<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844</id><updated>2011-08-05T15:03:52.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dead Journal</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-8204022010834517149</id><published>2010-09-17T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T15:38:41.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 17, 2010 - 6:39pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Slickback&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slickback here from stl area, did anyone make it out of here it was so last minute notice my party barely did....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It began as an ordinary day for me as I was preparing to do a photo shoot for a recently engaged couple. I decided college was not for me a few months back and decided to focus on work and my faith, needless to say this event rocked both of my worlds as the afternoon sun began to rise. My friend Alex normally drives me to where I need to go since my family members bugged out to the secure spot we chose months ago for the h1n1 mutations so it was just me and him in this cancer filled town trying to make a living in the recession. I always had checked the news before I left for the weather but as soon as it came on an emergency message from the police department and cdc screamed to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had suspected a water main break mixed with vandalism like the norm but this time it was different. Alarmed citizens had reported that the dead began to rise and they just now got around to making a fucking announcement as the hospitals were flooded with bite victims who reanimated after 6 hours and went on to infect the living. I am not sure when this began since the st Louis area is the last to hear about anything. I knew this day was coming so I packed what things I had in my bag and called alex to tell him to do the same and waiting for him, while securing the location. Nothing yet on my side of town, people began to get on their roofs with whatever firearms they had and secured the entrances to every road creating check points. I grabbed my camera and began to shoot with the hopes if I died these pictures would live on so people knew what the world was before the dead began to rise. It was not long before he came and told me his girlfriend was coming along.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck, I thought to myself, I don’t need any cutesy wootsy bullshit while trying to survive this hell hole I screamed but knew she may come in handy since she was a nurse. The plan was to get to Indiana since his family lived in the country but knew it was going to be hell getting out of here. We loaded the vehicle with what we could and set out on the back roads out of town. The pictures I have taken so far are typical ones that flood the evening news channel of alarmed people preparing for their own deaths but one that disturbs me the most is one of a little girl; she could not have been no more than 7. She held her hand on the glass door as her father boarded up the frame. The look in her eyes as she held her baby doll and puppy were that of a third world, war torn shit hit the fan last night, stone cold dead.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to call this a night, i need to sleep because we are taking guard shifts and driving to get out of town. Bodies litter the streets and roads, gunshots fill the air and the moans of the undead army began to haunt into the lifeless night. If anyone is out there relay your position in Indiana and we will try to make contact. Please God let there be life… Did Alyssa even make it out of Florida…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-8204022010834517149?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8204022010834517149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-17-2010-639pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8204022010834517149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8204022010834517149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-17-2010-639pm.html' title='Sept. 17, 2010 - 6:39pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-3145828432146643165</id><published>2010-09-12T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T12:39:16.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:58pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Fahreruer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad to read you are using your wit and keeping your back safe. You are right though, I have always felt fortunate and proud to be an American with the liberties and freedoms it has given us to fight the dead. God Bless America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That island sounds pretty clever.&lt;br /&gt;Keep well brother and check back soon with any updates to your status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drakin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fahreruer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good to see there are some people alive in this world.&lt;br /&gt;But you ppl in the US are more lucky then we are here in Germany. No guns - I have been able to get two HK P10s from two dead cops, each with 2 magazines. Do the math...&lt;br /&gt;But I don't have to travel a lot and I saw no Zed that has been able to swim so far. I holed up in a left powerplant in the middle of the Weser. I cut the flimsy bridge the leads to this smal concrete island before I made me a home here. I doubt that the parents of a friend mind that I took their lil sail yacht with me.&lt;br /&gt;So far I made several small raids into the harbour (my new home was in dire need of some furniture and communication equipment, just in case)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you ppl have the ability to find a similar spot like me: get it. It's really worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-3145828432146643165?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3145828432146643165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-12-2010-158pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3145828432146643165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3145828432146643165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-12-2010-158pm.html' title='Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:58pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-9163581635140706976</id><published>2010-09-12T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T10:55:16.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:55pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kevin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Your transmissions are keeping me going, just knowing that humanity is finding a way to survive and communicate...There's a group of us holding up well in a small city west of Toronto. We have plenty of supplies but are lacking in the weapons department as we mainly have hunting rifles, shotguns and handguns. This is the only time I've ever wished to be American so a good assault rifle wouldnt be so hard to find heh heh. Spirits are up and down but we're alive, safe and fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay safe and best wishes to all who have found this site. Keep humanity alive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-9163581635140706976?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9163581635140706976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-12-2010-155pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/9163581635140706976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/9163581635140706976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-12-2010-155pm.html' title='Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:55pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2343651021708706144</id><published>2010-09-12T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T10:54:50.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:51pm</title><content type='html'>Quite day today, no sightings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its overcast outside and there is a damp chill to the September air. Winter is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to turn on the generators today to power up the homes to get a few things done.&lt;br /&gt;For me it is to post my backlog of transmissions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2343651021708706144?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2343651021708706144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-11-2010-1010pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2343651021708706144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2343651021708706144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-11-2010-1010pm.html' title='Sept. 12, 2010 - 1:51pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2766906980126078322</id><published>2010-09-10T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T10:44:39.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 10, 2010 - 11:16pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r00t_610 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, Im sorry for your loss. Its hard to put into writing something that I should say more, but it will never amount to what you must be feeling. I cannot imagine what you must be going through.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Damn&lt;/span&gt;, I should have been more diligent in writing my journal. It has been 97 days since your call for help went out. Your post was dated  &lt;a href="http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/06/jun-16-2010-0435pm.html#comments"&gt;&lt;span class="comment-timestamp"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a title="comment permalink"&gt;June 28, 2010 8:47 PM &lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="item-control blog-admin pid-145648224"&gt; &lt;a class="comment-delete" title="Delete Comment"&gt; &lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/icon_delete13.gif" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you alive man I really do.  To answer your question, yes I know of the area. But a dead city sits between us, we must get you out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have written a collective message from all the men, women and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt; here and are transmitting on the few AM frequencies we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are located northeast of Philadelphia. If you can get within broadcast range of our OP, our message can guide you to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the streets and suburbia are suicide to travel in alone, but if you can move fast and still have the energy and ammo to travel, we are not that far apart.  We can only send out our scout convoys so far. There are roadblocks everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have a radio than can work within range of us in NE Phila, transmit to us we can come to your position via our scout vehicles and give you a motorized transport back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all hope your alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Respond back....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drakin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;r00t_610 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; Drak,&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you mention the Schuylkill River, where are you located? I'm contacting you from a town near Allentown. I'm assuming you know where that is.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sort of in the same boat as you; I honestly have no clue how I have survived this long. My entire family is dead. They pasted about 4 months ago. I still don't know how I haven't killed myself. I mean, I guess I don't have to. The feeling of utter loneliness is slowly doing a great job of that. My food supply is running low. Every store around me has been depleted of ANY type of edible object. Giant, Don's Market; hell, even Taco Bell has nothing. Oh, the things I would do for a Chalupa right now...&lt;br /&gt;I am well armed, though. I have a Bushmaster BCWA2F11.5/5.5 223 CAR 30RD that my Dad ordered a few weeks before the outbreak [Good timing, huh?] with what seems like an endless supply of ammo. I also managed to round up 4 smoke grenades and what I think are 2 frag grenades. Long story as to how I them; I don't know if they're real but eh, I can always hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are any where near me, I would be willing to travel. I will continue to check back for a response. Please, please help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be safe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2766906980126078322?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2766906980126078322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-1116pm.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2766906980126078322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2766906980126078322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-1116pm.html' title='Sept. 10, 2010 - 11:16pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-7720201960404359830</id><published>2010-09-10T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T19:35:35.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 10, 2010 - 10:28pm</title><content type='html'>- From the words of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fargo007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;Daylight.  Not the best time to be out, but what is?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;We are beginning to second guess our decision to remain in the house.  It has been fortified well enough.  We have had no entries.  The dog has  helped us to stay aware of them as they approach.  He has no trouble detecting their stench from a distance.  Having been face to face with a couple, I’m unsurprised.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;The main problem is water.  We had been using the creek as a water supply, filtering through a katadyn, but the water has grown increasingly foul.  I don’t trust it anymore.  If one of them is laying in it upstream and we drink it...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;I really think our chances start to go up once we get further away from the population centers.  The problem is making it out.  We’ve got one running vehicle, plenty of gas, and plenty of ammo.  As I see it, lack of intel on what is happening past where I am now is the biggest issue.  The dog begins barking as I’m writing this.  There’s one attempting to cross the creek into the backyard.  Since I don’t want to poison the water for those downstream, I waited until he got over and square onto the lawn before resting the reticle right on the tip of his nose.  I believed this to have (been) a neighbor up the street.  Slow, so not so recently turned.  The LWRC pushed back into my shoulder, and the suppressor crackled and hissed as I watched the round impact.  The base of its skull detached and the head flopped backwards violently as the body continued walking forward, eventually falling backwards on its ass.  I scanned as I reset the trigger.  Nothing.  Gun back on safe.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;Great - Now there are four rotten, stinking corpses lying in the backyard in various stages of decay.  The swingset and the trampoline that they lie in between have become painful reminders to my kids of how things used to be.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;We cannot stay in the neighborhood anymore.  We are packing up our supplies and are going to head west.  I’m going to put the dog in the back seat with the kids, let the wife drive with a pistol so she can defend the cab while driving if need be, and I’ll keep a carbine and a shottie up front.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: arial;"&gt;There aren’t many places that people are reporting reliably hold up, or have the resources to do so.  Police stations, gun clubs and military bases seem to be the best bet.  Once I get done working out a transportation plan of the best routes out of here, I think I’ll be heading for a gun club tucked away in the mountains out by Lancaster.  Little place called New Holland Rifle &amp;amp; Pistol Club.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:transparent;"   &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-7720201960404359830?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7720201960404359830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-1028pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/7720201960404359830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/7720201960404359830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-1028pm.html' title='Sept. 10, 2010 - 10:28pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4629117060350334196</id><published>2010-09-10T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T19:42:09.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 10, 2010 - 08:58pm</title><content type='html'>They came in the middle of the night. But it wasn't a greeting the decaying endless death as we have come accustomed to.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a while since and dead have shown up in force with numbers upon our little enclave to really threaten us like it was in the beginning. The real miracle was how our little band got started, but that will be another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In those first few weeks, while we strived to secure an immediate perimeter around the small cluster of town homes we chose to secure to make a stand in together first, I really couldn't tell you honestly if we where going to make it out alive in this. There was just so many of them together en mass wandering around. Without the protection and support from my new neighbors, none of this now, what I am about to describe, could have ever formed. It simply cannot be done by 1 man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that first wall, we used anything we could get with the manpower we had available. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Shit&lt;/span&gt;, we even tore up the sidewalk square slabs and used them as foundations for the wall.  I mean we used &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ANYTHING&lt;/span&gt;. It was a rubble pile, but it was solid and most importantly it worked&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... and still remains our last line of defense if anything happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 worked, while 8 fully armed with rifles and sidearms watched their backs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a rag tag collection of firearms assembled by our own collections before all this shit went down, including my own lot. Mostly a collection M4's (or AR-15's a some of us like to call them). These as you can image came in just about in every configuration possible, but most of them where equipped with fast reflex sights such as Eotach's or Aimpoints.  Every rifle is really a signature of its owner. Some had Magpul stocks and MIAD grips, almost all had a forward grips, my own has a RRA Nation match trigger&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;There was one who had a tricked out DSA FAL, free floated hand guard, the works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fucking hell&lt;/span&gt; though, we brought them all to us with the Gunfire. But what were we to do? Damned if you do, damned if you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First came the fresh ones, the ones the fucking run.  Drop the runners to the ground with solid body shots knocked them out temporarily enough to take out the head with a single accurate shot.  It is the only way to kill them, and its extremely hard to hit a moving head a distance especially under constant pressure and fatigue. 6 where on the ground with the workers, 2 where up on the roofs in prone positions for the more difficult shots. In stopping a zombie cold from a dead run in this the FAL proved to be by far the best, but it was the combination of the accuracy of the m4's that really kept things dead when undead hit the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They came in numbers at times, and they also came one by one.  We worked non-stop till completion. Taking shifts between constant guarding and back braking work. I don't even know how many day its took..2, 3? We were running mostly on caffeine and adrenaline from the constant fear and stress. Hitting your mark at a moving target is not easy on the mind, it can be just as hard as physical labor. But it was the need to protect our families inside that drove us on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once a the rubble pile was 5ft high, i think it was on the 3rd day actually, we felt semi-comfortable enough for us to take shifts in sleeping.  4 at a time had that luxury. while 4 guarded and 4 worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have multiple walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was yesterday at 9:02am, that we got a call from outside of those walls. I was smokin' one of my last cig's scanning the bleakness of the horizon, my m4 slung down across my chest via a single point sling, when out of nowhere....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*SCCCCCCCCCccccrrreeeEEaaaaAAACCCHHHHHH*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fully loaded truck comes slamming around the corner. In tow, was about a half dozen sprinters (they looked fresh, god knows where they came from).  I could hear faint popping and i even noticed at the time while i aimed down the sight of my rifle, they were dropping with precision, but i did not hear any rifle report. Was that a suppressor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulling up to the semi-trailer gate was not death, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LIFE!&lt;/span&gt; A whole Family by the looks of it. Kept safe, and well fed by the looks of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a brief introduction we let them in, cautious as always at first, but we soon found out we had nothing to fear from this family. Well maybe the dead should fear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Fargo007 with his family, and they were on the move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next entry will be a verbatim description of his account.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4629117060350334196?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4629117060350334196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-0858pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4629117060350334196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4629117060350334196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/sept-10-2010-0858pm.html' title='Sept. 10, 2010 - 08:58pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-3015124213224555677</id><published>2010-06-16T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T14:24:49.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jun. 16, 2010 - 04:35pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We are holding on to what is left of our humanity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im not quit sure how we survived this far. Our enclave of families have exhausted and scavenged all food, water, and fuel within a 10 mile radius from our location. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.....yes, "our" enclave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to think our survival, is in part due to the intelligence of our collective minds over the decaying flesh of our enemies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much has taken place since my last transmission back in 2009.  I will fill you all in more in the coming days as we are powering back up a small portion of the grid within our fortified suburban street for via 4 of those large Road construction generators. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Soundproofing them within an abandoned home turned out to be a real challenge. That was one of the days we almost lost everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last scouting mission brought back a "liberated" 18-wheeler diesel tanker. It sitting omniously in the middle out our cul-de-sac. I will speak more on this later, as it has proven to be one of our only means of procuring immediate resources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is rationed, so needless to say powering back up the internet has taken a back seat to keeping our food reserves frozen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now communication with the outside world has again taken priority without or community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a long time since we found new survivors. Which hangs heavily on our hearts. I take pride in our new life we have created, but being "human" is to be around others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are alive, and if you can reach us. You have a safe place within the high concrete walls of our suburban street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our way of life has changed. Yet we survive. We WILL Survive.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Was that an unsuppressed rifle report I just heard? All of our perimeter guards have silenced rifles, why is someone firing..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh shit &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; are here, they somehow must have heard the genera...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-3015124213224555677?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3015124213224555677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/06/jun-16-2010-0435pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3015124213224555677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3015124213224555677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2010/06/jun-16-2010-0435pm.html' title='Jun. 16, 2010 - 04:35pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4492753024762018390</id><published>2009-10-06T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T20:44:03.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oct. 06, 2009 - 11:44pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Raptor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Drak-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news and bad news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is we've managed to double our group size. I came across two of my buddies from school while out scavenging this past weekend. We've decided to movie into my house, since it's the best fortified position. We've also managed to (temporarily) solve our ammunition crisis. Our arsenal now consists of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-AR-15 carbine w/ 1000 rounds .223&lt;br /&gt;-Belgium-made AK-74 w/ 1200 rounds 5.45mm&lt;br /&gt;-Mosin-Nagant 91/30 w/ 500 rounds 7.62x54mm R&lt;br /&gt;-Mossberg 590 w/120 rounds 00-buckshot&lt;br /&gt;-SIG P220 w/350 rounds .45 ACP hollowpoints&lt;br /&gt;-Glock 19 w/200 rounds 9mm hollowpoints&lt;br /&gt;-S&amp;amp;W Model 64 w/ 120 rounds .38 Spl semi-wadcutter hollowpoints&lt;br /&gt;-Walther PPK w/ 80 rounds .380 hollowpoints&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad news is we've managed to double our group size. The 3+ weeks worth of food we had stored up was just effectively halved. We're down to just over a week's provisions. We've been out scavenging pretty much every day. One pair goes out while the other pair stays back and guards the house. Unfortunately, food has become incredibly scarce around here. We've discussed heading west, since there's farms about forty minutes by car in that direction, but we figure it'd be futile; they were all probably picked clean weeks ago. On the other hand, this area has also been picked clean, and we're encountering more and more Zeds too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on how things pan out, this might be my last transmission for a while. If you haven't heard from me in two weeks, assume the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep pulling, everyone. As Morris Mandel once said, "The Darkest Hour has only sixty minutes."We [i]will[/i] survive this. The human race [i]will[/i] continue. This horror [i]will[/i] end. Until that day comes, and it [i]is[/i] coming, be careful, shoot straight, and don't ever give up hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Raptor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4492753024762018390?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4492753024762018390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-06-2009-1144pm.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4492753024762018390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4492753024762018390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-06-2009-1144pm.html' title='Oct. 06, 2009 - 11:44pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-3448990719754449693</id><published>2009-10-03T21:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:20:39.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oct. 04, 2009 - 12:20am</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5LaLC-IYb0g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5LaLC-IYb0g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-3448990719754449693?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3448990719754449693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-04-2009-1220am.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3448990719754449693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3448990719754449693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-04-2009-1220am.html' title='Oct. 04, 2009 - 12:20am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4116217964550032151</id><published>2009-10-03T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:11:45.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oct. 04, 2009 - 12:10am</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jeff Murdock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Good to see that others in the southern states are surviving this epidemic. The situation in Oklahoma is not that great, though I have managed to get to and secure land that my family owned before this "Outbreak" occurred. Fortunately for me due to my uncle's hording of old cars and shittery, I'm in fairly good supply of mechanical items and in supply of a goodly amount of fresh water and wood. This is due to the fact that we back up onto some flood plains that the government used to own (I doubt the government is even in control anymore at this point)that has a nice plot of woods and it also backs up to a river system, I have managed to piece together a rainwater collection system from clean pipes and some 55 gallon drums to provide myself with fresh,clean and safe water as well as using a charcoal filter system built from a couple of Tupperware tubs and some pipe fittings I found in the garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also made a make shift fence around a garden area inside of which I have planted some winter wheat, carrots, peas and some beans. Tomorrow I hope to test out my gasification system if successful I will attempt to convert a vehicle to run on a smaller version. Spirits are still high here as my ammo and canned foods are still in good supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rommel (The dog) and myself await further communications from the outside world via the failing internet services, I wonder if the amateur radio bands will light up once the internet goes down for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4116217964550032151?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4116217964550032151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-04-2009-1210am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4116217964550032151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4116217964550032151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-04-2009-1210am.html' title='Oct. 04, 2009 - 12:10am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-5892642270194027588</id><published>2009-10-03T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:18:12.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oct. 03, 2009 - 11:49pm</title><content type='html'>Fitted a rain catch to a huge Rubbermaid tub today. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;An idea given to me from Jeff Murdock posted above, very clever.&lt;/span&gt; Spotted the tub on our way back from our salvage run to the supermarket. Kept a keen eye out for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; that could be useful, always with our heads on a swivel. It took the day alone just to bring it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I noticed any trip taken outside pays with the cost of ammunition. Im going through&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;more&lt;/span&gt; ammunition than I would ever have expected, but I am still good for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Damn, I still have to write down our about journey. In all this it was surreal, It was longer than we expected. My mind is still trying to grasp the images seen out there and that was just in my neighborhood. Let alone this county, state, region, continent, world.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own time, our own time, I will explain it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our story of experiences must be told, so that our children, our children children will know how we fought back and survived starting with this country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I would just like to say I am proud to be an American. God bless the USA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-5892642270194027588?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5892642270194027588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-03-2009-1149pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5892642270194027588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5892642270194027588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oct-03-2009-1149pm.html' title='Oct. 03, 2009 - 11:49pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-6007190614916692205</id><published>2009-09-28T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T19:55:33.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 28, 2009 - 10:10pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lilmoose0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;Darkness, it’s amazing how bright pitch black can be. The only other time I’ve seen the stars like this was after hurricanes Katrina and Gustav. The night would go smoother if I could see even a little. When the full moon is out I feel a little better, but that brings the living out. Sometimes I think they are worse than the dead. They shoot back and they can think, they’ll try to trick you if they can. If it were a full moon tonight I’d worry about loosing my natural night vision staring at this screen, but it’s so damn dark out, the blurry spot in my eyes gives me something to look at.&lt;br /&gt;My little girl is finally starting to sleep throughout the night again. I know she has nightmares. Poor thing, she’s too young to even talk yet. I wonder what the future holds for her. I wish I could hold her and sleep with her too but I can’t. I have to keep watch. Keep watch of what? I can’t even see my damn hand in front of my face. I hope there are no shots tonight; I want her and my wife to sleep well. It’s been some time since we had comfort like this.&lt;br /&gt;I ended up having to put my two dogs down earlier this week. They were only trying to warn us, but their barking attracted more attention than anything. The dead would have just walked by if the dogs wouldn’t have barked. Now I have no home. Brutus knocked over the lamp when he charged to the door to get at them. I might have had a fighting chance to put the fire out and fend off the attack but I had to get my wife and daughter out. The flames kept the dead busy while we escaped out the back. Now I’m low on ammo, food, and water except for what I can find here and there. I’ve learned to carry what I need on or near me at all times. From what I saw from the tree line, I may have only lost half of my home in the fire. I don’t know. Maybe the MRE’s in the closet are ok. I know the ammo’s gone. I could hear the rounds cooking off as we ran. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go back to see what’s left. Any way there are two wooden crosses in the cane field marking Brutus and Caesar’s resting place. I wish I didn’t have to but I just can’t have something like that happen again. I just can’t take that chance.&lt;br /&gt;I was able to find a small farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. The house was built 12 feet off the ground because of the flooding there used to be in the 1800’s before the levees were built around the Mississippi river. There is a 500 gallon tank of diesel about 600 feet from the back door. There’s a small garden, a couple of goats and about a dozen or so chickens. There’s enough feed for the animals to last through the winter. When that’s gone, I guess chicken &amp;amp; goat will be on the menu. There was enough dried blood on the front porch and wall for me to guess what happened to the previous owner. I’ve been gathering water and hunting up what animals I could with a pellet gun (I’ve got to keep it quiet). The eggs from the chickens are nice. I had forgotten how eggs tasted. I wish I had a little bacon to go with them. I found three boxes of 12ga. buck shot, but no shotgun to put them in. It doesn’t look like the house was raided. Probably some old guy lived here. There are newspapers from the 20’s and 30’s in the attic. They give me something to read. I found a couple of aluminum ladders and have since torn down the front and back steps so no one or “no thing” can come in too easily. I put the ladders on the front and back porch, that way my wife can lower them down when I need to get back up. I think this would work for the dead, but it’s the living I’m more worried about. I’m using the wood from the steps to burn in the fire place at night and to cook with. We hung thick drapes in the windows to keep the candle light in. At night I stay perched up in the attic or up here on the roof. During the day when I’m in the yard or garden, my wife is up here on over watch.&lt;br /&gt;What’s my next step? I’ve got to find somewhere better, but I don’t want to go near town again. I wonder how the rest of my family is doing. Ever since the masses of the dead migrated here from New Orleans, I haven’t been able to check on anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;……agh!!! I’m getting sleepy. I need to walk around or something. I need to conserve the batteries anyway. I wish Brutus &amp;amp; Caesar were here. Come to think of it, Brutus was a present for my daughter. What have I done? What kind of father am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…..I gotta go, I’ll check in later. Man it’s dark out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-6007190614916692205?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6007190614916692205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-28-2009-1010pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6007190614916692205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6007190614916692205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-28-2009-1010pm.html' title='Sept. 28, 2009 - 10:10pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4704126034969268587</id><published>2009-09-28T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T19:32:17.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 28, 2009 - 9:08pm</title><content type='html'>Epex, do not lose hope brother.  We are all in this together. Your message brings important news for all of us. This is the first contact we have received from outside our country, let alone Sweden.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Epex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: Sept. 23, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Time: 1030 hours&lt;br /&gt;Grid: 59.247015,18.230093&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good to see that humanity is still alive and kicking, I was beginning to lose hope.&lt;br /&gt;I have some news on the situation the US is not the only one that's been infected, I'm located in Sweden and from what I have read so far is worse here than in the US and in all likely hood it´s because of the lack of guns among civilians, I really wish I had some kind of rifle or something right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I should start at the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;On the 20th of September I woke up like any other day, my mom had all ready gone to work and I was alone in the apartment. So I tried to turn on the TV, nothing happened, I tried with a lamp, no power, I thought to myself “That's strange?”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I looked outside and saw the smoke and the fires, so I tried the phone, dead. I then realized that this was more serious then I first thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into my room and started gearing up, I´m glad that before all this I read a lot of survival books and prepper books. First my belt-line kit and then my AWOL bag then some real combat boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My place is a death trap to try to defend against anyone so I had to leave, I didn't know about the zombies at this time, just that the power was out and there where fires burning and I knew that there is a civilian emergency shelter not far from me and by the looks of things not a lot of people where out in the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went out, everything was so quiet.&lt;br /&gt;I got about half the way when I saw a man standing in the road, correction he was wobbling more then standing. I cautiously tried to approach him but I didn't get very far before he started running and he was hauling ass, I have never seen a man run that fast it was inhuman. He flew on to me and we fell to the ground and then he tried to bite me. We rolled around a bit and after what felt like an eternity I got on top of him and started bashing his head against the asphalt, I didn't stop until he became still. By that time I had blood all over me and I knew that I had to get out of here, so I ran the rest of the way.&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the shelter I was shaking from my encounter, I got in and closed the door. The inside was empty, no one was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the floor and cried, I´m not a soldier, I have never killed anyone before, I got some duds blood all over my hands and I´m all alone, I don´t know where my family is or if they even are alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was three days ago I have been eating the MREs from my AWOL bag and drinking my bottled water but I'm running low, I need to find some more food and water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´ll try to fill you in.&lt;br /&gt;Epex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE BLOOD OF THE DEAD IS LETHAL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION NOT COME INTO CONTACT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valuable news, it took the infection a little over a month to break the international quarantines (if there were any left?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4704126034969268587?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4704126034969268587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/epex-do-not-lose-hope-brother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4704126034969268587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4704126034969268587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/epex-do-not-lose-hope-brother.html' title='Sept. 28, 2009 - 9:08pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-3581230317524877476</id><published>2009-09-28T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T19:07:13.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 28, 2009 - 7:30pm</title><content type='html'>As I power back up, the last of them have been put down. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More late mail has come in from the failing servers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dan P.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 22, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Damn! I feel like I slept for days....even though its been a couple of hours. I dont hear the motorcycle idling anymore probably ran out of gas. It was only a matter of time. Oh Well I aquired a few useful items from my shopping endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    2 collapsible potable water containers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    1 case of surplus MRE's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    8 3-volt lithium batteries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    high powered range finding binoculars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    2 motion activated wildlife camera units&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    ATN 1st generation nightvision monocular&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    Lansky multi-stone knife sharpening kit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad I never met my neighbor, by the looks of his apartment and the supplies I took we probably would have got along well. The big score was the NV monocular, although rudimentary by today's standards it is perfect for what I need. I did spot what appears to be a Stack-On gun locker in a closet, but didnt want to make any unnecessary noise jimmying it open. I'm definitely going back there with proper tools to quietly breech the safe. Its time for a nice U.S Military ham slice MRE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-3581230317524877476?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3581230317524877476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-28-2009-730pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3581230317524877476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3581230317524877476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-28-2009-730pm.html' title='Sept. 28, 2009 - 7:30pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1469577472611643442</id><published>2009-09-23T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T19:10:36.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:54pm</title><content type='html'>We have no choice, we are going outside for supplies tomorrow. Together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weighing our options, the GIANT Supermarket is down the street about a mile, outside our development. It is the closest location and our best bet to find the supplies we need. Going on fargo007' advice, we will be visiting the pharmacy section for critical antibiotics as well. Please post comments on any other things to keep an eye out for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the day making a makeshift cart from an old beach cruiser bycylcle and miscellaneous parts found in the garage. Got to say,  I am proud of how it turned out. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;must find time later to post pics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It is amazing what you can build if you only apply yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  know I could easily take the Highlander SUV parked in the driveway, but I may need to gas for when I &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;REALLY&lt;/span&gt; need it. The attention a vehicle will cause would be far to great as well, as I would surely be the only one driving on the road . I will only use it for a last resort who knows what the road condition is 1 mile down. The cart will be silent and steady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now prepping for our journy tommorow. Going over our kit. Among other things, I have to plan for us being out longer than expected. Food/water/medicine/ect. Thank god I took the time to make a BOB a few years back on the suggestion from my friend Diego.  For the Daylight journy my wife will be sporting lighter STAG m4 with 120 rounds. I will be taking my Bulgarian SLR-107 with 500 rounds(plus an additional 250 of 5.56 for my wife) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Protection to our entire body from bites is absolutely critical. If i can find anything on our journy that will help us in this regards, Ill take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am double and triple checking everything. All the rifles are cleaned. Ammunition loaded. The cart is solid. The kit is set. Depending on how long I will be out. Expect to hear from my within 24 to 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left a hit counter running.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1469577472611643442?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1469577472611643442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-854pm.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1469577472611643442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1469577472611643442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-854pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:54pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-937144554187174235</id><published>2009-09-21T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:54:53.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 11:48pm</title><content type='html'>The modified generator is holding up fine.  A&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lthough it is slightly louder then the previous engine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I type this a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"full-on" &lt;/span&gt;dead runner is raging around our street. It is not natural for any human to make a noise like that. I could hear it approach as I was reading through the last email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They enter and exit the vacant open hopes around us as they please. The windows and doors have long since been beaten in or just simply left open. Who knows how many can be infested around us. I havent dared to go into them yet. Although it could come to that, our supplies are become "Danger Close" to being depleted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am overwhelmed from your responses. It is contact from the outside world, that keeps us sane and to feel human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The Light&lt;/span&gt; within each of you cannot be measured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is finally time to power down for the night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DrakinClaw out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-937144554187174235?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/937144554187174235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-1148pm.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/937144554187174235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/937144554187174235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-1148pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 11:48pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1762071747029199693</id><published>2009-09-21T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:39:44.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 9:30pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ryan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 11, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like Drakinclaw might be in trouble. No updates in over a week. Hopefully he will pick things up soon. We are holding up fairly well out here. Living on elevated terrain and outside the city limits has proven invaluable. I am down to just under 1000 rounds for my M4, but the stream of infected and would-be looters has lessened considerably. What's left of the neighborhood has banded together. Working to fortify what's left and compile supplies. Wish more had followed church council to store a year's worth of food. Still, living in Utah has had its advantages. As the neighborhood gun-nut I have been elected a kind of defacto sheriff. A few guys are pretty squared away, so I am finally getting some sleep. Generators are low on gas, and I don't want to siphon everything just yet. Looks like we need a hunting party to drop down into the valley and see what we can scavenge. I'll let you know how it looks. Good luck drakenclaw, wherever you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;- End of transmission&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1762071747029199693?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1762071747029199693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-930pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1762071747029199693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1762071747029199693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-930pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 9:30pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1549467734048662693</id><published>2009-09-21T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:17:56.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:48pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mjporreca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 15, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we heard gun fire off in the distance. At first it was sporadic, rifle, .308 maybe 30-06. As for us, we had two guests arrive just after before dark. The first tripped the alarm strings running across the street. We had been teaching Jason, the son of the family who’s dog got killed, how to shoot. We let him fire off some .38 rounds from a revolver to get a feel. We have very few .38’s between us and I have plenty of supplies for reloads. He’s a natural. Maybe because he’s got young eyes and good hand eye coordination, or maybe video games really to help, either way he’s a decent shot. We decided, if he was up for it, this was a good chance to give him some live fire practice. The shot was only about 30 yards. He braced on the hood of an F-150, pulled his father’s Remington 700 up against his shoulder and sighted. I stood next to him, “Breath in, let it out slow, hold it, sight picture, squeeze.” BANG. The corpses head looked like it popped open and the body fell to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That was for Buster,” he mumbled while still watching through the scope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second of the zombies showed up about 10 minutes later. We had all calmed down from the first one, and Jason had gone back to the barricaded house we were all now calling home. Five of us were discussing options. At this rate it seemed like we could hold out for weeks. If it really came down to it, there were supplies in other houses that we would be glad to replace after this whole situation was over. But at the moment we didn’t need to worry that. The zombie then stumbled out from behind one of the houses next to our main house. We hadn’t heard any alarms and the thing hadn’t moaned. If it had been darker, it may have gotten the jump on us. I’m very glad we got to learn this lesson without paying for it. All four of us with firearms pumped two shots at the thing. We had been working on fire discipline and although we all shot, we didn’t go crazy. Two people pulled on the long heavy work gloves we have, put on the asbestos filter masks and moved the bodies down to the embankment we threw the others over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning we dumped a few more wheel barrows of dirt and Clorox down to cover them. It’s not a good long term solution, but it’s been working so far. The rest of the day we spent on the defenses again. We’ve been moving cars to block the paths between houses and taking apart our fences to help shore up those blockades. If we decide to stay I want to try to create a funnel for anything coming up into one field of fire. I won’t completely leave my guard down in other directions, but it will add some comfort. 4 more zombies came during the day. No one living has been by. Some of us think we need to start looking around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder about the bodies piling up at the firing we’ve been hearing. Tom setup his backyard telescope on his roof and we spotted the source. It’s actually the police station just on the other side of the river. We have a nice view of it, about 2 miles away. There’s a steady stream of corpses coming from all the directions. On the roof, it looks like a few officers and some national guard. They seem to be holding out pretty well. The dead, or redead, are piling up. We watched them all day, we’ll see how much light have now that the sun is going down again.&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1549467734048662693?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1549467734048662693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-848pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1549467734048662693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1549467734048662693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-848pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:48pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4424412796605549576</id><published>2009-09-21T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:36:09.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:36pm</title><content type='html'>I hope this is not a sign of the servers starting to go down. The email from Raptor was sent on the 30th. But in my entry box it was marked as received on the 10th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Raptor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Aug. 30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God. Someone else is still out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This last week has been hell. Dad went to work and never came back, Mom and my Grandmother went out for a walk even though my brother and I said not to. We heard screams. I'm pretty sure they're both gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God I went out and bought guns, ammo, food, and a generator when I heard the first reports. We've got about a month's worth of canned foodstuffs left, but we're running lower than I'd like on ammo. Looter's have actually been more common than undead, which is surprising; I'm still shocked how brutal suburban soccer moms cam be when the stuff hits the fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drak, do you think we should stay put or bug out? I'm thinking stay put, seeing as how we still have plenty of supplies and neither of us know anything about wilderness survival. On the other hand, we're using up ammunition faster than I'd like, and few people in my area own (owned?) guns, since it's a very liberal, anti-2A area. Barring that, should we search for other survivors, bring them into our house/fort or move into theirs? Also, any idea on how to recognize someone who's been infected but hasn't died and reanimated yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happens, Drak, I thank God that I found your blog; radio and TV stations went dead around here two days ago and I'd begun to lose hope. I wish you and your wife the best of luck, and I hope and pray that you both make it through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Godspeed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raptor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4424412796605549576?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4424412796605549576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-836pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4424412796605549576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4424412796605549576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-836pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:36pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1003939888844544328</id><published>2009-09-21T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:55:55.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:11pm</title><content type='html'>So much to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for right now, its contact with the world we &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;desire&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1003939888844544328?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1003939888844544328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-811pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1003939888844544328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1003939888844544328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-811pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 8:11pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-8093870285295068065</id><published>2009-09-21T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:01:31.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:56pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lordiego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 10, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words cannot describe the joy that little green blinking light brought to me as my eyes caught its constant flickering among the rubble of this one time popular coffee-shop..&lt;br /&gt;It could only mean that the wireless router was indeed working off an active internet connection.  Instantly I knew that meant news and communication with the rest of the world,&lt;br /&gt;as well as an active outlet from which to charge my now defunct laptop.  My mission is accomplished, I set out 4 hours ago to find exactly this.  Its been one week since I've heard from another living soul that's not my wife nor my dogs.  The infected seemed to have consumed everything in my immediate area, there are a random few here and there, but the bulk of them seemed to have headed north.  Hopefully in pursuit of the groups of looters that have chosen to make a terrible situation worse.&lt;br /&gt;Going back to the beginning, I could have sworn I was more prepared than the average Joe to deal with these types of situation... having lived through two South American economic collapses and having dealt first hand with rioters and looters.  But nothing that I've seen in my life could possibly prepare me for what has gone down this past two weeks...&lt;br /&gt;I remember it was nice sunny day, and I stopped by my usual gas station to fill up the tank and pick up a pack of cigarettes on my way to work, when out of the blue, two dirty homeless guys came out of nowhere and attacked the lady on the gas pump next to me.  I went around to help her, hoping I could stop what looked like a violent mugging, when one of the "homeless" guys lifted his head to look at me, hanging from his mouth were pieces of flesh from the woman they had just attacked, who now laid on the ground, bleeding and unconscious, half her face having just been consumed by these animals.  After a few seconds of shock, I kicked into high gear, jumped into my car and headed to work.  I dialed 911 but the lines were busy.  I turned on the radio, and there were reports of rioting, random violence, and cannibalism on the streets.  I knew then and there things would turn real bad, real quick, I made a 180 and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;We spent the rest of the day securing our residence, boarding up windows and reinforcing doors.  With plenty of food and water, I knew we could hole up in our house for a couple of months at least.  But when the power went out a week ago, I knew I had to go outside to assess the situation, lest we turn out like those Japanese soldiers who lived for over a decade hiding in the jungle because news that the war was over never reached them.&lt;br /&gt;We are now alone on our street, (except for one house that I believe to still be occupied) everybody else either packed up and left (probably had to abandon their car on the mess that became of the highway), succumbed to these creatures, or was overcome by looters.&lt;br /&gt;I will now leave my laptop in this coffee shop, charging its battery.  I will attempt to make contact with this blog every 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;2 People, 2 dogs.  Well stocked.  For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LorDiego over and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-8093870285295068065?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8093870285295068065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-756pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8093870285295068065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8093870285295068065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-756pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:56pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1385897019774862691</id><published>2009-09-21T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:55:40.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:48pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Master Shake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 9, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't in the city, but my aunt lives just on the Jersey side. We holed up in her house, just watching the waves of refugees pass by. The smoke was heavy and sporadic gunfire could be heard at all hours. Fighters screamed overhead almost hourly, then slowed. Now we only hear a large plane a few times a day. No traffic from the commercial airports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For three days there was a non-stop exodus of people fleeing on foot. Some on bycicle, but cars were not going anywhere. A few people broke off from the main artery and "scoped out" our neighborhood looking for food or water or whatever. Most were firmly herded back to the freeway by the old timers weilding shotguns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day there were nothing but stragglers, a few dozen at most. The gunfire increased and we could see more and more of the stumblers on the overpass. We assumed the infected (or whatever we should call them) were following the people fleeing the city. A trickle turned into a mob, and they were so thick on the overpass we could see some of them knocked off the side. One landed near the top of our street. It began crawling back towards the freeway, trying to crawl back up the wall. A few of us went out to see it. When it saw us it began crawling for us, but with two smashed legs and a shattered pelvis it could barely move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looked like it had been doused with bleach, or acid almost. Hair clung in tufts, and most of its exposed skin was pure white, though the blackness lurking beneath the white skin was the worst part. Part of the exposed skin was blistered, and the thick chemicle smell coming off its clothes told us that it had been doused in something. Under the chemicle smell was death, rotting meat. We didn't want to get too close. Its eyes were milky and scarred, like it had sand poured into the eyes but no tears to whipe them away. It couldn't see us, but it could hear us as it crowled around swiping with its one good hand. Trying to grab at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rumors were true; they dead really were walking (crawling?). Rather than risk the noise of a shot, we smashed it with a sign post and made out way back to our houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a lot of food compared to most folks, and a fair amount of water. The pipes are still working so we have been filling up anything we can. We've cleared out the food from the neighbors who have left, so that helps. There are six of us with my Aunt. She's old and in a wheel chair, we can't leave her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm picking up a wireless signal from somewhere, and the generator is still going strong.  I'll post more as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1385897019774862691?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1385897019774862691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-748pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1385897019774862691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1385897019774862691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-748pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:48pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-3560967788652565544</id><published>2009-09-21T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T22:03:19.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:20pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;miken40&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 4, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drak, I don't know if you'll get this or if you've moved on but this morning when I walked into cell range to use my Blackberry, I actually got an e-mail.  In the from column it simply said "USGOVERNMENT."  My first instinct was to say "oh great, spam" then I was like, "Dude are you crazy?  Nobody is sending you spam!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've attached the e-mail so you can share it with anybody else that's reading.  I'm also forwarding it to everybody on my Blackberry contacts list in hopes that someone will get this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I almost forgot to tell you I saw my first one of "them" when I was hunting in the woods near a logging road yesterday.  He must have been a tourist or a birdwatcher once or something because he still had these fat binoculars around his neck.  I guess he wandered up from the main road.  Scared the shit out of me cause I hear this phlegm kind of noise behind me right before I'm getting ready to take a shot at a turkey.  I swing around and this fuck is like five feet from me.  Boom, boom, boom goes the 12 gauge.  At five feet even I couldn't miss.  Shame about the binoculars, but there's no way I was touching that shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family is doing OK although food is starting to run pretty low.  My wife gets pretty freaked out when I hike down here to check in with you so I'm gonna go back now.  I'll try you again in a few days if all goes well.  Be safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/SrhE1MhRuZI/AAAAAAAAADU/o31RfgFtyRM/s1600-h/page1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/SrhE1MhRuZI/AAAAAAAAADU/o31RfgFtyRM/s400/page1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384129035205982610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/SrhE1ZzHA0I/AAAAAAAAADc/SbVwAYuzosA/s1600-h/page2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/SrhE1ZzHA0I/AAAAAAAAADc/SbVwAYuzosA/s400/page2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384129038770438978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-3560967788652565544?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3560967788652565544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-720pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3560967788652565544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/3560967788652565544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-720pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:20pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/SrhE1MhRuZI/AAAAAAAAADU/o31RfgFtyRM/s72-c/page1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-275963658137575324</id><published>2009-09-21T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:37:59.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:12pm</title><content type='html'>-Transmission from &lt;span style="cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;" onclick="window.location='members/mjporreca/';"&gt;mjporreca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 4, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-275963658137575324?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/275963658137575324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-712pm.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/275963658137575324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/275963658137575324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-712pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 7:12pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4819501966329996786</id><published>2009-09-21T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:36:11.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 6:50pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fargo007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sept. 3,  2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Drakin, how you doing up there on the hill?  Things are okay down here, and we're still buttoned up pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole family across the street is sick, and they have little kids.  Ordinary germ sick that is.  These days we have to specify don't we....  I'm a precision rig guy.  That's what I do best, but there couldn't be a poorer choice for a fast haul for 1.5 miles with only defensive engagements in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad I decided to buy a suppressor for the 5.56.  I'll explain.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the 308 it doesn't matter because you're firing one shot, and usually driving them shitwise instantly.  If they manage to scream and howl, others begin to arrive shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The CVS is about 1.5 miles away as the crow flies.  I'm on my way at 5am this morning, thinking that the cold of night has slowed them down some.  It has.  If they are not directly in my path, I evade them by hopping yard fences, dodging in and out of trees, you know.  Once they lose sight of you and you get a quarter mile away or more, they can't follow anymore, or seem to lose interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit - I used to run that 1.5 in 9:37.   My 41 year old attitude writes checks these days that my 41 year old knees cant cash.   I had three at the traffic light by W. Trenton Rd. that weren't moving.  I stayed in the trees and crept up on them about 200Y away.  I did a 360 scan, went prone, and got my breathing under control.   Feeling the trigger, I let the 200 stadia line in the ACOG come to rest gently on the top of the nose of the only one facing in my direction.  The others wouldn't see the shot this way.  I was slung up tight, and the crosshairs moved only vertically as I breathed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trigger broke.  Red spray, and it's head snapped back violently, the tendons in the spine elastically propelling the head forward again as it lost voluntary control and collapsed almost straight down, like a sack of rotten chicken shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My left leg slid down about an inch, and my NPOA came to rest on number two.  He still hadn't turned his head, but he'd never get the chance.  He lurched forward and hit the ground face first and motionless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third one was turning the wrong way to try and find some context clues.  I took advantage of the broadside head shot, and found his right ear with my 200Y stadia line.  The 75 grain bullet really knocked the corn out of his shit.  His skull flung sideways and came crashing down on his left shoulder, tearing muscle and tendon visibly on his right side before he toppled and lay motionless against the curb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm laying there breathing again....  playing it back.   What, three seconds?  Nah..  2.5....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHO THE HELL CARES???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard shuffling on the pavement to my right, and I turned ever so slightly to see what it was.  An older man who had turned quite a while ago was headed toward the intersection.  They had made some kind of sound and drawn him or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was focused on them, and didn't even see me.  I lay motionless as he went by.  Perhaps 15 yards away from me.  He was going so slow I didn't waste rounds.  I went through some backyards to get ahead of him and arrived in the CVS parking lot.  I wondered how many more in the area would have been alerted if I wasn't suppressed....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doors were smashed open.  I cleared it, noting that batteries, camera film, and all the food was gone.   Expected.  I quietly made my way to the pharmacy area.  Tweaks and junkies had been there, and succeeded in beating the lock off the controlled substances locker.  They left all the antibiotics there.  Dumbasses are already dead I bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amoxycillin, Zithromax, levaquin, all the good stuff.   I put all I could in the ruck.  Rubbing alcohol, bandages, everything I could grab.  I went to open the storage room door, and a right hand lunged out and tried to grab me.  I still had the rifle slung across me, but the ruck was behind me now.  About 35 years old, dark hair that looked almost green and matted down, average build.  Skin was gray, and his eyes were lifeless and void.  Did I know him from this store?  It charged forward fast, trying to bite me.  My heel caught the ruck, and I felt myself going down backwards.  I got my left hand under its right elbow as I fell, and took it with me, moving its head away from mine, and by fortunate coincidence driving its right eye socket into a sharp corner of the step stool that was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up, and turned around ready.  I realized I was much more coordinated than the body of this poor soul.  I could have shot it, but for some reason, I didn't.  I knew my training was a weakness now because I instinctively waited for a deadly force cue rather than taking the initiative.  It lunged again with a right hand for my throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seized its right hand against my chest with my own right hand, flipped the wrist over, using my chest as the foundation for the lock, grabbed its elbow with my left hand and cranked HARD.  I could feel the tendons in the wrist giving way and the bones grinding unnaturally together with a sickening and grotesque sound.  I knew its wrist was broken, but it didn't seem to care.  It actually leaned further INTO the wrist lock to try and bite me.  This caused its forearm bones to separate and twist against eachother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing teeth were about 9 inches from my face, and that pain wasn't on this thing's radar, I had to bargain that leverage was.  I had dealt with people high on PCP before, and I knew what worked and what didn't.  I stepped back fast, tugging the wrist out, and straightening the elbow.  I retained control of the wrist, as my left hand slammed on the elbow joint.  I spun back and right, and drove its head once again downward into the same damn footstool.  I stepped on the shoulder, rested the suppressor on the back of its head, flicked off the safety, and jerked the trigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hadn't scratched or bit me, but I realized that there are different rules with these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip back was much harder thanks to all the effort I expended.  I took one out about a half mile out of the CVS.  It came out of a church and ran right towards me.  A Woman. When it was about 75 yards away I put one in its hips, causing the pelvis to split, and its legs buckled.  It was immobilized, and I figured if it howled, it was far enough away that It would draw them away from my street.  I took to jumping fences again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the best part of the story.  I hear a dog barking.  I head that way and see a german shepherd type dog circling two Z's and trying to get a piece of their ass without getting too close.  It looks like a police dog or something.   A couple rounds later the problem is solved and he starts running along side me!  Like the fucker's known me for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renee drops the ladder at the house as I arrive, and I climb up and toss the ruck and the rifle in to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are there looking and watching the dog.  A hopeful expression on their faces as I climb back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were overjoyed as I came up that ladder, with the dog nervously perched on my shoulders in a fireman's carry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since he was busy getting his 'Zombie on' when I found him, the kids want to call him "Zoon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine with me.  He's a belgian Malinois.  I hope he's a good guard dog, because those things are just too damn tough to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Fargo007&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4819501966329996786?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4819501966329996786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-650pm.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4819501966329996786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4819501966329996786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-650pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 6:50pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-728229230445138418</id><published>2009-09-21T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:27:35.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 6:36pm</title><content type='html'>We can finally rest now, but I will not let my guard down. Even the sounds from outside seem to be muted. It is the quietest around twilight, as the sun sets or rises. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maybe because of the shifting light?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Time to go through the backlog of mail. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The hope for humanity lies in the light of the survivors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Be safe, and watch your six.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-728229230445138418?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/728229230445138418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-636pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/728229230445138418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/728229230445138418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-636pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 6:36pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-609363285238418874</id><published>2009-09-21T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T18:47:40.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sept. 21, 2009 - 3:45 PM</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE GENERATOR IS BACK ONLINE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,  at Sept. 1st 12:02am. The Husky 5000w generator finally failed on us. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Running 24-7, I knew it was only matter of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going through the inventory from my excursion outside a few days before. Suddenly &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Blink*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood there in the garage, pitch black darkness around me. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It took some time in that blackness to fully comprehend the ramifications of my situaton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some that can full on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SPRINT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; fast&lt;/span&gt;. I have seen a number of them. Those are the ones that haunt my dreams and my reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but why? why are they even here?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 shot, 1 of them drops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Power in the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-609363285238418874?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/609363285238418874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-345-pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/609363285238418874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/609363285238418874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/sept-21-2009-345-pm.html' title='Sept. 21, 2009 - 3:45 PM'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1809900875008271379</id><published>2009-08-29T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T20:13:02.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:28pm</title><content type='html'>Battery is critical. Last post before I sign off for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lblair57&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Oh god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the refugees  are saying that NYC was bleached to try and stop the spread of the virus. They’re relaying reports that all of the major cities are infected. I wonder if Trenton or Philly will be next…….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things continue to get worse and chaos is the only constant. My band of people are freaking out! It’s been days with no power and very little news. Food and tempers are running short. Most of us are suburban marshmallows who never thought our world would change….. Fortunately, we’ve got a couple of people with tough balls and some experience. They’ve reconned a stone house a few miles away. Good fields of fire but no escape route.  Have not seen any of the living dead yet but the smoke and red glow is getting closer. Some of the parasitic looters have been thinned out with FMJ lead poisoning and only the liberals have any remorse.  Eight of these animals arrived in a pick-up and kicked in the door of the neighbors house. It was just getting dark and the neighbors had their generator running. We were laying low in the dark watching it unfold. We’d already picked our targets. The parasites weren’t looking for food or water, that we could have understood. No, these low lifes went straight for the booze and started busting stuff up. These animals were looking to inflict pain and suffering for fun. We watched as they started kicking the living shit out of the husband. The first blivits* head disappeared into a red mist before his next kick landed and he dropped like a sack of fecal matter. At a little over a 100 yards, on a calm evening,  it wasn’t a real impressive shot but the ballistics of a 168gr soft point were devastating. The others stopped in mid step and looked around. We dropped two more before they realized what was going on. The survivors grabbed the screaming wife and daughter and tried to escape. They came tumbling out of the front door running for their pathetic lives, dropping their loot and tripping over themselves. If they been organized or trained they might have broken left and right out of the door and maybe had a better chance of survival. Instead they all headed for the truck. We dropped four more of the sick bastards with four well placed shots. The wife and daughter ran over to our house. The lone surviving parasite made it to the pick-up before we all opened up and vented our anger on the sorry piece of crap. We left them there. In this heat they’ve already started to bloat with maggots…….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re moving out tonight. Heading west-north-west in a couple of RV’s looking for a safe and defendable place. Anyone of a like mind can join us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(* A bivit is a 5 pound sack stuffed with 10 pounds of shit.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1809900875008271379?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1809900875008271379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-928pm_29.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1809900875008271379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1809900875008271379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-928pm_29.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:28pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4323638322921972734</id><published>2009-08-29T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T20:08:07.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:26pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;" onclick="window.location='members/mjporreca/';"&gt;mjporreca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4323638322921972734?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4323638322921972734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-926pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4323638322921972734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4323638322921972734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-926pm.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:26pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4470321976248345484</id><published>2009-08-29T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T20:01:07.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:21pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;" onclick="window.location='members/mjporreca/';"&gt;Dan. P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Damn! I feel like I slept for days....even though its been a couple of hours. I dont hear the motorcycle idling anymore probably ran out of gas. It was only a matter of time. Oh Well I aquired a few useful items from my shopping endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  2 collapsible potable water containers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  1 case of surplus MRE's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  8 3-volt lithium batteries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  high powered range finding binoculars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  2 motion activated wildlife camera units&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  ATN 1st generation nightvision monocular&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;  Lansky multi-stone knife sharpening kit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad I never met my neighbor, by the looks of his apartment and the supplies I took we probably would have got along well. The big score was the NV (night Vision) monocular, although rudimentary by today's standards it is perfect for what I need. I did spot what appears to be a Stack-On gun locker in a closet, but didnt want to make any unnecessary noise jimmying it open. I'm definitely going back there with proper tools to quietly breech the safe. Its time for a nice U.S Military ham slice MRE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;span style="cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;" onclick="window.location='members/mjporreca/';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4470321976248345484?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4470321976248345484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-924pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4470321976248345484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4470321976248345484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-924pm.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:21pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-6836985122640622893</id><published>2009-08-29T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T20:12:51.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:14pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OutOfNamez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;Hi world or what's left of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here in front of some girl who I dont knows kitchen table with my best friend looking at&lt;br /&gt;what "I" no what "WE" have left to keep "US" alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the list reads as followed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt; MY 1954 TULU Russian SKS with 10 rounds of wolf FMJs, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;MY SIG P6 9mm pistol with 4 8 round mags of HP ammo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;MY PA 63 9x18 mak Back Up Gun with just 1 mag of HPs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt; And last but not least a 2liter of Coke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be fair "I" got my self into this. "I" should have known better then to listen to him and "MY" second brain and go halfway across town for some easy tail. Now look at me stuck in the middle of the hood with barely enough firepower to get out on a normal day and I should know&lt;br /&gt;I grew up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well no use crying over spilled milk or since I don't drink either. Man it has been one hell of a week and Ive learned alot about myself, people, this city,this world even and most importantly this outbreak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yes &lt;/span&gt;I know something  and its not rumor or something a friends babymamas brother told me it came from a member of the US national guard doing  house to house searches who I know is "in the know". But Ill save that for later, I have to go, the battery on this is about to die&lt;br /&gt;and I just wanted to vent, and before you say it, I know I am an asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I dont  get home alive, I sent my brother  a copy of the last 7 days of my life and he should already be posting it up for you to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright man Im done grab your shit"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(you mean the Coke)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yea and the SKS Ill drive so I got the pistols"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(what about the computer?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fuck it I got one at the house"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(can I drive?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You drive the RT? I told you when HELL froze over not when the world ends"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So till next time,&lt;br /&gt;Namez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-6836985122640622893?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6836985122640622893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-928pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6836985122640622893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6836985122640622893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-928pm.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:14pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2301266490024991492</id><published>2009-08-29T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T19:59:30.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:08pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;Drak… As far as your gas situation goes, we have already caught more than one person trying to steal gas out of my truck. I have it parked in my back yard along with my wife’s SUV. We have them blocking in the back deck so it will be harder to enter the house. Plus we can keep and eye on the vehicles easier. I’ve also put up my Hurricane shutters to better secure us as im not sure whats going on with all of this rain and deteriorating environment. Im wondering if a Hurricane is coming or if a severe low pressure system has parked on top of us. As far as the people trying to steal fuel, Im assuming its for their generator as well. After brief negotiations with myself and a 12 gauge (Don’t worry no shots were fired) and they clearly didn’t feel like fighting in the middle of a monsoon. I gave them a few gallons to try and keep my community together. I don’t mind because my boat holds 42 gallons and it safely locked away in the garage….and siphoning some out is not a problem. Out of sight… out of mind. Luckily though the electric has been ON about fifty percent of the time, so when its on everything is pretty much operations normal, everybody hurries and takes a hot shower and we even try and get a load of laundry done! Kinda funny… it seems like the end of the world and were doing a load of laundry, gotta stay clean I guess! We could go outside and wash ... umm...screw that!.... and again…. We would like to maintain a low profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the electricity is off im surprised on how long my battery backup keeps my router and switch up for my internet access. I have timed my laptop battery to three and a half hours so I know about how much I can use before needing a charge. Now I wish I would have gotten the bigger battery option when I was ordering it. Once again, hindsight is 20/20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to get concerned. It hasn’t stopped raining since I got home on the 20th. Im beginning to wonder if I should stop taking gas out of my boat? My house is up kinda on a little hill… probably a whopping 17 feet above sea level. I am starting to get a little worried as the ditches and roads are awash with water… maybe two to six inches deep in some areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, wasting time and hiding out, not only because its raining down pours outside, but we all have agreed that we should try and keep as low of a profile as possible. So far I have accumulated a few survivors. A few from church, a few family members and a marine corps buddy of mine thats out now. As soon as the rain slows, hopefully we will be able to scavenge for some food and some 12 volt batteries that I spoke about earlier. People have been trickling out of here a few families at a time, but to what avail? Where are they going, what will they find when they get there… and who are they in touch with and how? The only means of communication so far and any news has been this blog. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I guess this advice goes out to you MIKEN40.&lt;/span&gt; Stay put and stay out of sight. If your running into the infected… they will be half your trouble ( I have had only two encounters with them thus far). The other half are the ones still alive, that think they own everything that passes in front of them. Hence my new self taught lesson… there is nothing worse than trying to fight your way home. Only do it if you have too. I had too, I had my wife waiting for me. That’s how I got all banged up…… Good luck all, and keep your powder dry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;-End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2301266490024991492?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2301266490024991492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-916pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2301266490024991492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2301266490024991492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-916pm.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 9:08pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4877276436438538166</id><published>2009-08-29T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T21:34:08.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 29, 2009 - 8:52pm</title><content type='html'>I was outside for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9 hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The objective I set for myself in finding fuel for the generator was a success. However the situation outside has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning twilight, thinking hard on my options as I opened my 36 gun safe, I chose my STAG AR because of the illuminated reticule of which the Eotech 512 offeres in low light conditions. The rifle is solid and has proven to be a very reliable AR. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I should get around to posting a picture of this stick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; God bless this Country and the right to bear arms, for without which my family would be absolutely defenseless right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my home the same way as before, with the same ritual. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;call me superstitious.&lt;/span&gt; My wife shouldering the full stacked AK-107 over her back like she would with one of her Prada purses,  as she sealed the window. Instantly I was under open sky, my senses went into overdrive with the influx of adernaline.  Kneeling next to the window I looked up through the crack, wispering one last time to my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you Baby. I will be back as soon as I can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I took off jogging lowto the ground into to the small township fields behind my house, then across in the neighboring street back yard of row homes. Hugging the treeline and homes to hide my movement as much as possible, heading towards my first objective. Fuel.  Since the begining off all this my gut senses have told me be as silent as a shadow, and to not attract attention. I was right. This was my first lesson, and the first mistake I made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are bodies EVERYWHERE. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I did not&lt;/span&gt; notice them at first, as I headed on my course. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I did not&lt;/span&gt; notice them untill I made my first auidible sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first objective, was to find Gasoline. I found this at the traffic light intersection at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the cars within my neighborhood are either torched or have driven away. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Probably chocking the highways abandoned, or worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; A few wrecks line the streets though, but they are FUBAR. On my first recon, I noticed a massive 10 car (at least) pile up. A massive 4 way intersection collision. Most cars, some SUV, and one large flatbed heavy duty truck. Looks like when the power went out, so did this accident. Which must have been one of the many explosions we have heard since then broadcasting across the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the cars have already been tapped. Every drop of gasoline syphoned out. But not every car was empty on gas.  Most of the vehicles interiors where empty, but a few, ....god ....help us all.....I cannot describe in words the carnage inside those crushed metal cabins. Im not a surgion and have never seen major truama like that before, but from what i could see they looks like they have been feasted upon. My god those poor souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever I found scavaging outside, I knew I could not bring back to my house directly. It would cause to much attention to the specific location of my home. I would have to stash it close by in a hide and come back for it in the middle of the night to bring into the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I carried along with me the two 5 gallon gas cans I had. I was worried it wasnt going to be enough to take back. I resolved this issue in finding a large black 55 gallon drum the flatbed truck was carrying. Most importantly was the fact that the inside was clean and free from debry. Apart from a few dings and scratches from the collision, it was peftect for what I would need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55 gallons of Gas is to heavy for one person, so I had to roll the drum back to a safe stash location. Then I would fill it up 10 gallons at a time with my two red cans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; last&lt;/span&gt; trip, as I topped off the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; last&lt;/span&gt; gas can, I made my first critical mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was so overjoyed with what i had accomplished a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;laughed &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for the first time since all this happend.  I made a sound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where it all turned to &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my back was turned, the first of the Dead came at me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must let the batteries charge now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But before I do it is essential i get these next few transmissions out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4877276436438538166?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4877276436438538166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-910pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4877276436438538166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4877276436438538166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-29-2009-910pm.html' title='Aug. 29, 2009 - 8:52pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-802573440552683853</id><published>2009-08-28T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T19:37:12.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:50pm</title><content type='html'>This is Drakin's Wife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left the house at a crack of dawn.  The clock says its past noon...i am freaking out...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;where is he?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dan P.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally! Some time to write....or relax. whatever. Well I have exhausted my supply of timber, fasteners and energy!  Its been tense sneaking around and trying to fortify this hell hole. Upon my travels and observations these rotten "former" humans come in mass towards loud sound and assholes.....sorry, the guy WAS a dick!  Well I mean the poor bastard in Bldg S with that annoying ass motorcycle. His own ignorance led to his own demise, although it helps me out a ton.&lt;br /&gt;I snuck out my room to the vacated unit across the hall looking to scrounge up anything I could eat or drink or otherwise put to use. While scanning the room near the the kitchen window I hear ungodly yelling and banging from his balcony towards the end of the bldg. So this douchbag has his roommate in a dominating rear naked choke and is dragging him out the door to the balcony like a bouncer from a bar. The shambling corpses came in droves to the activity, moaning constantly and thrashing their hands or whatever appendages they had left at the commotion above. The asshole biker tries to launch his strangled friend over the railing so hard that he goes over too! The roommate is torn to shreds before he is even close to the ground! UGH what a nasty way to go, oh well..The prick somehow lunges himself away from the deceased mob below like a Heisman winning running back and unbelievably hits the ground on his feet and bolts to his bike across the parking lot. Some of the dead break free from their feast and lead chase, moaning loudly and flailing about. Suddenly the motorcycle came alive with a mechanical roar and instantly squealed across the lot towards the break in the buildings. He sped wildly around the curve with the ensuing mob behind him.....and AWAY FROM ME!!!! But, bad news! I now have noticed some of the undead must have been marathon runners because those son of a bitches sprinted after him VERY FAST. They looked the freshest killed of the bunch. I heard the sound of the bike open up on the main road..... the sound swirled quickly, then became a stationary idle. The screams in the distance pretty much explain themself. Bye Bye asshole!  Sorry no remorse for the ignorant... anyway the bike was still idling and hopefully attracted the mobs.&lt;br /&gt;That was my chance to quickly loot what I could from who I thought had anything of value....or nourishment. I left the unit across the hall and made a mad dash to the S blding entrance with Glock in hand. I slithered through the front door and tip toed up the steps..never know who or whats around every corner...I refuse to let my guard down. I grabbed the door knob of S-207. My lucky day! Unlocked! Noticing the renters truck with NRA stickers and a slew of hunting camo accents wasn't in the lot led me believe he was gone. Luckily no one or thing was in there with me! I went shopping! Still havent inventoried what I took.... after I snuck back here to my place.&lt;br /&gt;Oh hell, enough of this. I'm supposed to be relaxing now and thats what I'm going to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Trasmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-802573440552683853?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/802573440552683853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1250pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/802573440552683853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/802573440552683853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1250pm.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:50pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1766771518524507209</id><published>2009-08-28T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T18:38:11.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 5:05am</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highest priority&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find gasoline for the generator&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  am forced to go outside today. It is imperative I find more fuel.  The wife knows this and wants to come but it is just to dangerous outside. There is so much I would like to get off my mind and down into this journal, yet I am restricted by my power consumption. The food must stay cold among other things.  I could do so much more, if I only had the power. I must find a more reliable source.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can just feel the power draining from the battery of this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Netbook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such little time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost all the neighbors have packed up or have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappeared&lt;/span&gt; from sight. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They could be hiding in there like us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; has taken the time to board up any of windows though.  I am the only home on this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;culdesac&lt;/span&gt; of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;rowhomes&lt;/span&gt; that has taken the time to do so.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; glad I did that early on, there is no way i could risk the exposure to our home right now with the current state outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you that have posted here, I wish you all God Speed in this dark journey that has become a battlefront for us.  Watch your six, as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would say.  Seeing what is out there, if you let it, &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;The Dark &lt;/span&gt;can creep into your soul, but reading what is posted here from those of you who are riding out this mess,  I see &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The Light&lt;/span&gt;.  This is essential. Be cautious, but know that others who are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GOOD&lt;/span&gt; are out there. We stand together or we fall alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The sun is about to rise, I just finished my cup of black &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;coffie&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Time to get geared up to go outside.  At least this time I know exactly what is in store for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kills me to leave her alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1766771518524507209?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1766771518524507209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-505am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1766771518524507209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1766771518524507209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-505am.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 5:05am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-5488310769582739944</id><published>2009-08-27T21:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:58:43.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:36pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The strong survive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; miken40&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Drak, what a huge relief to hear that others are dealing ok with all this. I’m in our cabin up in the Poconos with the wife and kids and we were caught completely off guard. First some reports on the radio, then we lost power, now nothing. We’re isolated up here so charged my Blackberry off the dynamo flashlight in the cabin and I took a chance hiking further down toward town to see if I could get a signal. I’m glad I found your blog ‘cause news on the web is either old or spotty and I don’t know what to believe. So far we haven’t seen any of “them” but I feel pretty good about our short term security because I brought along my 12 gauge to do some shooting. Now I’m conserving shells though because I &lt;span class="Object" id="OBJ_PREFIX_DWT46"&gt;may&lt;/span&gt; need it to hunt or fight. We were only supposed to be up here for a week so we only have a week’s worth of food, maybe more if we conserve. Water’s fine for now. Not sure what to do. Do we stay put or make a try for home? Starve here or risk running into “them” closer to civilization. We haven’t told the kids yet what’s going on. Why freak them out. I’ll try to stay in touch but the hike to a cell signal is about three or four miles and I don’t know if the signal will be here next time I come. If you have any advice, please post it here. Good luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batteries are dangerously low. I used the last of the gas filling the generator.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have an idea on where I might find some fuel too keep the lights on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will reply to you all, I &lt;span&gt;promise&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-5488310769582739944?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5488310769582739944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1236pm_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5488310769582739944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5488310769582739944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1236pm_27.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:36pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-6436091357628994911</id><published>2009-08-27T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T22:14:08.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:36pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Drackinclaw&lt;/span&gt;… thanks for chatting with me the other night, Ill look for a Ham radio so maybe we can talk. I gotta say…..your neighborhood looks terrible! We are no where near that bad of shape, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not close to any major cities either. Do you think those fires are being set on purpose, or a by product of fighting of some kind? Also how is your generator holding out? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; worried about running mine too much because of the noise in attracting “them” or other “guests”. I think I will try and scavenge some 12 volt batteries like maybe 6 or 7 and just top them off now and again. That way I can at least have some lights and keep my little 12 volt cooler/fridge running, and it would be a lot quieter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as me having to leave the chat so abruptly yesterday…. Ive heard of the term, “F$#@ me running in the rain”. I guess now it brings on a whole new meaning. It was raining so hard I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t tell who or what was chasing….. I will guess, and say a woman, because I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t clearly see down the street, it was coming down so damn heavy I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t really tell what was going on… but by the time I was able to get out to help they were already out of sight. So I don’t know if “they” got her or not. It sucks that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t help fast enough. My leg got wrenched in the “accident”, if you could call it that, trying to get home a few days ago. My heads also got a severe gash in it, so my wife has now given me a buzz cut so we can keep an eye on it. All those years of sitting behind a desk has taken its toll too. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; really, really feeling out of shape, and it almost cost me my life getting home… but Ill go more into that later. Its time for me to check on the flooding situation…. Its still pouring out. Hang in there all of you, and watch your six.&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-6436091357628994911?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6436091357628994911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1236pm.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6436091357628994911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6436091357628994911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1236pm.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:36pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-1350882921969550531</id><published>2009-08-27T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T20:36:51.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:06pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;OK. There it is. Christ, this LED headlamp I bought has proven to be&lt;br /&gt;priceless to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Fathers radio is an old Collins KWM-380. This thing is built like&lt;br /&gt;a tank and weighs almost 50 pounds. He had it all set up for Field&lt;br /&gt;Day with a couple of 12V leads and battery clamps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hauled the old beast upstairs. To power it, I pulled the battery&lt;br /&gt;from the new Toro riding lawn mower in the garage.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Somehow, I not real&lt;br /&gt;worried about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the lawn right now and I'd rather not run the generator anymore than&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;absolutely necessary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed about 6 feet of old lamp cord and inserted it into the&lt;br /&gt;antenna jack on the back of the radio. Not good for transmitting,&lt;br /&gt;but it is OK for receiving if I remember correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I powered up the old rig. I was greeted by the familiar glow&lt;br /&gt;of the display. I cannot describe the feeling of freedom we had.&lt;br /&gt;It meant a possible new form of communication. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;REAL TIME God &lt;br /&gt;miss cell phones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tuned around a little to see if the BBC was out there. Hell,&lt;br /&gt;I'd would have even settled for one of those religious stations&lt;br /&gt;right then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I got Nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess most of these stations have moved on to satellite or&lt;br /&gt;internet radio or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought about the HAM bands. There's gotta be somebody&lt;br /&gt;out there flapping their jaw about what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird. There was nothing but some kind of odd warbling noise.&lt;br /&gt;Even if someone were talking, I couldn't hear shit over that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, it was worth a try. I guess this old radio really is&lt;br /&gt;shot after all. May as well quit farting around and get back&lt;br /&gt;to reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I heard &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt;. It is faint and I almost missed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tuned the dial to better pick up the faint station I was&lt;br /&gt;hearing on 11.545 Megahertz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 320px;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="68"&gt;&lt;param value="http://media.imeem.com/m/HUNg1TimOL/aus=false/" name="movie"&gt;&lt;param value="transparent" name="wmode"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/HUNg1TimOL/aus=false/" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="320" height="68"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt; float: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-1350882921969550531?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1350882921969550531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1206pm.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1350882921969550531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/1350882921969550531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-1206pm.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 12:06pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-5581057132456815142</id><published>2009-08-27T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:31:32.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 28, 2009 - 7:43am</title><content type='html'>Still no contact with the family. The wife's or mine. Iv reached out in every way possible &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or at least every medium that still functions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Which is fundamentally just the net. Could they be in a worse situation than I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm very worried. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;water is being consumed faster than expected&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nearly almost out of gasoline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-5581057132456815142?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5581057132456815142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-501pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5581057132456815142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5581057132456815142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-28-2009-501pm.html' title='Aug. 28, 2009 - 7:43am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-267436913145525014</id><published>2009-08-26T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T20:18:04.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 26, 2009 - 11:16pm</title><content type='html'>There are others out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Communications from an RRC Chat with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;I was doing some searching on the internet on what the hell is happening and found your blog. Thank God there are other people out there attempting to keep in touch. With everything going on in the news I started taking my AR to work with me, leaving it in the truck of course….LOL… I cant imagine the looks from co-workers I would get dressed up in a suit and tie with an AR-15 draiped across my chest. Its my little bushmaster that I put together with LMT stock and eo-tech 552 on a larue riser. I just put a Daniel Defense backup iron sight on it as well. It also has a Midwest industries 4 rail hand guard with a black Tango Down for grip. Its not a bad blaster, but not as accurate as a nice bolt gun by any means. I started taking it to work with me back a few months ago when the stock market was diving down 300 to 500 points in a day. It would suck to have all my gear at home and be miles away if rioting started, and no way to protect myself. I didn’t really want to take time off… yea … I know… dumb move on my part, but I didn’t know if all of this was just media garbage or really happening…. Now I know it’s the latter. You know what they say, hindsight is 20/20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know where all you ya’ll are from…. But down here in sunny florida its been raining A LOT. Lemme be the first to tell ya… It seems to act as an amplifier to every bodies panic down here….. this state is being chocked off I think…no food trucks… publix is ….. shit… gotta go … theres someone screaming outside….. brb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="postbody"&gt;- End of communications&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-267436913145525014?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/267436913145525014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-1116pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/267436913145525014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/267436913145525014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-1116pm.html' title='Aug. 26, 2009 - 11:16pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-6427439033731906065</id><published>2009-08-26T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T19:13:39.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 25, 2009 - 10:05pm</title><content type='html'>Before I log of, here are some uploaded pictures of what I could take clearly, while I was out on the 24th. I did not want to linger in one spot for to long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/?action=view&amp;current=outside_1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/outside_1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/?action=view&amp;current=outside_2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/outside_2.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/?action=view&amp;current=outside_3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/outside_3.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-6427439033731906065?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6427439033731906065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-1005pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6427439033731906065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/6427439033731906065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-1005pm.html' title='Aug. 25, 2009 - 10:05pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4659005587817264573</id><published>2009-08-26T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T19:31:16.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 26, 2009 - 9:56pm</title><content type='html'>The more I read, the more cautious I get around the windows. The wife had a good idea to cover all of them with heavy drapes to cancel any light pollution from leaving our house at night. The last thing I need to deal with is attracting one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or many&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dead&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mjporreca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Containment in the city broke and news spread like a wildfire in all directions. We all thought the smart ones went east into New Jersey because not as many of the creatures were crossing the bridges. But when word got out that New York and Baltimore quarantines had collapsed too all those people had the ocean on one side, and literally a sea of bodies, alive and dead, on the other. I’m glad we are out West of Philly. The “experts” are saying major cities will have the biggest concentrations, so people should avoid them. The internet is now full of reports and information about the dead coming to life and feeding on the living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For right now a bunch of us have banded together with weapons and are gathering supplies. Our neighborhood has a nice view all the way down to the Schuylkill River. We stood around for hours asking each other if this was really happening, or was this some new War of the Worlds hoax. One neighbor said she got a text message from her brother who had locked himself in his house. She heard constant pounding and wailing in the background. He was terrified. She was convinced it’s all real, but we were all still having trouble accepting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s when we saw the first one. A man came shuffling up the street. He was 50 or 60 yards away. We thought he was just tired and struggling up the hill. None of us recognized him. My neighbor’s daughter was the first to notice anything wrong. She asked, “Mommy, why doesn’t that man have a chin?” She was right. As the thing’s head bobbed up and down, she had the best view. Its jaw was completely missing, tongue, chin and a hunk of the throat all gone. The black shirt we thought he was wearing was really white with dried blood. Some of us were frozen; staring in disbelief. The rest screamed and ran, grabbing any children that happened to be there. The moaning started. That blood curdling moan that you feel in your spine. It snapped me out of the trance I was in. Reached back and pulled out the .45 I had on my belt. The 1911 boomed loudly as I fired 3 rounds. The first hit square in the dead man’s chest stopping his step. The next a little higher, in what was left of his gaping mouth. The shot sprayed out behind his head. The third shot, the bull’s-eye, square in the forehead. The zombie’s head snapped back, and the rest of him followed like a falling tree. For a minute no one moved. Then slowly, pistol pointed at the creature, a few of us moved towards it. The rest went to get weapons of their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven’t seen any contacts recently, but I’m sure they’ll be here soon. I’m worried about how much light we’ll have tonight. The plan is to run tripwires with cans, bells, and whatever we have as an early warning system. Then use our car headlights to see what to shoot. I wish we had more time. Hopefully we will be ready to move in the morning and have a plan on where to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between us we have over 10,000 rounds in various calibers. Run, stay, neither option seems good at the moment. I’m amazed how focused everyone is. No one is tiring, no one is stopping. Windows are being boarded, food is being stacked. Water, gasoline, tools, first aid kits are getting set aside for whatever it is we are going to do. About the half the neighbors fled. Traffic was a mess. I’m praying for a quiet night, and some answers in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4659005587817264573?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4659005587817264573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-956pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4659005587817264573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4659005587817264573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-956pm.html' title='Aug. 26, 2009 - 9:56pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-5550956996581905027</id><published>2009-08-26T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T19:21:57.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 26, 2009 - 7:46pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mjporreca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I've been trying to find out what's going on since the order for people to stay in their homes started. From what I've been able to find online, a lot of people are without power, I guess in that regard we're lucky. The T.V is showing nothing and the 24 news channels are off air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around noon I noticed the police starting to knock on people's doors. They were moving house to house, so I had a while before they got to mine. Stories of the Katrina aftermath came back to me. I’ll sacrifice a few for the good of the many. After about an hour, A National Guard Humvee pulled up and handful of guardsmen started assisting the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the knock came. I cracked the door. The first thing I noticed were the black circles under the officers eyes, which were even more pronounced because most of the color was drained out of his face. He coughed, trying to clear his throat, but seemed to relax when took a good look at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he got his questions. He asked if everyone who lived here was home. I told him yes, myself my wife and my son. He asked if any of us were sick, or overly tired, or seemed out of sorts. I told him no, but could tell he really didn't care about the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him what was going on, and why we were being told to stay inside. He said, there is a state of emergency declared and information will be given as soon as it's available. I pressed him for what the emergency was and waited for the rehearsed lines in response, but they didn't come. He leaned in close and whispered to me. The officer told me he didn't know exactly what it was, but something happened in the city, and it had to be bad. A lot of people must be dead. He said he wasn't supposed to say this, but to pack up and get the hell out when we got the chance, and if I had any guns, keep them loaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That all happened 5 hours ago, now the sun is going down. Since then I've seen every theory imaginable posted somewhere. Terrorist attack, biological weapons, aliens have landed, but I fear the worst. I think this might be the one thing every hard working, God fearing, country loving American fears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's hope I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of trasmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-5550956996581905027?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5550956996581905027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-746pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5550956996581905027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/5550956996581905027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-26-2009-746pm.html' title='Aug. 26, 2009 - 7:46pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4497513526629880642</id><published>2009-08-25T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T21:20:52.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 25, 2009 - 11:35pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;News from the outside world, but it is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV station that had been showing the color bars test pattern has&lt;br /&gt;gone off the air along with all the others. Even though it was&lt;br /&gt;useless for information, there was something oddly comforting&lt;br /&gt;about being able to turnon the TV and at least see something on&lt;br /&gt;the screen. Now it's all just useless static.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/?action=view&amp;current=static.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/static.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the AM news stations are also off the air, but there's one&lt;br /&gt;FM station that's still broadcasting. Unfortunately, it's&lt;br /&gt;playing an endless loop of obnoxious '80s music and&lt;br /&gt;advertisements for sales that ended &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;days&lt;/span&gt; ago. If I hear&lt;br /&gt;"Walking on Sunshine" one more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;frickin&lt;/span&gt;' time. Ill use the&lt;br /&gt;radio for target practice to sight and tune in my RPK.&lt;br /&gt;I opened the 720rnd.spam can of Brown Bear 7.62x39, which I&lt;br /&gt;never thought I would open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish I could figure out what's going on out there&lt;br /&gt;and how widespread this aberration is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute. What an idiot I've been. What about my&lt;br /&gt;Fathers old HAM radio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read this article that made me remember I had one all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;anonymous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; writer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Back when I was a kid, my Dad did everything he could&lt;br /&gt;to get me interested in HAM radio. He was hardcore.&lt;br /&gt;Only Morse Code ('CW', he called it) for him. Anyone&lt;br /&gt;that used a mic and actually talked to other people&lt;br /&gt;was a second class citizen, as far as he was&lt;br /&gt;concerned. I studied for the tests and actually&lt;br /&gt;passed them, but I could never get the hang of Morse&lt;br /&gt;Code so I never got my license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad tried to keep me interested by using his radio to&lt;br /&gt;tune into all sorts of shortwave broadcasts from&lt;br /&gt;around the world. I used to listen to the BBC World&lt;br /&gt;Service, Radio Free Europe and Radio &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Afrika&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;International. I'd think of the exotic places these&lt;br /&gt;radio stations were reaching and the folks that were&lt;br /&gt;listening in. It distracted me from my mundane&lt;br /&gt;suburban existence, at least for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before my Dad passed away, he was gearing up to&lt;br /&gt;work another "Field Day" with a bunch of his HAM&lt;br /&gt;buddies. He did this every year and told Mom that&lt;br /&gt;it was all about "being prepared". I suspect it was&lt;br /&gt;as much that as it was an excuse to go camping&lt;br /&gt;with some buddies, play with his radio toys and maybe&lt;br /&gt;drink a beer or two.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. Enough nostalgia. Back to the situation at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go see if I can bring it back to life.&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4497513526629880642?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4497513526629880642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-1135pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4497513526629880642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4497513526629880642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-1135pm.html' title='Aug. 25, 2009 - 11:35pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-4988211378077456105</id><published>2009-08-25T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T19:31:41.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 25, 2009 - 7:42pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="PresenceContainer"&gt;fargo007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="PresenceContainer"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“TARGET”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I'm momentarily reminded of how much I enjoyed watching her tiny but precise fingers form guitar chords when I taught her to play.  Now, even in these dire circumstances I still feel that same pride as I see her tiny fingers rotating the large elevation knob on the NightForce 3.5-15x50, as she counts off 3.25 Minutes of elevation.    &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Got it Dad.”  She exclaims, as we watch the edges of the lonely glow on the ground, cast there by the only remaining street light.   I Milled the stop sign right next to it.   It is exactly 350 yards away.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Keep that bolt up until we have a target kiddo.  Got that?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt; I'm looking through my own Nightforce down the same alleyway of houses that leads to a more populated street.  Both rifles are condition 1, with a round in the chamber, and each sporting a fat AICS mag of nine 175 Sierra Matchkings underneath.  This distance is a joke for these rigs, but the cases of water and canned food downstairs remind me we're paid to be here, people are depending on us, and we need to follow through on what we promised we would do.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Ughhhh!!!....  Dad... you don't have to keep telling me every single .....”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;b&gt;TARGET. “&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;350 yards, 11 o' clock, left edge of the intersection, no wind, slow mover, center hold is fine!”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I had tuned out her pre-teen diatribe, as Dad's are apt to do.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I hear hear “prepare” breath escape gently as the bolt knob of the FN SPR slowly and precisely drops into place.  I recognize the faint sound of shuffling as she finds her natural point of aim.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Shooter Ready”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Send”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;i&gt;Sending&lt;/i&gt;”    &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;The rifle barks loudly, and the recoil causes her 11 year old frame to slide to the rear about a half inch on top of the series of dressers that we have set up as a shooting platform next to the window.  This is foreign on so many levels...  Ordinarily I'd be in the back of the room, shooting through a hole I'd gouge into one of the dressers or other furniture.   It's not like that this time.   We don't have to worry about light discipline,  a barrel being spotted, or any other target indicator.   I've not grown lazy.   These issues don't matter, and that's good, because I haven't had a chance to work with her on them yet.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“HIT!”  I exclaim, the cheerful excitement of a father in my voice as I watch the shock from 175 grains of hurt smash hard into the high torso of the humanoid figure, almost bending it 90 degrees back from the legs in an grotesque contortion before its head slammed into the ground with significant force.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I turn to congratulate her on the shot only to be pelted in the cheek by hot brass, as she smartly resourced the rifle with her eye still on the glass, and the target still in the crosshairs.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“C'mon Dad.......  You're goofing off again.”   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I can see it still writing, but only from about the shoulders upward.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Should we hit it again?”  She wondered aloud, her eye still rock steady on the Nightforce.    "I've got a clear outline of the head against the curb now.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“Holy Mackrel!!!”  I roll my eyes, as I drop back onto my own glass. The McMillan A5 feels like home to my shoulder as I tuck tight into the rifle glass the area for other threats.   Finding no other, and knowing she's ready to show me something, I catch her cheek straining a wry smile as I give her exactly what she's been waiting for.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;b&gt;TARGET.”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="PresenceContainer"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-4988211378077456105?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4988211378077456105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-742pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4988211378077456105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/4988211378077456105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-742pm.html' title='Aug. 25, 2009 - 7:42pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-582820361159991842</id><published>2009-08-25T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T19:32:08.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 25, 2009 - 3:12pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="PresenceContainer"&gt;lblair57&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;All hell is breaking loose and people are freaking OUT!. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There are now mobs of refugees filling the roads.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;SUV’s, pick-ups, RV’s and cars with bundles of crap tried on top and on the sides and the trunks dragging low from the weight of&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;whatever they could take with them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It looks like a mass exodus from Bombay. Some of them are on foot. They are dazed and dirty with smoke blotched faces and torn clothes. They just wander around aimlessly trying to keep moving in the same direction as the mob. The more coherent ones say that the army was keeping the populace from moving west, but the army has been overrun. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They say a virus started in NYC. They think is was the jihadist. The virus kills living flesh and then energizes the central nervous system basically creating walking dead. The sole purpose of these decomposing corpese’s is to feed on and infect other carbon based life forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- End of Transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-582820361159991842?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/582820361159991842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-312pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/582820361159991842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/582820361159991842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-312pm.html' title='Aug. 25, 2009 - 3:12pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-423032181055401754</id><published>2009-08-25T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T19:19:07.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 25, 2009 - 2:45pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Absolute desolation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right outside my door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is foreign. Nothing looks the same. I thought I was prepared for what I would see, but I was not.  This is already the next day after I went out, and I am still at a loss for words on how to describe this. I have been working non-stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went out, it was through the backyard kitchen window. I did not want to risk breaking the seal on the barricaded doors located in the front and back of the house.  It would cause to much noise, so I quietly removed the 5 redwood planks from the window, took a deep breath, kissed my wife hard, and then climbed through the window as quietly as i could. She sealed it up after me with the deck screws,&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the batteries on those ryobi cordless tools are really starting to get low. They suck up so much juice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could still hear her cursing silently about leaving her alone as I silently stalked away in the early dawn. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But I needed to know what the situation was outside, I had no choice.&lt;/span&gt; She knows how to defend heyself and plus she has my Stag Arms AR-15 w/eotech holographic sight and 25 stacked mags to back her up. Shell be fine for 2 hours. Dressing in my khaki eotac operator pants, desert tan USMC Boots and OD T-shirt, the gear I wore was only what I absolutely needed, or what I would consider ruggedly essential. Considering what I could see from the view of my house, the panic on the net, and the fact that the word on the street is the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DEAD&lt;/span&gt; are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RISING&lt;/span&gt;, I took protection very seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ak-107  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dark plum Grips and triangle folding stock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;8 - 30 round 7.62x39 steel magazines&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Multicam Esstac Bush Boar Rig &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;holds 8 30 round magazines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;xd 45&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;4 - 13 round .45 acp magazines&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;K-BAR D2 Knife &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Cutting tests prove that D2 is one of the toughest steels used in knife making.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oakley "Gascan Frame" prescription glasses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt; for eye protection, ear protection is foam plugs but i left those in my pocket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;100 feet of paracord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Camel Back Hydration bladder 50 oz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bynoculars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Digital camera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Backpack &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with various small items such as first aid kit, ect.  I really should consider with more time, everything I should have in this to keep my wife and I alive. If we ever needed to get out fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Chewy Granola bar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hey its still food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;But those 2 hours turned into 6. As to why, that will be for anouther journal entry. I am exausted.  Just to survive, takes imeasurable energy. Then to recount everything I have witnessed.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I returned, nervous and full of panic. Remaining as low and tight to the fence as possible, I tapped the window 5 times in a specific order. (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i cannot describe to you how much hell i got from my wife being 4 hours late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) When I was inside, I then determined our house is not nearly fortified enough for what is out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just go on the net and read for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quarantine zones are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-423032181055401754?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/423032181055401754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-245pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/423032181055401754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/423032181055401754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-25-2009-245pm.html' title='Aug. 25, 2009 - 2:45pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2007314197189126588</id><published>2009-08-24T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T20:02:01.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 24, 2009 - 5:36am</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the past 30 minutes while I wait for the sun to rise, I have just read 20 personal accounts from different people all within various areas of quarantine zone closer to the city.  The next thing I am about to say may sound crazy, even I could not believe it at first, but if you read what I have read and viewed within the last 30 minutes.  You would believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The general panic is that the DEAD are RISING. This cannot be the cause of all this chaos? can it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets worse though, this panic is spreading along with the dead.  Reportedly 4 quarantine checkpoints have already been breached.  North, South, East, and West.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most convincing account, is from Dan P. himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;I gotta get outta here! I cant believe what it is...I left my room and started down the hall and the door looked as if it was pounded for years with a sledge hammer.  I approached slowly and cautiously and thudded the door with my boot. Almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;instantaneously&lt;/span&gt; the door slammed against me like a bus and knocked me on my side hard as shit.  Without hesitation that 'thing' scratched at me furiously around the felled door and grinding its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;miserably&lt;/span&gt; fucked up teeth. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;godamn&lt;/span&gt; door on top of me pinned my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;serpa&lt;/span&gt; holster to the floor underneath my side where i could not unlock it and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;frantically&lt;/span&gt; tried to rip my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Glock&lt;/span&gt; outta the holster to no avail. In a blind rage I thrust upward with all my might slamming the door into that motherfucker. The force ripped his left arm off as i hammered it between the door jamb. I tumbled down the hallway and knocked  the hall fire extinguisher right off the wall, mount and all! I grabbed the extinguisher with both hands and belted the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ghastly&lt;/span&gt; monstrosity in the head until it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; move anymore.....I spit on the corpse and dashed back into my room and barricaded that bitch good! It was close but I'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt; glad I was on the winning end. I knew what was out there, but I just wouldn't allow myself to believe it.....well its sure as shit for real now! From now on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; wearing the drop leg holster, that belt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;serpa&lt;/span&gt; had a real limitation at REAL BAD TIME. Hats off to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;blackhawk&lt;/span&gt; though, I went down hard on it and there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; a scratch on it or my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;glock&lt;/span&gt;. Well i need to drink now and unwind...maybe load some more AK mags. I think its gonna be an interesting afternoon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2007314197189126588?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2007314197189126588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-24-2009-536am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2007314197189126588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2007314197189126588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-24-2009-536am.html' title='Aug. 24, 2009 - 5:36am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-717983324027311265</id><published>2009-08-24T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T18:45:21.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 24, 2009 - 4:33am.</title><content type='html'>Just woke up, sun is not up yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batteries are starting to run low. TV has only one single broadcasting, channel 2, and its a static colored bar image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/?action=view&amp;current=08-24-09.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o242/drakinclaw/08-24-09.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start getting geared up to go outside and do recon around the house at sunrise. Seems the quietest around then. I need to know whats out there, but I do not know what to expect. Nor do I know the true cause as to the lock down sunset curfew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-717983324027311265?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/717983324027311265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-24-2009-433am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/717983324027311265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/717983324027311265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-24-2009-433am.html' title='Aug. 24, 2009 - 4:33am.'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-8756710411975017424</id><published>2009-08-23T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T16:58:07.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 22, 2009 - 5:56pm</title><content type='html'>- Transmission from lblair57&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WTF is going on!?  There are columns of black smoke off to the east. The TV is showing re-runs or  the test pattern…..Electric power comes and goes…My neighbors have heard rumors of civil unrest, but other than the billowing smoke there’s no confirmation. I took a drive earlier and everything is closed. The only traffic I saw were first responders and they looked like they knew what they were about.  Serious and focused. Four or more to a vehicle. No time stop to talk but they eye-balled me pretty closely. You could see that their vehicles were bristling with weapons including M-79 grenade launchers and LAWs. These guys are ready for some shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m locked and loaded and keeping watch on the street from the second story corner windows. My wife is scanning the back yard through the sliding glass patio doors with her AR-10. Both kids have their AK’s ready to rock and roll.  We’re all wearing web gear with extra mags. It’ll be dark soon.  Nobody has any night vision gear. The sun is setting in the west and we can see a red glow reflected off the smoke to the east.  Tonight we’ll hunker down in the basement with a couple of neighbors. We’ll keep 2 armed guards on 2 hour shifts till the sun comes up. We have plenty of water but food will be an issue in a couple of days. We’re re-packing our go-bags but for now we’ll wait and see what our next move will be.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of transmission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-8756710411975017424?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8756710411975017424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-22-2009-556pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8756710411975017424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8756710411975017424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-22-2009-556pm.html' title='Aug. 22, 2009 - 5:56pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-8862479181441024085</id><published>2009-08-23T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T10:27:19.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 22, 2009 - 5:03pm</title><content type='html'>Seems like I have been making more decisions lately I would have found absolutely crazy a week ago.  Spent the better part of the morning ripping up the floor boards from my backyard deck.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Such as shame too, they where stained a beautiful redwood color.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I worked as silently, the neighborhood was sporadic with different sounds.  Sounds that, quite honestly, I have never experienced before in real life. Closest thing I could describe it to is some  some war torn movie taking place in Serbia, and that's what it sounds like outside my door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There where a few planks where stubborn and would not budge. When they did, they groaned as the nail was pryed out of the wood they have been set in the last 10 years. Wincing along the way,  last thing I want is to draw attention to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the be  planks cover all the windows of my house, except for a few places that have a tactical angle to view the surrounding area. First and second floor.  I used screws instead of nails to remain as silent as possible.  Now that our house is secure i can focus on other things.  I need to find time to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 gallons of gas reamining&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 days of food&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;20 days of water&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-8862479181441024085?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8862479181441024085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-22-2009-503pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8862479181441024085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8862479181441024085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-22-2009-503pm.html' title='Aug. 22, 2009 - 5:03pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2603943280729940626</id><published>2009-08-22T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T16:57:23.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 22, 2009 - 6:33am</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Finally, some contact with one of my closest friends, through an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;RRC&lt;/span&gt; chat. Tough as nails this kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is what he wrote that is the most disturbing. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Read for yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Communications from an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;RRC&lt;/span&gt; Chat with Dan P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt; Nothing is the same now, since the 24hr curfew, this apartment complex is like a prison. Its hot as hell in here and I'm beginning to lose hope on the electric. The cops all disappeared this morning and even stranger those damn helicopters vanished. I wish they had stayed, the chilling sounds from F bldg are deafening. It really smells like a giant dumpster in here and its hard to breath. I drilled a few more vent holes threw the timbers blocking the windows.... well before the batteries went dead for good. Im glad they lasted this long. Looks like the fire in C bldg finally burned itself out too. Christ!!!! WTF!!!!! Im LOSING MY MIND!!!!!!Who the fuck is banging on the hall door!!!......I cant take it anymore!  The moaning sound is strange but I think I know what it is and if im right its only gonna get worse. I have to know.......and its now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of communications&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2603943280729940626?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2603943280729940626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/finally-some-communications-with-one-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2603943280729940626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2603943280729940626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/finally-some-communications-with-one-of.html' title='Aug. 22, 2009 - 6:33am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2945688544359106699</id><published>2009-08-22T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:15:48.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 22, 2009 - 12:01am</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; feeling very vulnerable with my windows exposed, the doors are strong though. But its the windows that are the week point to this house. The wife is on supply detail, tallying up all the food and water we currently have in the house.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When was the last time we went food shopping at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BJ's&lt;/span&gt; Wholesale Club?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a linkfptr_1d66b8m="return rwt(this,'','','res','1','AFQjCNH1Lgw4WOCKBslE2D5R3HnL3nHmlA','&amp;amp;sig2=MNEL8Vi3P_uolW9pn4eMDg')" veridict_1d66b8m="OK" href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&amp;amp;source=web&amp;amp;ct=res&amp;amp;cd=1&amp;amp;url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.bjs.com%2F&amp;amp;ei=Ym-QSomrHNDJlAfIx4DCDA&amp;amp;usg=AFQjCNH1Lgw4WOCKBslE2D5R3HnL3nHmlA&amp;amp;sig2=MNEL8Vi3P_uolW9pn4eMDg" class="l" onmousedown="return rwt(this,'','','res','1','AFQjCNH1Lgw4WOCKBslE2D5R3HnL3nHmlA','&amp;amp;sig2=MNEL8Vi3P_uolW9pn4eMDg')"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Last week?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can tell she is worried about our external situation outside of our front door, but she doesn't show it. I try to not reveal my sense of panic it either. Nothing new to report on the TV, however two channels that where broadcasting last night are currently &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;white static&lt;/span&gt;.  There is something screaming inside me saying this situation outside is going to get worse before it gets better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I write this now, my Yugoslavian m-72 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;RPK&lt;/span&gt; with a 75 round drum mag in the well, is sitting beside me. Giving off its comforting look of wood and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;parkerized&lt;/span&gt; steel. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; hoping its presence alone will drive away any looters. About an our ago, a guy came sprinting full tilt down my street, hopped my neighbors clean white picket fence and dissapered behind the row of homes. Was that blood on his shirt? It must have just been my imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something was definately chasing that man, but it did not follow him down my street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; really need to get in touch with my family and friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2945688544359106699?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2945688544359106699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-feeling-very-vulnerable-with-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2945688544359106699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2945688544359106699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-feeling-very-vulnerable-with-my.html' title='Aug. 22, 2009 - 12:01am'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2027470275965978312</id><published>2009-08-21T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T09:08:39.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 21, 2009 - 4:55pm</title><content type='html'>Cell phone lines are jammed. Text messaging still works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The power grid went down at 7:20am this morning.  Running power off the small generator that I keep in the garage for now. I only have 5 gallons of gas to feed it.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; damn.&lt;/span&gt;   More importantly, I needed to test the web connection as it is my only source of information. The TV just plays 90's re-runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Fires&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;in the neighborhood.&lt;/span&gt; The black smoke rising in billows all around our area.  Mainly to the east.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not sure whats burning, but its big. &lt;/span&gt;  Our street is still untouched.  I can hear sirens in the distance all day, and what sounds like thunder.  But there are no clouds in the sky except for the burning  billows of black charred smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to figure out what is going to be my next move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2027470275965978312?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2027470275965978312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-21-2009-455pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2027470275965978312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2027470275965978312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-21-2009-455pm.html' title='Aug. 21, 2009 - 4:55pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-8579256859595320199</id><published>2009-08-20T20:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T13:34:33.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 20, 2009 - 11:54pm</title><content type='html'>Finally my first piece of real information.  I found the entry through one of the forums I check regularly. From what I can tell it seems local too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Thread intercept from &lt;span id="PresenceContainer"&gt;fargo007,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;"&lt;b&gt;Bro , Things aren't looking so good....”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ron Minatori, A good friend of mine works at a funeral home on Street Rd.  He bet me a thousand dollars that he had something come in that would absolutely freak me out.  I got calls like this perhaps once a year, and some were worth the trip. Others were not.  He knew I spent the last 20 years in law enforcement, so this had better be good, &lt;i&gt;I sez,&lt;/i&gt; as I braved the forty fucking traffic lights it takes to go the ¼ mile up that atrocious road.  Worse than usual?  Oh yeah.  I saw a crowd  of people gathered around the cemetery, and block after block of their parked cars along the road.  What, did a celebrity die?  People were in shorts &amp;amp; tee shirts though. This county has always been a bizarre mix of people ever since I moved here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pulling up the emergency brake on my truck in the back lot of the funeral home, I was greeted by the unusual sight of Minatori trying to light a cigarette that was literally bouncing up and down in his quivering, but tightly clenched lips.  I had never seen the man smoke.  After prying the lighter from his sweaty hands, and lighting the cigarette on his behalf, he looked at me, while the unfamiliar acrid smoke caused him to reflexively cough directly in my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“I ain't goin' back in there.”   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Ron – what the hell is going on?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He threw the cigarette down, and as he continued to speak, repeatedly ground and stomped it to oblivion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Pickup from the hospital.  30 year old male. Car accident.”  His short, choppy answers told me the real Minatori was in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Tore up pretty bad.  They finished the autopsy this morning.  Massive internal injuries.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sure that this wasn't the issue, I pressed further.  “So? Something you can't handle?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I went to push the unlocked door open and look inside.  I knew this was the “operational area” of the funeral home.   I felt his hand dig into my shoulder with force I had no idea he could muster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Watch it.  Just watch it, Understand???”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I entered the receiving area, where a body lay on a transport gurney.  It had lost its legs above or around both knees, and the condition of the rest of it was not so good. A Y-shaped autopsy scar with coarse stiches the length of the torso.  The organs are usually placed in a plastic bag, and sewn back into the torso, and I could spot pieces of the orange bag through rough gaps in the stitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A terrible sight, but nevertheless, I approached it.   I could feel Minatori approach behind and to my left as I looked at the side of the young man's head, which appeared undamaged, and at least that much of him appeared to be sleeping peacefully.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Stay back, you dumb-ass!”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I turned back to Minatori to reply with a clever insult of my own, the particulars of which I choose not to share.   Looking back at the body, the head was now facing me, and both eyes were open, and directly fixed upon my own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- End of thread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I might call off a few more days, and that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;wood burning smell&lt;/span&gt; has gotten stronger into the night. I peaked outside to check if I could see any smoke on the horizon, but it is way to dark to see anything with clarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God I wish I had a pair of night vision goggles right now.  Currently it seems worth the couple thousand dollars to be honest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-8579256859595320199?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8579256859595320199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-20-2009-1154pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8579256859595320199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/8579256859595320199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-20-2009-1154pm.html' title='Aug. 20, 2009 - 11:54pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2910990736174695295</id><published>2009-08-20T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T20:53:51.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 20, 2009 - 6:04pm</title><content type='html'>Surfing the web on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;net book&lt;/span&gt; while watching the 6 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;o'clock&lt;/span&gt; news, why do I even bother, TV sucks.  Warm day out, the windows are open to let the breeze in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the day at home with my wife, I made a judgment call and decided that we should just take off for the next day or two. Something about yesterdays broadcast has just got my senses on the spike, and they are telling me to stay alert.  Besides, we have the vacation days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait whats this,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is a Sunset curfew in place tonight&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is this&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;serious&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cant type now,  I'm transfixed to this HDTV screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I smell a wood fire burning in the middle of August?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2910990736174695295?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2910990736174695295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-20-2009-604pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2910990736174695295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2910990736174695295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-20-2009-604pm.html' title='Aug. 20, 2009 - 6:04pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7820424967639313844.post-2522596241441037219</id><published>2009-08-19T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T07:32:26.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aug. 19, 2009 - 10:13pm</title><content type='html'>Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the 10  o' clock news hopped back on from commercial break just now,  the Anchor Sally "whats her name" looked extremely frightened. What was more peculiar was that she was looking at a piece of white lined paper, with scribbled handwriting on it.   When she spoke,  she wasn't reading from the teleprompter, but from the piece of lined paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 2 words into her sentence the whole news program flicked off, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;went to white static&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then switched to one of those lame ass evening comedy shows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something about the expression on that reporters face though, and her words. They where not strong and confident, but rather shaky and frightened...I cant explain it.  It just got me on edge, but what I really would like to know is what was she about to report on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess its about time to make this journal. While i search for more information.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7820424967639313844-2522596241441037219?l=thedeadjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2522596241441037219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-19-2009-1013pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2522596241441037219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7820424967639313844/posts/default/2522596241441037219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedeadjournal.blogspot.com/2009/08/aug-19-2009-1013pm.html' title='Aug. 19, 2009 - 10:13pm'/><author><name>DrakinClaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03486999584146890377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RWoBhpAQrFs/Soy-_MCUR4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/zsjPLupNcpU/S220/greeny_zombie3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
