October 12th, 2009
Today has been a day of firsts. Not just for me, but for the world.
Today, the medical community recognized the threat of the infection publicly for the first time. They had tried to keep it under wraps, of course, but you can’t contain something like that. Fear and panic do strange things to people.
Today, the government sealed off the island for the first time. Everything fell under the quarantine, and nothing and no-one will be coming in or getting out.
Today, I fired a shotgun for the first time. I stole it from my father’s house, and, though he had taught me how to hold it, I had never been able to pull the trigger.
Today, I killed a man for the first time. If you can call the thing I killed a man, at least. The media has been throwing these monsters at us for years now, but even still I’m shocked at my lack of hesitation.
And today… today I feel truly alone for the first time in my life.
I look up from the diary. I remember that day, too, and how easy it had been for the world to desert us. We were just one small island in a large country, and it was easy to lock us away behind caution tape.
Of course, the quarantine wasn’t complete. People did get out, especially those who were deemed valuable to the resistance effort. And some who arguably weren’t.
And that’s what sickens me the most: being told that, because I didn’t have the degree or the money, I wasn’t worth saving. Fucking bastards.
I listen to the body-filling thrum of the spinning rotors.
She was right, about the media. How long ago had the first zombie film been released? And how many had been released in the years following? Who’d of thought that our sick fantasies would show up hungry at our doorstep?
I sigh, and dive into the life of Olivia Penn once more.
October 13th, 2009
Day two of hell on earth. I had always pictured such a thing as filled with fire and demons and screaming. Instead, I am pursued by the corpses of people I know through the streets that I call Home.
The screams are there, though.
I’m still alone. I don’t think I can trust anyone enough to leave my life in their hands. It’s stupid, I know, but I feel like I’m the only one who can hope to protect myself from those creatures.
Speaking of, they’re not like we thought they’d be, as we saw them in the movies. They move just as fast as they did when alive, but are also limited by their human bodies: damage to any of their major organs seems to kill them, still.
They do, however, dislike the sun. Most people have taken to walking in the middle of the road if they need to get somewhere, since the creatures will leap from the dark buildings to quench their hunger. I would know: I’ve seen it.
I don’t want to end up like that.
October 12th, 2009