Journal:JustAnotherConsumer/2009-05-24

How I've stayed alive this long is beyond me.

My buddies and I thought the quarantine would be like a movie - we all went looking for baseball bats and hockey sticks, sat around drinking beer and waiting for the big scary zombie apocalypse.

I think the reality started to set in when the lights in our dorm went out. We were on the sixth floor, so we didn't hear them shambling down the corridor until the next day.

I'll never forget those sounds. Nails scrabbling on the metal door. Wet, pulpy thuds as they hammered through our blockades.

I remember a loud cracking noise. Nate yelled that they were through, and I just broke. Didn't even see them before I went scrambling down the fire escape.

Ran and ran and ran until I thought my lungs would burst. Almost ran right into one of those... things in a graveyard.

I still had my hockey stick; my knuckles felt like they would tear through the skin, the way I was gripping it.

I held it up, and shouted at that thing to stay away.

"Mrh?"

I swung my stick, total whiff over the guy's head.

"Mrh?"

Half his face was missing, but I swear he looked confused. Sad, even.

I brought my stick down on his left shoulder; he shuddered a little but kept staring straight at me.

It must have taken him a moment to process what was happening. We just stood there, staring at each other, until something in his eyes shifted.

"GRAAAAGH!"

He took a swipe at my left forearm, and I let go of my stick. I turned to run and went tumbling over a headstone. My arm screamed in pain as I struggled to stand up, and I ended up face down in the mud.

I scrambled to my feet and started running again.

Been scared and totally aimless after that, until I ended up in Ephrem Hospital one night.

When I woke up, someone had put a blanket over me. Never found out who.

I spent a couple hours scrounging up bandages and painkillers for myself, but I couldn't help noticing the weary, bloodied faces coming in for shelter. The scars on my forearm still ached from that first night, but there were so many others who looked way worse.

I helped patch up three people before running out of bandages. By the time I'd rebuilt my stash, I didn't want to leave.

I settled into a groove for a couple days. Search for supplies, ask the newcomers who was hurt, patch them up and talk a little. I could almost sleep for more than a couple hours again.

The barricades came down yesterday, while I was sleeping. Four people were already dead by the time I knew what was happening.

I knew I couldn't fight. So I did what I knew I could do. I ran. First place I could get into was Hitchens Towers. That was where I met Sharline and Craig; I'd blundered into the Tactical Area Rescue headquarters. I've been with them ever since.

That's my story. I'm nobody special. But maybe I can help a little.

--JAC, 2009-05-24, Wyke Hills