June 13th, 2007

deranged south park me

Zombie blogging

I managed to make it into work. The zombies seem to be converging on the campus area at the moment, but a group has begun to form outside of the building.

We cut off the survivors this morning. Too much of a risk, and there are too many people who are infected. The windows are covered. We had to dismantle the front desk for the lumber, and there are no interior doors left hanging in the building, but we finally managed to board up the windows.

Most everyone is in the gym now. We have a couple of makeshift medical centers set up in the aerobics studio and racketball court. We're fortunate that we have a doctor and three nurses on the premises, but one of the nurses was just bitten, and now she's being forcibly moved into the room where...well, I can't say it.

There are lots of children crying. Some parents too...parents of the kids who were bitten. We had to take them away too. It's just too much of a risk.

I had to come in. People look to us for help. My parents and my brother, his wife, and their child are holed up in the compound down south. Hopefully it'll hold. I last talked to them when they first arrived early this morning, before the cell phone lines got so overcrowded that it was impossible to get through. My phone is dead now, but it doesn't matter.

The moaning outside is getting sickening. We had to restrain my co-worker about half an hour ago. She could hear her husband's voice, groaning above the din of the others.

She's not the first. We've had to lock several people up in a windowless room downstairs. They've all claimed to hear the voices of their loved ones coming from beyond the scratching at the windows. Some of them have gone mad, but not her...the same can be said for several others.

It's hard to find a quiet space in my own head...in the building, it's impossible.

I hope this isn't the apocalypse we've feared.

The rain is coming.

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frodo miles origin unknown

(no subject)

It's fast approaching midnight, and I'm on the road. It turns out that the iron bars we used at work to protect kids from falling down the stairs also make excellent zombie-fighting bludgeoning weapons.

I'm one of only three who made it out alive. The others...we couldn't get them to leave, even when the undead finally broke through the barricades. They all retreated downstairs, into the basement, and locked the doors behind them. There's no way out down there...

I don't want to think about that anymore.

I managed to retrieve my old bow and arrow set from the garage before I took off. I'm a bit rusty, but I've managed to shoot down fifteen of those fuckers so far.

Right now I'm typing this as I fill up my tank at one of the small, out of the way gas stations that clutter the back woods of Oklahoma.

I'm nearly at the compound. I managed to charge my phone with the car charger, and when I put in a call to the compound, I was relieved to hear that everyone was fine and safe and listening to National Public Radio's skeleton (heh) crew giving out the latest news.

And now I travel down a rain-soaked, little known highway, on a night that feels like it will never end. It feels like I'm driving to the end of the world. Hopefully the life that lies before me is still long, even if that life is spent standing on the rough, chipped, pebble-strewn cliffs that stare into the chasm of humanity's extinction.