Part Two - The Living and The Dead
March 9, 2011
Crap. I really thought it was the end. But it isn't; it's only the beginning. Darn it. Well, we just got off the boat and walked up the hills, and guess what we found. A downtown city - wait for it - destroyed and infested by zombies. Yeah, can't wait to get down there. Oh, and here's what it looks like:
[Picture 22 - DOWNTOWN CITY MAP] drawings/d/1cK-kM-5ugulyOnsYaFR4dCbm8gQcGab08VIoBx05XpU/edit
Later -
We've just set up camp. Looks like tomorrow is going to be nasty. But we survived the other town, so maybe this one won't be much harder. We'll just have to wait and see.
Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you about our new allies. Now there are seven of us (that's two more men, yes!). There is:
[Picture 23 - FRANCIS] drawings/d/12YFqkaIwVxBT1KHaq28ngU9xN2Qr6EoLgqP1WvXIyd0/edit
Francis - A biker dude. Nothing much to say about him. Other than he's rough, tough, and he hates pretty much everything.
[Picture 24 - TOM] drawings/d/1PAAtnZ1Yrw0ehRITdfKI4mNHm0xPENP7g458NLMWDoY/edit
Tom - A well-organized guy. This is a person you can trust in a time like this. He kind of reminds me of someone... I don't know.
March 10, 2011
I just woke up. It was raining all night. We have two portable tents, but they don't do hardly anything against the wind and precipitation. Anyway, we are heading down to the town in a few hours.
Later -
I guess we're heading out now. Hold on. What the? Oh no. A horde. Time to lock and load. But... We're low on ammo. I hope we -
March 14, 2011- Entry: Snake
It was terrible. They... they took him. The horde was unstoppable. We couldn't fend it off. Alas, we lost a comrade. In the end of it all, when we thought we'd escape, there was no sign of him... No sign of Fox. This was the largest and most aggressive horde I - and my team - have seen.
Later -
After the attack, my team decided to find our bearings and move on. We spent hours looking for Fox, but it was hopeless. I've decided to continue this journal. It's the only thing I have left to remember Fox... to remember not just a survivor, but a brother. He dropped his journal in the fight, so after I saw he was gone I picked it searched for him for four days, and now I decide I should write. It's about time to start a fire and make camp. We will stop by the river. Tom and Dusk get the first watch. Shadow and Francis with the 2nd. Louis and I take the last. An hour and a half for each watch. I'm getting hungry. It's going to be mushrooms and frogs we found near the river.
March 15, 2011
My head's throbbing. Once I woke up, I took a pain pill, but I'm still in pain. I'm tired anyway. The team will head out when we're ready. I'll write more tomorrow.
[Picture 25 - PILLS] drawings/d/1Y92lG_iwhtVspkiYEzBzqiMXRIiNGXppma_mJEIS2wA/edit
March 16, 2011
The last two days have been tough. No mercy from the undead. A lot of rough terrain. Fox is still gone.
Later -
I've had a lot of time to think today. It's surprisingly quiet. Anyway, I came up with a prototype for an assault vehicle. It's just an idea, but it would help us out a lot if we could find the parts to build this. Just an idea...
[Picture 26 - PROTOTYPE VEHICLE] drawings/d/1lx5dLWalMu5kZrFHcXfamDM2XKYSh91XwuN7dhBdfsY/edit
[Picture 27 - SOUNDWAVE] drawings/d/1y4Hdv4-sdra1fbKxYXiD1fZjwy_7l8Kj8EgHmnaWo4A/edit
March 17, 2011
As Tom and Dusk were out looking for a good place to shelter for a break, the rest of the group heard something.
"What was that?" I heard Louis mutter. "Is it a -"
"A lawn-mower," I finished.
"Well who would want to mow their lawn in this type of situation?!" Shadow said. Just as we heard it start, the sound suddenly died out. A thick, piercing cry filled our ears. Then, once again, the sound ended.
"What should we do?" pondered Francis.
"Move towards it. Get Dusk and Tom first. We will examine what remains," I commanded. I decided to check it out. We'll see what we find.
Later -
It wasn't good. A lawn mower had been used to decapitate a mangled body lying in a corner of a small garage. We couldn't define whether it had been living or undead - the skin that was left was cold and clammy. It was slightly pale. The lawn mower was clogged with - of course -a head, or what was left. Blood dropped from the walls. A heavy odor soured our nostrils. We couldn't find any useful items. I ordered everyone to head out. I was sure the body wasn't Fox because it was wearing overalls, not Fox's military jacket. I can't help feeling that Fox was here. If he was...
Personal Note: The cake is a lie.
March 20, 2011
We continued our search for the last few days through an infested town. If Fox was here, he would set out towards the small city just 16 miles from our location. The group decided last night that we should attempt to move in that direction.
March 21, 2011 - The City
The group saw the first sign of the city at about 15:00 (15:00 = 3:00 p.m.) There was a motel and a small coffee shop. No coffee, unfortunately. We headed down a road that led to a highway. Francis was relieved. "About time we found it," he said. I explained where we were going. Right now we are at an intersection taking a break. I'll write more when I can.
Later - The Houses
We headed out towards a group of scattered houses. The houses, or at least the exteriors, were in great condition. "This is an ideal location to set up a safehouse for a while," commented Tom.
"And a great place to find Fox," I added. We looked around.
"Look!" shouted Dusk. "A campfire!" We all turned to see a few pieces of charred, burned wood stacked and arranged in a traditional-style campfire position. There were holes in the ground, as if a tent had been set up.
"Hmm, that means there's gotta be a survivor," Shadow queried.
"Yes," I answered, "and there's footprints in the ground going South." We headed towards the footprints, when we heard the sound of rustling.
"Down," Dusk told the others. We got on our knees. The sound stopped.
"Snake?" a familiar voice questioned. I looked around. I couldn't tell who it was.
"Shadow, was that you?" I asked him.
"No, not me," he answered. I was confused. Then I saw a figure rise from the bushes. It was carrying a .45 caliber pistol and wearing a beret. And out of these facts I knew. I rose to my feet. Tears stung my eyes.
"Fox!" It was him. My teammates followed me towards him. He was cut and scarred, but alive. And now I can say, out of what I've endured, my greatest companion and comrade - my brother - fights alongside me until Z-day is over - forever.
March 21, 2011- Entry: Fox
Well... I'm back. I thought I wouldn't survive. I'm tired, bruised, and scarred. I need rest. I'm going to write more tomorrow.
[Picture 28 - PEOPLE WITH ME] drawings/d/1wC-QE4lcOFvC3dMwPcjtygM4QFLmxnjCM0tbenNyxe8/edit
March 22, 2011
I feel much better. The guys gave me a few extra hours of sleep, so I am well rested. So anyway, I read over what my brother had written in my journal while I was gone, and I have to say, he is a good writer. But I noticed something. It fit exactly to my story. I told the crew about what happened to me, and they told me how they followed my tracks to find me. Here is my story:
We had to start fighting immediately, so I didn't have time to finish the sentence I had on the tenth of March. They surrounded us in seconds, clawing and screaming as they tried to overpower us. All of a sudden I tripped and fell down a steep hill. The rocks scraped me up pretty good, but I knew I had to make it up the hill before the zombies killed my whole team. It took me awhile to get up, but once I did I was shocked. I saw nobody. There was a lot of dead zombies, but my comrades were missing. Even my journal was gone. I searched for awhile, and I only found a couple of stray zombies (which I killed).
Then I realized something. We were going to head over to the city today. Oh no. Maybe they already left. But - I can't stay here. I have to keep moving.
So, I headed west. I went through a lot of woods and really steep hills. Once I exited the woods, I saw a few houses, along with a trailer park and a prison. I found a lawn mower (luckily it had gasoline) and some canned fruit. Then, I heard a strange sound behind me. Without thinking, I pulled the cord to turn on the lawn mower, and I swung the mower around with all my might, chopping the monster up into little pieces. He tried to grab me, but he had no chance. I swung one final time, beheading it. Blood stained the walls. I looked down at what was left. I saw shredded overalls.
I heard another noise off in the distance, and I knew I had to get out fast. I don't know which way I went, I just ran. A few miles later I found a group of houses, so I decided to stay there for the night. The next two days I looked for supplies, but found nothing, except survival food. It was mostly just plants, and a squirrel I killed with my handgun. I cooked the squirrel after I skinned and gutted it, then I ate the whole thing. I had to set up a campfire, because the ovens in the houses were either broken or removed. I sheltered in a portable tent just outside of one of the houses.
The next morning I decided to head south. Just as I made my way away from the houses, I heard rustling. Crap. I hid for a minute and thought. Could it be?
"Snake?" I asked. I heard voices. Then I knew it was them. I rose to my feet, still holding my gun that I thought I would have to use.
"Fox!" my brother said. My squad came forward and we went back to the houses. They let me recover, and here we are, at the end of my story.
March 24, 2011
Well, today we are making our way to the supermarket to get some more supplies (hopefully food, water, batteries, flashlights, glow sticks, guns, knives, ammunition, sleeping bags, etc.) and look for ways out of this "Downtown Deathtrap". We're thinking of a pickup truck with a trailer attached, so we can hold all of our supplies, but we only need enough supplies for a few days, so we can get to a refugee camp until the end of the infection. Until - until we find a cure. Or until we kill every last one of them.
Later -
We just made it to the supermarket. Looks pretty beat up. There's a lot of the undead around here. Some of them don't even notice us, and when they do... they don't even bother attacking us. It's kinda like - like they're staring through us.
You would think that with all the movies I've seen I'd be ready for an attack or something, but there was nothing. Not a sound, except for the cool wind passing by and of course, our slow, steady breaths along with the thumping of our hearts.
Just before we were done searching the area, we saw something. "Um... guys," Luis slowly said, pointing to a nearby streetlight.
"Oh, no," I said in response to what I saw. I saw a man, not a zombie, a man. He had hanged himself on the streetlight.
"He must have known they were coming," Francis announced.
Afterward - Supermarket
Just got in the store a few minutes ago. My squad searched around or a couple of minutes, and I decided to draw. I wanted to get the image right, so it took me a couple of minutes, but here it is:
[Picture 29 - ZOMBIE] drawings/d/1fTRZ5x4o4EeqZ_85jM9UIZUY5gRIHJr0gkcbs-g0hcE/edit
- Anyway, my team didn't find hardly anything, except a box of crackers, some old newspapers, and a bag of rice. We made a fire, then boiled the rice, which we ate with the crackers.
"We won't last long without finding shelter," Luis said.
"He's right," I commented. "It's getting dark." So after our meal we agreed to look for a safe house. After walking a couple of miles, we found a house that looked to be in good shape. Tom and Francis cleared the neighborhood of any infected, while Dusk, Shadow, Snake, and I were boarding up the house with plywood and nails. Luis was outside starting a fire.
After warming up from the fire, we went inside, locked the door, and went to bed. Finally! A good night sleep after a long day. Well, hopefully.
Nighttime, 4:47 a.m.
Woke up to the sound of zombies tearing apart the barricades that we set up just a few hours ago. We had to kill them before they broke in, so we stumbled over to the "zombified" and "eliminated the hostiles".
"Be quit, flesh addicts!" Francis yelled as he blasted the remaining undead into little pieces.
"Give it a break, Francis," Tom said as he was about to lay down for the night.
"Yeah," Shadow continued. "Those monsters' brains probably have the viscosity of yogurt, so screaming at them won't help anything."
March 26, 2011
I haven't written for a couple of days now. We are just heading east, to the school. Soon after the infection started, it was turned into an Immediate Disaster Relief Shelter, or I.D.R.S. The hundreds of people who took refuge there suddenly disappeared; they probably got wiped out.
So anyway, we just passed the supermarket, and we are getting close to passing the gas station. I'll write some more once we get to the school.
Later -
We have made it to the school, and it's pretty much deserted. Snake found a sign taped on the front of the school doors. It read: "No Chance of Survival". The paper was really beat up, and the handwriting wasn't much better.
"'No Chance of Survival'," Snake read. After examining the area and having a quick meal of stale biscuits, the team and I headed into the school.
"Pretty freaky," Dusk whispered softly.
"Pretty dark," I commented. "Let's turn our flashlights on." So we turned on our super strong LED lights that are attached to our guns by duct tape, rubber bands. or whatever other materials that we could find that is long, thin, and hopefully durable. We searched the area and found an ammo crate with a couple of shotgun shells and assault rifle clips, but not much more. In a few minutes we will leave the school to move east, towards, well - I don't exactly know. None of us do. We just hope that -
"Oh, no. He's gone," Luis said. "They took Francis!"
"What?" I was confused and dazed at what happened; it was so quick. There - there was a horde. They broke into the school like hungry dogs bent on destruction and chaos. It was a nightmare.
I was firing as fast as I could, but it was useless. We had to run. I didn't look back until I burst through the school's doors. I waited for everyone to rejoin me, but Francis was gone.
"Where is he?" I asked with sudden fear that our teammate was dead.
"I saw him following us," explained Tom. "He's gone by now. Come on guys, let's keep moving. The horde's right behind us." We ran for what seemed like hours, taking breaks here and there. Once we get to the road, we will follow it to the next town, and if we're lucky, we will find survivors - and someday - maybe even a cure.
[Picture 30 - NO CHANCE] drawings/d/1QhkKLgg5IATLKUKSThZgFV07Alnr52I9JgzlpxEU_ss/edit
[Picture 31 - PROPANE TANK] drawings/d/1L0TRj0hOo1I5af5mcmtJUMj6O7AQ5C3RoS-0EtsPvDU/edit
March 27, 2011
Have you ever felt as if you're being watched? I don't know; probably just my imagination. But still - there's something about this road...
Later -
Snake said we should go look for new equipment at some local electronics store. We've just entered a new gate. So instead of a big town with a bunch of stores and houses, we're near the woods/country land. Err... whatever you call it. So by the way, there doesn't seem to be as much zombies as the other - What... the...
"What is that?" Snake questioned.
"I have no idea," I answered. "But I think it's -"
"It's looking at us," Luis interrupted. Right then the creature lunged at us, and I barely had time to pull out my combat knife before the monster tackled me, sending both of us sprawling down a steep hill. The thing was on top of me, trying to dig its teeth into my flesh. I had lost control of my knife (it was only a few inches away from my reach) and was now trying to shove the creature away from me. And then - I saw its face.
[Picture 32 - MONSTER] drawings/d/1PW_CSN2f-KyUSNO_wUdURtdoNcCRR-P9w5LFIhI1eA0/edit
- It was ugly, no doubt. It had pale and clammy skin like any normal zombie, but this one was different; It seemed like just skin and bone, and the little demon crawled on the ground, where they can strike at you when you aren't looking. And suddenly... it bit me. I let out a hoarse cry of pain, and I grasped my knife with my hand and I thrust it into the creature's throat. It was instantly dead, but its mouth was still dug in my left arm. I groaned in pain as I ripped out its teeth from my flesh. The I cleaned my blade and made it up the hill, clutching my arm.
"What happened?" asked Shadow in shock as I rejoined my friends.
"It's dead," I replied. For a second they were relieved to know that it was done for, but as soon as they saw my arm, the group feared the worst.
"Oh no," Luis whispered. "This doesn't mean -"
"No," Dusk interrupted. "He's not - he won't..." he started to break down. "You can't die, Daniel," he finished, addressing me by my real name.
"I'll be fine, Dusk," I said in a saddened voice. "I just need rest."
Nighttime, 2:33 a.m.
So after I got wounded Tom patched me up with a medkit, and we finally got to the electronics store, where we set up camp. We didn't find much, other than a broken radio, some money (about $127), and an IPOD Touch - with no battery. Man, if it could only work, then it could pass the time...
March 28, 2011
It's getting worse. My arm stings like heck, it's oozing you don't want to know what, and the flies. They keep on buzzing and swarming like the pests that they are. Honestly - I don't know if I'm going to make it. This may be the end.
April 1, 2011
I haven't been able to write for a few days because of my sickness. Also I have been kept in quarantine, in case... never mind. Anyway - I've been throwing up a lot and my arm is swollen to the size of a softball. I can't write anymore today; my arm is killing me - literally.
[Picture 33 - COUNTRY MAP] drawings/d/1xtiDpxpLjTrcj25SKgVsIUdg55gcVGvvImHtd5iyAPI/edit
Personal Note: Find a safe house! You can't fight forever. Also, find more survivors. Get all the help you can.
April 3, 2011
I've survived a couple more days. I don't know how much longer it will take for me to turn; I can't even imagine becoming one of those things. They just rip each other apart. They have no pain, no mercy. All they do is kill.
I don't want to admit it, but I am beginning to feel like one of them. In only about a week's time, my pain was already numbing itself away. So when my nervous system was shutting down, I began to feel strange. Every passing minute seemed like an hour, and I began to become enraged - with the infected, the infection, or just myself was unclear to me, but I would find myself destroying some of our electrical equipment with my bare hands, until they were just big piles of twisted metal and wires, and I would look down to see my hands all bloody and mangled.
So you can see things aren't going too well for me. I think it's too late for my friends to find a cure. Well, I guess this is the end for me. I guess I couldn't make it out alive.
April 5, 2011
The virus has spread throughout my entire body. It's only a matter of days before I turn. I... I can't write any more today.
April 6, 2011
My team decided to go out on patrol - without me. They are still looking for any hope of a vaccine, but I think my body is too sick to recover from my disease, so it's close to worthless. I still can't believe I survived this long.
Besides me being infected, my team of six is doing very well. In fact, they've already set up a makeshift defensive base. Although it is a little crude, it's surprisingly effective as a one-time kind of fortification. Even though the fort has a small area (only about seven feet in diameter - just enough room to fit all of us, the campfire, and our few supplies together), it could most likely defend us against a horde with little to no problems. On the outside, there is a nine foot deep ditch surrounding the camp, and down there the group put very sharp wooden stakes around the fort. Last, we put up a six foot tall barbed-wire fence. That means there is only one reasonable way to get in or out of our base - the gate.
Well, I really should call it their base. I'm still in quarantine. They lock the gate every time before they leave the fort or before they go to sleep. But this time... this time I have the key.
[Picture 34 - MOLOTOV] drawings/d/1HCb-wB71-Wdu_AzdDdvHkxHxZ1qOns4V8jPPuiQMJNw/edit
Later -
After I switched the gate key with a decoy (this was before they left, but after they locked the gate) it wasn't hard to steal the real key. Almost as soon as the group left, I unlocked the gate, went inside, and locked the gate back up. Now no one could get in or out but me - except if they broke their way through the steel fence/gate, or by getting ripped apart by the barbed-wire fence and wooden stakes.
So if you're wondering why I am locking myself in from the outside world, I have two explanations:
1)I'm tired of being treated like one of the infected. It's time my "friends" get taught a lesson about how hard it is to stand beingsurrounded by hundreds of hungry undead every night and not knowing if you might wake up the next morning to find yourself as one of the infected.
2)I'm afraid that if I wait any longer... the group will put me out of my misery. They'll kill me before I turn. Those are the reasons I've locked myself in here. Better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry better safe than sorry better safe than sorry better safe than -
Afterward - Fortification Gate
"Better safe than sorry, better safe than sorry..." I whispered to myself continuously.
"Fox?!" Snake appeared at the entrance to the gate. "What are you doing? How did you get in there?" He was more worried than he was confused. Then he grabbed the decoy key, inserted it into the lock, and tried to turn it - but to no effect.
"What the -" Snake was shocked.
"It's useless!" I exclaimed. "I swapped out the key with a counterfeit. Now only I can get in or out of the fortification. I wanted to lock myself in here ever since... ever since I received the infection!" I spat out that word like it was a disease - oh wait - never mind.
"I - I think we've found it. I think we've found the cure."
"Wha - No. No, it's not possible. There is no cure!"
"Snake!" Tom ran up to my brother with Dusk's hunting rifle. He whispered something to Snake that I could not hear, but I could vaguely read his lips. As Tom was handing my brother the rifle, he said to my brother: "It's loaded."
"I'm sorry, brother," Snake said before raising the rifle, aiming, and pulling the trigger.
[Picture 35 - THE CURE] drawings/d/1aqOR0CmxfcSQySHUpw5-OHbIa61Unk0BslyyTsVknhY/edit
April 9, 2011
What happened? What have I become? If we had waited any longer... I could have actually become a zombie. I'm just glad to still be alive. My arm is still sore, but - I know it's healing. The cure is really working.
Speaking of the cure, how did we get it? Well, once the group left, they found a working computer in a nearby electronics store - the same one I mentioned on the twenty seventh of March. They discovered a downloaded file on the computer that suggested that Dr. Jon Ross, from Revolutionary Science Lab and Bio-Medical Research, found a cure during his research on biological mutation.
Once my team figured out the correct materials needed for the cure, all they needed to do was (this part was happening while Snake was talking to me) insert the cure into a tranquilizer dart, put the dart into Dusk's hunting rifle, and then shoot me with it.
After I fell unconscious, they managed to lock-pick the gate open. They tended to my wounds and let me rest. My friends saved my life; I'll never forget that.
April 12, 2011
I've finally recovered. Today we are moving out towards the farmland to try summoning a rescue of some sort. We might just make it out this time, but you can never be too hopeful. Anyway, right now we are packing up all of our supplies from our fortification and - we have a long walk ahead of us. Better get moving.
Later -
We've set up a small but useful camp. A few minutes ago the team and I entered a swampy area a little bit off from a lake, and also near the woods. Tom and I went hunting, and we caught a fairly large snake and a few frogs. After we cooked them up, we ate them. The frogs were fine, although the snake was just plain tough. Soon we will take three hour long shifts to guard the camp while our companions rest.
Afterward - Swamp
So Tom and I were on guard duty, while our companions struggled to obtain as much rest as possible. The first two hours held no surprises, save for a few hillbilly zombies who became quick friends with our ammunition - instead of eating brains they ate lead.
Now about twenty-eight minutes before the end of our shift, things got a little weird. These "swampy mudmen," an uncommon infected with muddy camouflage, crept up on us in the swamp-waters, trying to confuse us by flinging mud at us and leading other zombies behind them. Not that a good ol' machete swing couldn't do anything to their rotten necks.
April 13, 2011
I've just had the most bizarre dream last night. I was running through a series of oddly shaped rooms - don't know exactly why, I just was - when I came upon a sturdy metal table. And on the table gently sat a miraculous wonder - lo! it was cake! Chocolate frosting covered chocolate cake - a rich, decadent delicacy I thought I could never live without. Covered with ripe red cherries (about eight) in a circle around a single lit candle in the center, it seemed to just beg: "eat me."
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a computerized mechanical female voice startled me out of my daydreaming inside of my dream. "Congratulations on completing your tests." In my dream I think the "tests" refer to whatever I was doing in the previous rooms, but in real life I think of it as the journey of events on which this book/journal accounts.
"Although your companion (maybe my weapons, supplies, or friends?) has been a faithful ally, it (or they) cannot accompany you any longer, and must be euthanized. Please escort your companion to the emergency incinerator before any cake is received." What Give up my weapons, supplies, or even my companions for a chocolate cake? I was just about to make my decision and try to escape, and for some reason I felt as if there would be an epic boss-battle or something - but just then I woke up.
Trying to explain the situation to Shadow was useless. All I got was a blank, cold stare and no response. Then he said quietly, "Keep this to yourself. Tell no one."
[Picture 36 - CAKE] drawings/d/1C1Fr0DZCAZXn4R3cveAoxNeh-aWNXlBicy8hJ8k883Y/edit
April 15, 2011
We should reach the farmland by tomorrow. But first we will pass by the water tower, to use our radio to call a rescue of some sort, so that we can get the heck out of this nightmare. The water tower is the highest point in the area, and since there is such bad reception anyway, it's our best chance of contacting anyone.
[Picture 37 - WATER TOWER] drawings/d/1tV3Y2i13XMPhNpg94rM7_tNybLXLwsyVDyKAbr-x3uc/edit
Later - Water Tower
We've just reached the water tower a few minutes ago, and we scaled the rusty old tower with a snail's pace. It seemed like years before we made it to the summit. We tried to turn on the radio, but it soon lost power. Everyone's hopes were crushed, but nobody spoke.
Then Luis broke the silence: "Who forgot to put in the spare batteries?" There was a long void of quietness, then Dusk shuffled through his backpack, and finally acquired two bulky, ancient batteries in the palm of his hand. Then we felt relieved.
After Dusk installed the batteries, Shadow told Dusk sarcastically, "Allen, now don't be a derp."
"Hey," Dusk replied, "how am I supposed to know to replace the batteries, you're the one carrying the radio."
So once we heard something on the radio other than static, we stopped talking to listen.
"What is it?" I wondered.
"Can't quite make it out," Tom listened intently to the radio. "Wait," he spoke softly. "Do you hear that?" I couldn't hear much between static, but it was definitely a rescue.
"Can you hear us?" Snake was contacting help. After a confirmed "yes" we described our location and told them to pick us up early the next morning at the Farmhouse. I really hope they come - there was a lot of static interference - otherwise we're dead. Well - undead.
[Picture 38 - FARMLAND] drawings/d/1bVh0nxSO-ef_cEwG4K7ofUbldJuoAJImWvu2iL1TVZ4/edit
April 16, 2011 - Farmland, Final Destination
I've experienced many disasters during the events of this journal - some of which I could not write of - but none of them can compare to the devastating horrors of the rescue at the Farmland.
We arrived at the farmhouse around 5:30, before sunrise. Since the rescue wouldn't get us until 7:00 or 7:30, we decided to barricade the house and obtain some much-needed rest. At approximately 6:15 a.m, I was awoken to a peculiar banging sound on the glass window of the bedroom we were huddled in.
"Snake!" I whispered desperately. But before I said anything, he was already up. We awoke the others, then quickly escaped the farmhouse to find swarms of undead engulfing the entire Farmland. I ran out of shotgun ammo on the way here, so I had to use my trusty Colt .45, but as I reached for a fresh clip, I found nothing. Just then my worst fears slipped through my mind of having no ammunition - I realized that this may be the end.
Then - it came. It was the strongest, most terrifying thing I have ever seen. These "Tanks" are built like machines, with huge muscles that can withstand incredible amounts of firepower.
"Concentrate your fire!" Dusk commanded.
"I'm out!" I responded.
"Here ya go," Luis walked up to me, before handing me an antique (but still usable) ninja katana. Right then I felt strength flowing back to me - the kind of strength that makes you want to survive, no matter what stands in your way.
"Don't shoot," I told my companions. "I got this." The tank noticed me in front of the other survivors - sword in hand - and without any sign of fear on my face, the monster went after me in a rage. I kept my ground. As soon as it was closing in, I ran on the side of the nearby tractor (yes, like a ninja) and leaped off. In mid air I swung the katana with all my strength, before returning to Earth with a soft landing. The beast's body fell with a tremendous thud!, although it was missing its head. I sheathed the bloody blade as the waves of undead unexpectedly died down.
After a few moments of dead silence, Luis pointed towards the sky, yelling, "It's here! The rescue's here!" As we raised our heads towards the oncoming helicopter, we knew this was the real end; we knew that we will survive. Once the chopper landed, we began boarding the vehicle. Luis and I were the last to get in, when the pilot announced that there was only enough room for one more passenger.
I was shocked. "What? No! Can't we do something -"
Luis knew that one of us would have to stay behind, so he simply told me: "Go."
I realized I couldn't change his mind; I replied, saying: "It has been an honor."
"The honor has been mine." Then I withdrew a Molotov from my backpack, and handed it to Luis. I tried giving the katana back, but he told me to keep it. "Oh yeah," he added, "remember to spell my name with an 'o'."
We took off, and the helicopter pilot saluted our friend before flying westward. I glanced back to see our comrade being approached by three tanks. He threw the lit Molotov, before the monsters rushed in - I couldn't watch any more.
We are heading towards a new life; things will never be the same. Goodbye, my friend. Goodbye, Louis.
[Picture 39 - TANK] drawings/d/1emJmxi-GL4tCwZrCzI17VA1yw_FixnvOvXD3Uk68lZk/edit
THE END
or IS it?