User:Shoofle/Journal of Paul

• Wednesday, May 13

I found this book in one of the wards of Fabian General Hospital, in Shuttlebank. I've decided to record my journeys. I set out this morning and marched myself hard from Shore Hills - I forget when I first decided on this particular Odyssey. Maybe I was getting bored keeping watch, fetching food form the supermarket for the other guys back at that safehouse - way back in Old Arkham, where there's never anything at all. I never thought I'd ever be [b]bored[b] in the zombie apocalypse, but, well, there you have it. I am. Well, I was. I got fed up with it, and that's when I flipped off the old fogies at that boarded-up hospital and marched my precious posterior northeast to Shore Hills. I spent a little time waiting - grabbed a few first aid kits from another hospital (they're so down-to-business on the front, it's incredible), a fire axe, and I was on my way. So anyway.

I marched north in the early morning. It was quite the interesting gradient of safety - starting in Shore Hills, where I saw even a few survivors just sitting around outside of buildings. Havercroft was much the same - a little bit more of an air of tension, a little bit more scared, as one would expect from a suburb bordering Barrville. I remember hearing friends telling about how the zombies there have learned to groan out half-coherent sentences, like they had invented some kind of sick language, and they called Barrville "Barhahville" or something - I never believed it until I skirted so close I coul hear them groaning and rattling.

As I trekked on, I found myself traveling through Richmond Hills, where I really started feeling the tension that a zombie-infested city should be full of. My friends of Shore Hills warned me that it was going to be a yellow danger zone, according to the latest survivor maps - how do they communicate so well?? A few zombies were walking around, I think I was lucky and never came across any large hordes. I could definitely hear a zombie groaning no less than a block away, though, every step I took.

Eastonwood, now, Eastonwood taught me about fear. I always thought that I lived a pretty fear-filled life, seeing as how I lived in a zombie-infested, military-quarantined city, but I never realized just how helpful it was that I moved with a safehouse, all at once, staying in green zones. There was a zombie in practically every square - if there wasn't a crowd! I practically sprinted all ten blocks of it, squeezing barely around the zombies a few times. I'm lucky they have such terrible reaction times, or I'd've been mauled to death ten times over. I remember one time when I thought I would have to die or turn back, there were seven zombies in one of the blocks next to me, and six in the other direction, and in all the other directions there were at least three zombies to a square! I managed to get into this completely broken-down store, though, and drop a door across the gap of the alley to the building next door - I couldn't even figure out what it was before the outbreak - but I got out and was past the horde. Can't tell you how terrified I was, nor how glad I was when I found myself at a hospital that still had a survivor entrance marked and open. That's how I found myself at Fabian General Hospital - after milling around, talking to the other survivors there, I found myself an examining room and fell into the deepest sleep I've had since I left Old Arkham.

I woke up a few times to shouts - once when someone walked in in pain (I healed him up) and once when some crazed madman had run in, killed another innocent survivor, and run out! I can't imagine the barbarism, but I grabbed up the radio transmitter and told the city about it. I managed to get back to sleep, though, and this is the second time I've woken - I decided to start writing, calm my nerves a bit. I'm putting the book and pencil down, though, so I can gather my strength for the trip to Raines Hills, which I've heard is pretty safe.