It has been three months since I ended Richard, making this thirteen months since the killing started. Now clearly past the one year mark, I have to start preparing to survive long-term on my own. Richard was my safety net and I his. I worry I’ll trip, hit my head, and wake up at night surrounded by the dead. Short of wearing a helmet everywhere, I need to prepare for worse case scenarios. Jogging, staying fit, having the spare food, beartraps, and so on can only do so much.
A hurricane hit, category 5. It devastated the Texas and Louisiana coast. Then there were reports of mass violent crimes. Violent crimes led to horror stories that the dead were walking the earth in the devastated areas. People just blew it off as horror stories formed from the mass looting and crimes. Then the dead hit the national guard. Domestic defense had to be regrouped, but by then it was hitting Wisconsin, Nevada, and Virginia. It crossed the oceans and that was the last I’ve heard of anything.
The dead’s numbers were massive. The first seven months were a nightmare of unending. We had to fight and burn our way through. Eventually, we covered our tracks to the tower with chemicals to throw off the smell. That gave us time to set up the beartraps. After the first seven months, we went from worrying about the dead to worrying about supplies. The next two we lost people trying to get supplies, fighting over them, and lack of any sign of society outside of us led to more than a few suicides among the only survivors. Eventually, it was just me and Richard.
Now it has been a month of just me, Kurt Conklin, the only living resident of Nacogdoches, TX, staying at the Garner Apartments, the tallest structure in the town. Every day, after my jog, I stand at the top of the tower and look for any sign of life besides my own. It has been a month of consistently no sign.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Day 395
Kurt wakes up to the sound of the alarm clock beeping at him. He opens his eyes and darts them around the room. Clapping twice, the lights turn on. The room is empty except for him and the mess he leaves. He stares at the wall mirror, looking not at himself, but below him, at the empty space beneath the bed. Seeing he is still alone, he pulls the gun out from under his pillow and puts it on the nightstand. He looks at each of the doors in the room, making sure they are still shut.
He gets up and rubs his eyes with the side of his hand. “Nightmares, I tell ya.” He looks up and down a panel of lights with rows of green lights. “All green.” He looks at the second panel. “Green all night.”
He takes a shower.
He puts on jogging pants and ties his shoes, unties them, and then reties them with the detail of a sailor. He loads a pistol, switches the safety off and back on, then puts it in the holster strapped to his leg. He repeats the motion, attaching another pistol to the strap on his other leg. He practices pulling the gun out, closing his eyes and removing both of them single-handedly, one at a time. He pushes the strap forward with his thumb and pulls the pistol out, then practices it with the other hand, other pistol. He’s quick on his first try with each. There are four clips of ammo on his belt. He puts on sunglasses and walks down thirteen flights of stairs to the lobby.
He picks up a spade leaning against the front desk. It is an arm-length pole with a sharp, rounded blade attached to the end. On the other end is a handle it can be pushed from.
He goes out the doors carrying the spade. He walks carefully, the ground having his complete attention. At the bottom of the steps are beartraps. There are five rows of them, spread across, circling the tower. Will walks in a zig-zag as he takes the route his knows to avoid the traps. Once on the other side, he circles the building with the spade, looking at the traps. After his circle, he sets the spade down, sets his watch to time his run.
“Three miles, let’s get it in twenty-seven minutes this time.”
He looks out at the open day, the bright dawn. In the distance, a bird chirps, the wind rustles the leaves, and Will swears he can hear his own eyes blink. Against the silence, the beep of his watch is a gunshot.
Thirty minutes later, he will stop again at the parking lot, before his sea of beartraps and hit his watch again. He will catch his breath, look out into the day, pick up the spade, zig-zag back into
his tower, and know he will not see another living soul today.
He gets up and rubs his eyes with the side of his hand. “Nightmares, I tell ya.” He looks up and down a panel of lights with rows of green lights. “All green.” He looks at the second panel. “Green all night.”
He takes a shower.
He puts on jogging pants and ties his shoes, unties them, and then reties them with the detail of a sailor. He loads a pistol, switches the safety off and back on, then puts it in the holster strapped to his leg. He repeats the motion, attaching another pistol to the strap on his other leg. He practices pulling the gun out, closing his eyes and removing both of them single-handedly, one at a time. He pushes the strap forward with his thumb and pulls the pistol out, then practices it with the other hand, other pistol. He’s quick on his first try with each. There are four clips of ammo on his belt. He puts on sunglasses and walks down thirteen flights of stairs to the lobby.
He picks up a spade leaning against the front desk. It is an arm-length pole with a sharp, rounded blade attached to the end. On the other end is a handle it can be pushed from.
He goes out the doors carrying the spade. He walks carefully, the ground having his complete attention. At the bottom of the steps are beartraps. There are five rows of them, spread across, circling the tower. Will walks in a zig-zag as he takes the route his knows to avoid the traps. Once on the other side, he circles the building with the spade, looking at the traps. After his circle, he sets the spade down, sets his watch to time his run.
“Three miles, let’s get it in twenty-seven minutes this time.”
He looks out at the open day, the bright dawn. In the distance, a bird chirps, the wind rustles the leaves, and Will swears he can hear his own eyes blink. Against the silence, the beep of his watch is a gunshot.
Thirty minutes later, he will stop again at the parking lot, before his sea of beartraps and hit his watch again. He will catch his breath, look out into the day, pick up the spade, zig-zag back into
his tower, and know he will not see another living soul today.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Welcome and What This Is
Hello.
This blog is part of a literary expert. At least once a week I submit a post, either third person narrative or part of the diary of the main character, Kurt. I won't tell you much as that is boring. You can read it and discover the world as Jason goes through it. What I will tell you is this genre is horror, it involves zombies, and at least at the start, there is only one survivor. I got this inspiration, aside from being a fan of George A. Romero, from staying alone in Garner apartments on the Stephen F. Austin State University campus during the Christmas break after watching I Am Legend. Nacogdoches (the setting and town Stephen F. is at) is a ghost town during the break when the college students are gone, so I had much to inspire me and it never really left. I slowly realized this is something I could start on and write forever.
If you are going to read this regularly, please use the "Blogger Follower" widget on the right menu. This will help me keep track of the size of my readership and evaluate how much time this blog is worth committing to on a weekly basis.
I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave comments.
Thanks,
R. Neely
This blog is part of a literary expert. At least once a week I submit a post, either third person narrative or part of the diary of the main character, Kurt. I won't tell you much as that is boring. You can read it and discover the world as Jason goes through it. What I will tell you is this genre is horror, it involves zombies, and at least at the start, there is only one survivor. I got this inspiration, aside from being a fan of George A. Romero, from staying alone in Garner apartments on the Stephen F. Austin State University campus during the Christmas break after watching I Am Legend. Nacogdoches (the setting and town Stephen F. is at) is a ghost town during the break when the college students are gone, so I had much to inspire me and it never really left. I slowly realized this is something I could start on and write forever.
If you are going to read this regularly, please use the "Blogger Follower" widget on the right menu. This will help me keep track of the size of my readership and evaluate how much time this blog is worth committing to on a weekly basis.
I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave comments.
Thanks,
R. Neely
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