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...

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

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