Sept. 21, 2009 - 3:45 PM

THE GENERATOR IS BACK ONLINE


Dear God, at Sept. 1st 12:02am. The Husky 5000w generator finally failed on us. Running 24-7, I knew it was only matter of time.

I was going through the inventory from my excursion outside a few days before. Suddenly *Blink* the lights turned out, and I heard on of the loudest sounds of my life, the generator powering down. It made this low oscelating electric pitch that shifted lower and lower untill it was silent.

I stood there in the garage, pitch black darkness around me. It took some time in that blackness to fully comprehend the ramifications of my situaton.

Without power all normal life ceases to exist. It took me 30 days (nights are useless without power) to rebuild what was broken. A simple piston ring, a $24.99 part, put us back in the dark ages. After 2 weeks of trying to repair a impossible task, I knew we had to develop a new solution. It was my beutifull wife who came up with the stunning idea of trying to convert the engine from my "Toro" lawnmower into the engine for the generator. Without her, I would be nothing.

The Dead are rampant in the streets, and the endless drone they make pierces our walls, into our ears and almost into our very souls. That underlying smell of death. They line the streets like cancers cells flowing through human veins. Pounding and bumping into whatever they wish. Some are fresh, others... God, it is almost to much to describe.

There are some that can full on SPRINT fast. I have seen a number of them. Those are the ones that haunt my dreams and my reality.

As well as trying to fix the generator, I have had to deal with them. The dead that do not stray away from our house. I do not wish for my wife to have to stair down the sights into one of those things, it is a burden I want to bear for as long as possible. The images those things burn into your mind do not disappear. I CANNOT afford them knowing we are hear. It did not take me long to realize, it is the destruction of the central nervous system that can only take these down. but why? why are they even here?

It is in the dead of night in which it must be done. Silent as I perch from the rooftop across the street, they did not notice me. The Eotech glowing red softly, only to my own eyes, in the night as I aim the barrel of my Stag m4.

1 shot, 1 of them drops. The others look around to the general direction of the sound. Some drift toward my location. But I am but a shadow in the night. Eventually they drift back to whatever state they were in.

1 shot, 1 of them drops.

Power in the night.