Sleeping

It's been several days since I've ventured into the room that has one of those things locked up. To be perfectly honest I've been too terrified to go downstairs, let alone see what's going on in that room.

In a world with no other speaking person you find yourself pondering over things for longer than you thought possible, and I can't seem to let go of the fact that I'm sure when I went into that room he was sleeping. Sleeping? What does that mean? What does a mindless machine need to sleep for. Unless of course he's not all that mindless....

What am I saying?!? I've been surrounded by flesh eating creatures for too long. I've had little sleep, I'm rationing food, and I have no one to talk to. I'm just letting it all go to my head. But why exactly would he be sleeping. For some reason that idea seems all too unsettling. If he needs to sleep what other things does he need? How different are they from me?

I'm off to read a book, as there is little else around to keep my mind off of these things.

Sleeping?

Nope not dead. Although I was fooled at first. I opened the door with flashlight in hand, and found him lying flat on his back, motionless. I wasn't exactly sure how to tell if he was dead, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to tell from all the way across the room.

I leaned over and picked up his hand. As a note it was very cold and clammy, pretty much exactly what you would expect. Before I could drop his arm he started moving. Needless to say I didn't stick around long enough to see what he'd do next, but he did seem just as surprised as I did and just as caught off guard and confused. It wasn't really till after I locked the door again that I realized he was sleeping.

Zombies sleep, not exactly something I expected to find out.

And now, of course, he's awake and banging on the door again.

Shit!

I just woke up and realized I've still got one of them downstairs. I haven't heard from him since I've returned this morning.

Perhaps he's dead, maybe even they can't last two weeks without food. There is only one way to find out....

The world Belongs to them.

It has been a long time since I last posted an update on the state of the world, and that is because this is the first time I've seen a computer in weeks. Which, as you can imagine, is a bad sign.

I set out to get food. All was quiet and fine. I made it to the supermarket, loaded up on food and headed back. Stupidly I ran out of gas about five minutes from the parking lot. It turns out that hunger makes you do stupid things. As I debated what to do, I suddenly saw them coming out of the wood work. Wandering down the street, coming out of the doors of the neighborhood houses, some evening sitting in the parked cars.

The point being is the zombies are everywhere, casually wandering around as if it is their world. And I suppose at this point it is.

I made my way back to the supermarket, as it was closer than any other place I was familiar with, not to mention there was plenty of food. A few managed to follow me, but once I was inside I had no problem hiding from them. Stealth is definitely not one of their strong suits. I was holed up in the supermarket for, by my count, 14 days.
And although they rarely came in doors there was never a day, until today, that I didn't see at least a handful of them wandering around out on the streets.

This morning, however, I was able to take the time to siphon some gas (which is not nearly as easy as they make it out to be in the movies, and gasoline does not taste good), make my way back to my car and get home with a stock of food.

Since this was my first time to really observe the zombies, I will say that they are slow moving and meandering. Although, surprisingly, they look very casual. I know that sounds weird, but it's the best way I can describe it. It's almost as if their wandering is aimless. They are certainly not in a rush, but they are going somewhere. Or perhaps I've just been stuck inside by myself for months.

Needless to say, this world no longer belongs to humans. I can only hope there are some of us still out there. But if I've made it this far, others must have as well.

Starving

I've gone about 22 hours without eating a thing. I must go outside today, even though I'm not feeling very confident since my last attempt.

I'll report back the moment I return. And, yes, just for the record he is still downstairs and banging the walls. It seems that not much of anything stops these things. When I get back I might have to do something about him. But first food.

He is still going. Moaning and banging loud enough to be heard all the way upstairs. But it's not the noise that bothers me, it's the fear that others will hear him and come. I know that doesn't make sense, but not much of anything makes sense any more.

I didn't make if very far.

Two steps outside the front door and I found myself face to face with the man who collapsed in the backyard a few days ago. Needless to say, he didn't look well. And my attempts to speak with him were returned with illegible moans.

He was anything but quick, however I was caught so off guard he managed to catch the door as I attempted to back up into the house. He forced his way through apparently trying to bite me, and although he wasn't quick his strength didn't seem to diminish with his state of living (or dying). In a panic I abandoned the door and ran for the nearest room. Which, unfortunately, was the living room in the back corner of the house. Only one way in or out. He followed me as quickly as he could. I put the sofa between him and myself and whether out of shear determination or stupidity he came after me tripping over the sofa and tumbling to the ground. Before I even had the chance to see him get up I ran for the door, locking it behind myself.

I've only now calmed down enough to type and my legs still feel like jelly. But perhaps worst of all, even up here on the third floor I can hear him moaning, scrapping and banging the walls.

I think I'll leave the grocery trip for another day. For now I'll just rest. Although I can't imagine it will be easy to do with all that noise.

Venturing outside

So the time has come that I must go outside. I am running low on food and have to make a trip to the grocery store. It's only a fifteen minute drive away, but the world has become a ghost town and I don't feel great about what I will find outside in the world. Most television and radio stations have ceased broadcast, with a few exceptions showing reruns over and over. It turns out the Simpsons will never actually end. The internet still seems fairly active, considering the circumstances, but I don't think I'll find much in the way of people and social activity in the streets. But when it really comes down to it, I suppose I'd prefer to not see anyone than the alternative.

I do not anticipate that this will be my final entry, but if it is; farewell. If it is not I will return with food and a better sense of what is happening to this planet. Which I will promptly inform you of.

Well, I woke up this morning and the man was gone. I'm not really sure how to deal with it. I've locked all the doors, and I figure there isn't much more that I can do. Perhaps he's just wondered off and I'll never see him again. But, I don't think I'll be that lucky.

After what must have been weeks of not seeing a single person, my luck has changed. Only I wouldn't call it luck at all.

This afternoon a man came stumbling into my backyard screaming as loud as he could manage to scream. I saw him staggering around having trouble keeping himself up. And all he could say was "Help me, help me!". Before I could decide what to do he just collapsed to the ground face in the grass. He twitched a little bit and then laid motionless.

I debated going outside, but I figured the wiser thing to do was to call for help. 45 minutes of waiting and a woman stating "Due to the high volume of calls all of our dispatchers are unavailable. We will be with you as soon as possible", is when I decided 911 was no longer in service. The man still hasn't moved in all that time, so I figure there is not much I can do for him. I'm better off inside where it's safe.

So now I sit here typing this on the third floor. I have a clear view of the man from the window by the computer. He still hasn't moved. It's like he's starring at the earth.

A day or two ago I would have said that I'd give anything to see another person, now I just want to be alone. The sun is setting soon, so at least I won't have to look at him anymore.