwell.  Looking up I see the building is ten stories easily.  I silently make my way to the top floor first and planned to slowly sweep each floor for any traces of recent habitation.  The higher up I climbed, the more my mind began to wonder.  So quiet, such a nice change of pace from the constant footsteps and hushed whisperings in the warehouse.  Its a nice change of pace.  Minus the threat of having your throat torn out at any second.  True, as much as I liked being alone and in silence, I couldn't help but wonder if there was one of those things silently waiting for a fresh snack to stumble into its undead arms, but that's the way of life now.   Reaching the top flight of stairs, I reach for the doorknob and open the door into the abandoned hallway.  Apart from a nice thick layer of dust, this floor looks like it hadn't seen life of any kind for months.  A good sign.  But search anyways.   Fifteen doors on this hall, windows cover the adjacent wall.  "This could take some time." I sigh as I head for the closest door.  Lightly twisting the doorknob, I find that the door is locked.  Skipping it for now, I proceed to check the rest of the doors.  The second through twelfth doors were all locked as well.  Upon reaching the thirteenth door I see the door is cracked open.  Lucky number thirteen, great.  I push the door open and slowly step inside.

       Upon entering the room, I am hit with another wave of decay.  This time not as strong as on the main floor.  Senses on high alert, I check the closet next to me.  Apart from a few jackets and worn out running sh9oes, I find nothing threatening.  Closing the door behind me I proceed down the hallway to the bathroom on the adjacent side.  Completely dark, somehow a small room gave me a serious case of the creeps.  "No way in hell I'm going in there, Ill just shut this door."  I try to sound calm and collected, but I couldn't mask the slight break in my voice.  You can  run down streets filled with the undead, but one small dark room makes you want to turn around and run.  How did you survive?  Ignoring my condescending thoughts, I check the main room, two beds, with nobody or no trace of anyone in here.  As I turn around to head back out I could have sworn I heard something a floor below me.  I shut the door behind me, and ignore the last two doors on the end of the hallway, heading back down the stairwell I came from.  As I make my way down half a flight, I hear it again.  Its a dull thud, definitely coming from the next floor.  Gun raised, I head into the next hallway, waiting for the sound to direct me.  Thump, again, coming from the fourth room.  Here goes nothing champ, hope its not in the bathroom... I open the door and step inside.

       The room shows signs of recent habitation.  The carpet is stained with dirty footsteps coming in and out, and the smell of some kind of chemical is thick in the air.  Walking past the bathroom, which was closed, I see a figure hunched between the two beds.  Gun trained on the body, I slowly head towards it.  She sees me, her pale face awash with terror.  "Who the hell are you?" She winced holding her arm, which was severely  scratched up.
"You, you've been bit haven't you?"  I stammer, my gun now trained in between her eyes.  She sobs, and slowly nods.  She knows what comes next, I close my eyes before continuing.  "I'm sorry, but there is no other way.." Before I can finish my sentence, I feel the barrel of a pistol roughly jammed against the back of my head.  Oh fuck oh fuck ohfuck!  Slowly I raise my hands, gun trained on the ceiling.  "Look, Ill leave, but she WILL turn.  Can you deal with that?"  I ask, I am on the verge of a freak out.
"Let me handle her, besides, is that how you greet people?"  an older male voice spat out.  The barrel no longer on my skull, but Its still aimed at me, that much I do know.  I turn around to see a man in what looked to be his mid thirties, much older than the girl on the floor.  "I don't take very well to anyone pointing a gun at my daughter, so get out of here before I decide to pull the trigger."  I take the opportunity to leave the room and hurry down the stairs. I almost make it to the stairs before I hear his voice again.  "Anna, sweetie, are you feeling better?  You, you need to rest..."  His sentence is cut off by his screams.  I book it back to the room, hoping I wasn't too late

Friday, May 6, 2011

Hotel bound

       We step out into the chill dawn light, ready for anything.  Brock and two others stand at either side, tense and ready for a fight.  "We don't know what we will run into.  If anything happens, we meet back here at dusk."  Brock stares ahead, and turns back before finishing. "Should you find yourself unable to return by then, just find your way to a rooftop, Ive told the watchers to keep an eye out on the rooftops."   I nod, the rest verbally acknowledge Brock as he heads to the gate.  After we step out onto the deserted street, he locks the gate up and takes the lead.  As we head down the street I begin to think to myself, you know, this could be the perfect opportunity to leave.  You know where the boat is at, why not just happen to get 'separated' from the group, wait till night to take the boat north?  You know firsthand how dangerous it is on the streets these days...  I shake the thought away, and pick up my pace to match the rest of the group.  Aside from Brock, I don't know how any of them fare against a group of undead.  I had never scavenged with any of them, so this should be interesting.   "So what are we doing here anyways?  Why are we risking our necks to investigate a light?"  A rather annoyed voice whispered behind me.  I turn around to see the face of our cook.  His face looked like it had been squished into the center of his head.  I never learned his name, but opted to call him squishy face.  Well, not to HIS squishy face.  
"Because, lights mean people.  Unless you think the undead made a fire or learned to use a flashlight."  I didn't even attempt to disguise the healthy dose of sarcasm.  I hear a scoff and nothing more as we make our way up town.

        By the time we reached the building, the light in the sky had lightened considerably since we began.  Our trek so far had been uneventful.  Trash and corpses had been left to rot on the streets.  The smell was fairly unpleasant the further we were from the compound.  The occasional coastal breeze at least cut the smell of rot with the refreshing and somehow calming scent of ocean.  The closer we get to the building I notice all of the bodies around  this building had been executed rather cleanly.  I look at the body of a female zombie in particular.  The front of her skull had been somewhat perfect, if you don't count the grey and patchy skin, except for a tiny hole right between the eyes.  There was somebody here, someone with good aim.  Looking up to the deserted windows, I shudder at the thought of somebody looking at me through a scope.  "We need to hurry inside.  There may be a sniper out here and id hate to be a target."  I whisper, not wanting to draw gunfire and the undead to us.  As I take in the once grand building, I see what I had seen all over.  Failed safe houses.  Dead bodies littered the floor, all half eaten and in various states of decay.  I shutter as the smell of death had intensified the further in we went.
  "All right, look sharp.  Ill stay here as a lookout.  The rest of you, head upstairs and look for the source of light.  Any problems head back down here.  Remember, we head out before dusk."  Brock turned back to the entrance and leaned up against a support pillar.  Well put, Looks like I'm heading up.. 
"Ill take the top five floors, when I'm done Ill come down and let you know what Ive found."  I sigh as my pace picks up and I run towards the stairwell to the side.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Along the ramparts

      The cool spring air fades away as I dart down the stairs and toward Brock's room.  Id rather not wake him, but this may be worth it.  Light of any kind means someone is out there.  As soon as I make my way to the sleeping quarters I begin to tiptoe as to not wake the others.  Creeping between sleeping survivors, I make my way to the door and slowly opening it, as to not make a sound.  Once the door shuts, I whisper out his name.
"Brock, Brock get up!  I got something on the roof I need you to check out."  I wait a moment to see if he responds.  I am met with a light snore, followed by silence.  Getting frustrated, I pick up a half empty waterbottle on the floor and sprinkle it on his face.  Within seconds he is swatting the air with one hand, while wiping the water off with his face with the other.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?  I just got to sleep!"  Moaning as he sits up and focuses on my figure in the darkness.
"We have lights on in a building off towards the coast.  And the dead cant make light..." I trail off hoping he would pick up on the hint.  Wiping his face off as he continued to focus his sight in the darkness he takes a moment ad sighs.  Standing up he grabs his baseball bat and begins to get dressed.
"So were going out huh?  I suppose we are going to need a few more people to come with.  Anybody else awake?"  I nod in agreement as I head to my area to grab my equipment.
       Returning to my corner, I find my cache neatly tucked away.  As I search through my bag, I realize I am running low on ammunition.  With a dissapointing sigh, I leave the shotgun there and strap my pistol and machete down before meeting back with Brock.  "Now, I dont know if the light is still there but Ill show you the building I saw it in."  Explaining as we head back up the roof.  As I make my way over towards the corner where I saw the light, I sigh in relief as it was still there.
  "Well I'll be, its still there.  Which means we have visitors."  Brock chuckles as he rubs the stubble on the side of his face.  Turning around he heads back downstairs continuing, "I'll see who is still awake, keep an eye on the building.  We leave at dawn."  And with that he headed back downstairs.  As soon as he leaves, I grab the chair and bring it to that corner and start my watch.  While I sit, I pull out the pistol and check the remaning ammunition in the clip.  Seven rounds...  Taking off my backpack, I reach in the main pocket, pulling out one of the remaining boxes and begin to reload my clip.  Slamming it back home, I begin to search for spare clips to refill.  Better safe than sorry I suppose.  Beats walking into a fight with an empty gun.  With three clips full, I reholster the gun and examine my blade under the pale moonlight.  Sharp, but adorned with nicks all along the blade.  "I really need to sharpen you, but its too late for that I guess."  Sliding it back into its case, I strap it down nice and tight.  With everything nice and secure, I turn back to the building.  Still burning bright, thats a good sign.
    I begin to feel drowsy as the first strands of daylight came from behind me, which caused a tiny tendril of fear to travel up my spine.  "Its showtime, so much for sleep."  I mutter out loud as I get up and begin to stretch.
"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity."  I hear from behind me, followed my a hearty laugh.  
"I was insane before it was cool.  We ready?"  I ask as I get up and follow them down the stairs.  As we make our way to the entrance I cant help but think of the boat on the pier.  Which isnt too far from the building we are headed to.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Lookout duty

     Several months pass as we silently transform the warehouse into a zombie-proof bastion.  The chain link and been reinforced with sheet metal and wood from within, the outer layer carefully laced with barbed wire.  The back yard had been turned into a make shift garden, growing what we could to replace what supplies were already within.  As I head up to the roof, I prepare for my ten hour shift as lookout for the day.  Since it had warmed up, the dead have been growing in numbers, coming from the west mainly.  I relieve Lucy from her shift,
 "Go on, get something to eat and go to sleep.  You look exhausted."  She nods, opting to grunt in agreement before slowly heading back down the stairs.  Poor woman, shes been night watch for so long.  I think ill take her shift next time so she can see daylight.  Sitting in the chair, I scan the horizons for any immediate threats, only to see a small group head north, following nothing in particular.   Their moans slowly float to the roof as I shudder.  Even to this day that noise gives me the chills.  I light up a cigarette as I walk the perimeter, taking in the deserted scenery once again.  Every time I am up here though, I seem to notice something new.  As I peer towards the coast, I can see the pier.  The thought of continuing north still burns, but I stay for some reason.  Maybe because you owe Brock your life?  Yeah, thanks for saving my life, gotta jet.  Good luck Surviving!  I try to push the though of leaving to the back of my mind for now, but cant help but notice the boat that is still attached to the dock, all alone.  Calling me to it.  
               Time passes and the sun begins to set.  Another slow day,  a blessing for us trapped within these walls.  Part of me feels like I am living in a castle, surrounded by walls and ruled by those willing to take lead. Other days like a prison.  Unable to leave, unless you wanted to be eaten alive.  The last few hours of my shift were always the worst.  When night fell, my visibility fell to a few yards past our fence.  Which meant every little sound sent me jogging over to whichever side I heard it from.  Though tonight was different.   Complete silence, not a moan or any lumbering footsteps could be heard.  But out of the corner of my eye, In a building not too far from ours, I see a flicker of light.  Like a flashlight, but as fast as it appeared it was gone.  Well, at least you have something to report today.  My sarcasm was still in check after all these years I thought as I waited for my relief.  Nothing more left to do, I light one of the few last cigarettes on my body as I wait to tell someone about the light that wasn't too far from our own location.  As I enjoy my smoke break, I hear a crack in the distance, coming from the same building.  Jumping to my feet, almost dropping my smoke, I finish it with a rather heavy drag.  Flicking the butt over the roof as I head downstairs.  Company could be heading our way soon, living or dead.  The moans were beginning to swell as they dumbly began to shuffle towards the origin of the noise.