Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:26pm

- Transmission from mjporreca

I meant to write in the morning, but things haven’t slowed down until now. It’s funny, before this happened I would have thought that people would be busier at night. But, there is more to in the daylight. Gather, build, recon, plan. And the dead don’t care if its night or day, they come when they come.

That first night we had our tripwire alarms set and the cars pointed in every direction. Six of us stayed out on guard. Most of the wives and all kids were in the one house we could board up the best. We expected a hoard. The plan was simple, if we stay alive out here, they stay alive inside. I wouldn’t be able to live if the people in that house didn’t survive the night. So for me, there really was no choice, and I know I wasn’t alone in that. At around 10 pm the first trip wires went off. As soon as the rattle of the pebbled filled tin cans started, Janet ran to the Honda minivan that was pointed down the street and flipped on the lights. The creature just kept trying to walk forward. Not realizing it had heavy twine wrapped around both ankles. We all watched him…it. I almost felt like it would be rude to shoot before it figured out what happened and as able to come towards us. Everyone else must have felt the same, or were too terrified to shoot. That’s when Buster came out. Janet and Tom’s Lab something mix. He bolted out from their backyard. Buster was all snarls and teeth. I’d never seen him like that. He charged straight at the corpse, sinking his teeth deep into the neck. Janet screamed, “No!” and tried to call him back. That’s when we all learned what these zombies could do. Instead of flailing in pain or collapsing like a normal person; it darted both hands back in an unnatural way. Then it stood. It raised straight up with a 50 pound dog hanging on its neck like Buster wasn’t even there. Then in a way that looked like it should have dislocated its shoulders it lifted Buster over its head, breaking the dogs grip and taking out a hunk of neck and shoulder. The zombie, quicker than I thought it could move, bit right into Buster’s side. Ribs, fur, and muscle didn’t slow it down. It ripped Buster open then with tore him in half. Blood dropped out of the torn body as thing began to feast with both hands full. Taking gulping bites like a great white shark. I only heard Janet’s scream for an instant. I filled the night with shot from my PTR-91. The .308 round left only a sliver of shoulder holding up the zombie’s right arm. The second shot missed completely. The third, took off the right side of its head from the ear up. I’m starting think my 3rd shots really are the charm. While the creature fell everyone else opened up. We must have wasted 50 rounds between on that first one. Looking back, we need to learn some discipline, or we won’t last long.

Janet was done for the night after that. Tom took her inside and their 17 year old son took over the headlight job. He said to some degree he felt like it was payback. We didn’t mind, as long as it helped him. Five more came that night. We didn’t hesitate on one of them.

The sun came up. I thought I’d be tired, but it energized me. We felt safer, less alone with the sun up. On some level I know we aren’t, but I’ll take it. We restrung the alarms and strengthened some of the barricades. We have plenty of food, water, and supplies to last a little while. We are all grateful for that.
The sun is down again. We hear firing in the distance and see flashes of light out near the elementary school. There is not enough light to know what’s going on. I’ll cling to the hope that we will know more tomorrow.

- End of Transmission