Thursday, May 21, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Day 18: Friend or Foe?
We're almost there, we've reached the lake shore after a long and winding trip. We've been able to keep a decent stock of non-perishable supplies in the SUV from houses we've searched along the way. We've been taking turns driving. Our fuel is running low, we're going to have to stop and re-fuel, which can be dangerous for us as the nearest gas station is near the heart of downtown.
But this is a necessary danger. Our food supplies won't last much longer.
As we drive along the lake shore, we see that the city is much different from the suburbs. The dead walk the streets freely. Where there is one, many others seem to be around. As Dean drives us along the road we hear the ever too frequent thump of the dead hitting our car. We'll need to avoid this as much as possible as it may damage our vehicle.
As we approach the beginning of what is down town, the gas station can be seen in the distance. Its amazing how something so close can feel so far.
When we reach the station, the dead pile the streets. This area resembles a warzone, the dead riddled with gunshot wounds. Maybe there are other survivors here, maybe the army.
As we drive into the gas station, there isn't a single zombie around. We should use this oppertunity to re-stock our supplies. As Dean and Mike fill up the gas with gas and fills up our spare gas canister, Andrew and I head into the gas station, weapons ready. With our mirrors we sweep the entire interior of the gas station, only to find a single zombie in the bathroom. What a way to go. Poor guy died taking a shit.
As we walk up and down the aisles we fill shopping bags with anything we can find.
Andrew and I leave the gas station with quite the supply:
a box of 30 power bars, this'll keep us going for a while
a handfull of those power gells, they look kind of gross
2 containers of Asperin
4 packs of beef jerky, this won't go bad on us as it's dried
a case of 500 mL water bottles (24 bottles)
a pair of zippo lighters and 2 cans of fluid. These babies won't go out easily in the wind, if we ever need to set a fire, we'll be ready until we find a longer lasting method of starting fires. Flint and steel perhaps?
some scent free anti-perspirant. From what we've seen so far, the dead have an enhanced olfactory and visual senses. Maybe they're attracted to our sweat?
As we start to load the car, we hear the distant roar of a car engine. Survivors! As the vehicle approaches, we see that its an H2 Hummer caked in blood. These people must've been aiming for the dead on the streets. Four individuals step out of the car, all clad in tactical vests and police duty belts. Two of them seem to be carrying shotguns, while the others had pistols in leg holsters.
Mike asks them if they're police officers. The biggest of the group responds
" There ain't no cops around here no more. They're all dead."
One of them steps forward, a woman brandishing a shotgun.
"Where'd you get this car? Steal it? Or are you guys cops?"
Do I fucking look like a cop? I think to myself as we all fall silent.
These guys must be people who stuck around after the dead took over the city. They must've stolen their gear from dead police officers. If we don't get out of here we might be in a bit of trouble.
Andrew breaks the silence. "look if it's money you guys want, we don't have any..."
Before he can finish his sentence the woman dashed forward in one quick movement and jabbed him in the stomach with the butt of her shotgun. Andrew crumples to the floor in pain.
The rest of us reach to our weapons. Before we can do anything I feel a sharp blow to the back of my head and then....
My world goes black.
Day 19: Fight or Flight
I'm awoken by a loud bang followed by an blood curdling scream.
As I come to my senses and my vision begins to clear. I see that I'm in a dark room, the windows have been boarded and the only source of light is the single fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling.
I hear a scream again as my vision returns to me and my eyes adjust to the low light of the room. Mike is lying on a stainless steel table; writhing in pain as one of our captors smashes a baseball bat on his leg.
"Where are the rest of you!? You guys couldn't have been alone! Look at all of these supplies you have!"
Crack goes Mike's shin as he brings his bat down to strike.
Weapons adorn the walls, this must be their safehouse. My head still hurts from earlier, but this is much more important. Our minor wounds mean nothing if we're dead. We have to escape.
The thugs begin to file out of the room to retrieve something. This is our chance. We have to escape. It's now or never.
I look for Dean and Andrew, they're right next to me. Almost simultaneously we reach for our pocket knives and begin to cut at the ropes that bind our wrists and ankles.
I manage to free my arms as the thugs emerge from the once locked door.
All of a sudden, everything is a blur and I feel blood stain my hands.
When I come to my senses, I find myself lying in a pile of bodies. My companions and I still conscious. Beneath me is one of the thugs, my pocket knife protruding from his carotid artery.
His blood's on my hands.
Day 19/ Part 2: Emergency
I'm lying on the floor, my hands soaked in another man's blood. I've killed the dead before, but this felt different. He was a living breathing human being. I suddenly feel nauseous as I vomit, bile dripping from my mouth.
Dean and Andrew are also in shock. Sitting there looking at their hands.
We would have never thought that we'd have to kill a human being. This really has become survival of the fittest. It hasn't even been a month yet and our world has been turned upside down.
Mike writhes in agony on the table, his leg likely broken, at best fractured. He needs medical attention.
The ominous sound of the approaching dead snaps us back into action. With shaking hands we strip the people we killed of anything that may aid us. Using a hockey bag that was left in the room, we fill it with whatever we can find.
It is evident now that these people were holed up in the reinforced convienience store across the street form where the captured us. They must've seen us on their way back from something.
As we search they place we find several items:
2 Remington 870 12 guage shotguns each loaded with 8 shells
a box of 12 shotgun shells
2 Glock 17 9mm pistols with an additional magazine
Duty holsters for the pistols (these can go on the belts we've been wearing from the university police station)
several cans of soup and beans
FRESH FRUIT (we're going to have to eat these fast before they go bad)
The people here must've raided a police station to get that kind of firepower.
Luckily for us, Dean and I have firearms experience. Dean hunts with his father, and I recently completed training and got a handgun, shotgun and rifle license. Mike and Andrew have never touched a gun in their lives. We'll have to teach them.
We have to start moving, the dead with surround us soon. As we make our way out of the store, we see our car parked convieniently outside. Dean and I, pistols drawn, use our mirrors to quickly sweep underneath the car as Andrew helps Mike into the back seat.
We'll have to go off of our planned route to get to a hospital. But this is a necassary risk.
Day 20: Moving Day
We're in trouble. We're in deep shit right now.
Mike's hurt. It looks like a simple transverse fracture. We can fashion a make shift splint from one of our police batons, but it won't heal properly. But it's the best we can do at the moment. We need to find shelter soon; get some rest.
We can't go on like this.
We're driving. With no plan we're going to end up lost soon. I know Toronto pretty well, but with the walking dead everywhere, places we once thought safe could now be death traps.
As we drive down what was once Bloor street, the dead seem less numerous. It's possible that they are still subconsciously human, and flock to down town where most of their once human lives were centered around.
Mike's getting worse. His temperature is quickly rising. He needs medical attention.
We're in a residential area now. This seems to be the best place to stop. The condominium at the intersection seems like a decent place to rest. There we can barricade ourselves in until we can move again.
We move our supplies from the car into the building, pistols at hand. I really don't want to use it as it causes far to much noise. We don't need the extra attention.
We've climbed the stairs with no interference. There doesn't seem to be a living soul in here. Not even the dead. Using the crow bar, Dean breaks into one of the third floor units, pistol in hand. I follow his lead carrying the supplies. Andrew helps Mike limp into the room. Mike is dripping with perspiration.
We barricade the door and tie one end of our rope tot he balcony. If we need to escape we can climb down to the street. We had to leave the car. We'll have to find a new one if we can't get back to it.
We can survive in this unit for at least a couple of weeks. There is enough food in here for us to eat before we have to use our emergency supplies.
We've suppressed Mike's fever with wet towels and medication. We'll ahve to see how he is in the morning. In the mean time, we need sleep. Dean's going to take first watch.
Above and below us the dead could be walking in search of prey.
Day 21: Lockdown
We've been able to keep Mike's fever down. The unit we've locked ourselves in had a decent selection of pain killers. Using our basic first aid knowledge we were able to fashion a splint for his fractured leg.
So much for our plans to get to Sudbury.
The weather is getting warmer. As the snow melts the dead seem to be more active. They must've been slowed down by the cold.
We're all on edge now. We've only been here a day and I'm beginning to grow impatient. The tape recorder that we found earlier's run out of batteries. I don't want to use any of our spare batteries. It'll just have to wait till we get to Sudbury.
Mike has just woken up from his pain killer induced sleep. If he gets too noisy, the dead may come banging on our door.
I cross the room to peer through the peep hole in the door. A small group of zombies roam the hallway.
As I leave the door, I hear a tapping on one of the doors across the hall.
Three short taps, followed by three longer taps and another threee short taps (· · · — — — · · · )
Day 21/ Part 2: Duck and Cover
I'm focusing now. Focusing on the loud tapping sound coming from across the hall in one of the units we thought to be vacant.
My room mates are now at the door, minus Mike, who at this point was as comfortable as a man with a broken leg can be on the couch.
"This isn't good, the noise they're making's going to attract more of the dead" whispers Dean as we contemplate our next course of action.
The people next door must've heard Mike earlier. We can't let them go on like this much longer. Who ever's in that unit must have some sort of survival knowledge. Well, enough to know SOS in morse code.
I can see two options now, going across the hall to investigate or ignoring them. If we ignore them the dead may soon be so numerous that they'll break our door down, regardless of how quiet we are.
Our best bet would be to investigate. With any luck the people we find will be able to help us out. If we run into the same people like at the gas station, well....
I don't want to think about that.
Day 22: Choices
We're going in. We can't afford to have that tapping across the hall attract for the the dead to us. In the event that they are able to pin point our location, it'll be had to escape with Mike still injured.
We're going to travel lightly. Travel, I can't believe I used that to describe going across the hall. But these days, moving from one place to another has become a painstaking and risky task.
I'm taking one of the pistols with an extra magazine as well as my crow bar. Dean is taking the shotgun and his police baton. We're only going to use our guns if we're desperate.
Peering out into the hallway to check for the living dead, we use our mirrors to chcek both ways. Towards the source oft he tapping, two zombies lie in our path. Behind us, a lone zombie walks in the opposite direction.
As we advance, I raise my crow bar above my head and bring it down on the approaching zombie's head, the sharp corner of the titanium tool caving his skull in. It takes a couple of strikes for Dean to finish his off.
So far so good, the other zombie at this point has turned and changed direction to us.
I knock on the door, telling the inhabitants that i'm not one of the infected.
We begin to hear the unlatching of the dead bolt.
The door begins to open slowly. My hand falls to my holstered pistol at my waist.
Day 22/ Part 2: New Folks in Town
As the door opens, my hand falls to my pistol.
The door opens to reveal an aging man, heavy stubble covers his face. His greying hair is noticeably unkept. He gives us a releaved look as he opens the door further.
Dean and I enter the apartment carefully, observing our surroundings.
We hear the door bolt behind us as the man leads us into the den. A woman is sitting there, she must be in her mid 40's. The ring on her finger tells me that she's his wife.
"Hey man am I releaved to see a living person. It's been so long. I'm Marv"
As we introduce ourselves my eyes fall to the metal badge around his neck.
"Oh yes i'm a detective. I've got my service pistol, but I'm not packing as much firepower as your friend over there"
He points to the remington shotgun in Deans hands.
"By the way, this is my wife Mary."
Mary gives us a shy wave, she must've been through a lot. Adorning the walls are pictures of a family of four. They must've lost their children.
"Those are our kids, Peter and Ben. We lost them when it all started. It shouldn't be like this. A parent should never have to bury their children."
It should never be that way.
The shambling in the hallway seems to lesson. But the awkward silence that looms over our heads seems to grow.
Day 22/ Part 2: Out of Sight
I'm standing in a room with the first human beings we've seen in a month. Well. That's a lie, they're the second group of living people we've seen this month.
They're the first that haven't tried to kill us yet.
We can't just sit here and stare at each other. Andrew and Mike are in the condo across the hall. And Mike's still injured.
I holster my pistol, keeping an eye on Marv and focusing my peripherals on his loaded Glock 17 on the table.
"We're really glad to see some new faces around here. Its been days since we've seen any people" said Mary from the couch.
"You folks aren't here for supplies are you?"
I blunty respond; informing them that the morse code they were doing on the door was attracting the dead.
Silence engulfs the room.
Dean finally speaks after the couple of seconds that felt like minutes, "We have enough supplies if you folks want to join up with us. If we pool our resources we'll have a better chance of survival. We're heading to Sudbury."
"We're heading to Brampton. We may as well tag along, its on the way. Didn't you mention earlier that one of your friends has a broken leg? Mary's a nurse, she might be able to help."
Thank god. This day is definatly turning around.
While Marv and Mary pack what supplies we can carry, Dean and I check the hallway for any roaming zombies. Its clear. Well except for the one from before, it won't be a problem.
We exit the apartment, making sure that nothing followed us. A quick blow to the head with my crowbar easily dispatches the zombie.
We're greeted by Andrew and he opens the door. Our second pistol in hand. Safety on. I forgot to teach him how to use it. That could've been bad if it was anyone else.
We enter the unit, which we now realize is bigger than the one Marv and Mary occupied. Mary moves to attend Mike, who seems to be in less pain than before.
"It isn't broken. Its just some muscle damage. He'll have to rest."
That's as perfect as this situation could ever be. With the extra supplies, we will be able to stay here for an extra couple of days. Just enough time for Mike to heal and the rest of us to plan an escape.
We're going to need one hell of a plan if we're going to get out of here.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Day 1: Cataclysm
It's snowing. I love snow.
I trudge my way through the foot of snow outside of the mall, my messenger bag in hand as I try to get to the shelter of the warm bus terminal. I had just spent the last 30 minutes in the comic book store trying ot explain to this clearly confused man that his copy of Amazing Spiderman issue 129 was a re-print and wasn't worth anything. When tt got to the point where I was pretty sure he was trying to get crack money for comics. My nerd senses quickly prompted me out of the store.
So where was I...oh yes.
I'm standing in this god forsaken bus terminal waiting for the only bus that will take me back to my university residence. Did I mention I was wearing my pair of low cut converse? I guess Chuck Taylor didn't see the downside of putting ventilation holes on the sides of these shoes. Mind you, this is mostly my fault, I have a perfectly good pair of boots at home.
I'm on the bus now, it's full.
As we around the corner and approach the straight away to the campus, I notice this man sitting at the back corner of the bus. Now i'm not one to judge, but this man looked like he'd just travelled through time to 14th century Europe and brought back the black plague. On any ordinary day, I'm sure he'd come over and kick the livign shit out of me for staring at him, but as of now, his eyes seemed to be glazed over. Completely unaware of his surroundings, he just sits there, as if he just died.
Don't know how this happened, but by the time the bus got back to campus, the paramedics rushed the back doors and checked on that plague ridden man from the back of the bus and pronounced him dead.
As the rest of the passengers, along with me, exit the bus, I start to walk as fast as I can towards my apartment. None of the passengers have left the bus stop, they wanted to stay and see what happens.
Suddenly I hear a scream, and not just a single scream, but the combined screaming of everyone in the vicinity. Before I can react, the once parked bus is flying towards me and smashes into the nearby tree just feet from me.
When I come to my senses I'm lying on the ground, my face in the snow. I slowly raise my face to see a figure standing above me. Looking up, I can see the dead man from the bus.
It's snowing. I hate snow.
Day 1: Part 2
As I slowly raise my head I see the dead man from the bus.
Two words come to mind.
As I struggle to get up, I feel his hands grasp at my arms with alarming strength. His fingers snake around my arms as he pulls me towards his open mouth. Bile pouring out of his mouth, he begins to moan and spout incoherent words. With an unfathomable amount of dexterity, I reach into my pocket for my knife; drawing and thrusting it into my assailant's eye.
As this happens I feel his grasp instantly loosen. Taking advantage of this momentary weakness, I run.
One word comes to mind.
The dead have begun to rise, starting with the man on the bus. Why here? Why now!? I make it to my apartment, people are pouring out of every possible exit, valuables in hand. In this chaos, more and more will be trampled and killed, or worse, infected.
I make it up to my unit to find my roommates standing ready at the top of the third floor stairs, about to hurl our dining room table down the stairs to form a make shift barricade. Pausing to catch my breath, I soon return to help them close off the stair case. You see, our building is divided into several "towers", each with one staircase to access our buildings 3 floors. Sealing off the bottom floor would give us the momentary freedom to search the second and third floor units for supplies and weapons.
Help isn't coming. Not yet at least. Until then, we're going to have to survive on our own.
Day 1: Part 3
We've boarded ourselves in the residence complex. We have to organize and search for supplies that will help us get through the winter. As my room-mates and I search through the abandoned units on the remaining floors, we are constantly reminded that we cannot let our guards down. Rounding a corner we were attacked by one of the infected. Luckily, I was able to dispatch it with the crowbar from the utilities closet next door.
At the end of the day, we were able to scavenge a good amount of supplies. We were able to find:
a map of the city. This will be useful as non of us grew up around here.
2 flash lights
several dozen AAA batteries
3 Swiss Army Knives. Among the kitchen knives, we were able to scavenge up theseSwiss Wenger knives; a Ranger 57 Hunter complete with a one handed locking blade, gutting tool, reamer, awl with sewing eye, locking screwdriver, cap lifter, wire crimper, double-cut wood saw, can opener,and corkscrew, (guess that person really liked camping), an Evogrip 10, and a Backpacker Model 2.
2 standard first aid kits
a pair of binoculars from the creepy guys down the hall
In addition to the supplies we found, we were able to fashion make shift survival back packs. I have a personal "bug out bag" at the end of my bed that I was able to augment our new survival bags with.
In terms of weapons, we were able to dig up one for everybody (in addition to a knife). A baseball bat, two pieces of piping, and a crow bar (this can also be used to open doors).
This being said, we are far from ready to move locations, though we are fine for short term survival. We have no idea about what's outside those doors. We need a plan.
It isn't safe here. Only safer.
Day 14: Move or Die
Its been two weeks. We're running out of food. At this point, the living are gone and the dead roam the streets. We couldn't even say goodbye. All of our friends; our families. This has begun to take an emotional toll on some of us. All of this bullshit that's going on, all of this death.
From what we were able to gather from the news and the internet, the cause of this disaster was some sort of viral infection. Whether this was an act of terrorism, we aren't sure.
We need to find a more secure location, we need a place that is self sustainable in case this goes on for a while; and by the looks of it, it's going to be a long time.
Dean suggests that we head up north, to Sudbury. It's colder up there. We've noticed that the dead seem slower when they're exposed to the cold. Up there we might have a better chance of survival. In Sudbury they own a hunting cabin. There we'll ahve heat, shelter, food and weapons
This virus changed people. It brings life to the dead and death to the living. But I think that it's changed us the most.
Day 14: Part 2
We know what this virus does to the dead. It brings them to life. But it's changed us in ways we could never have imagined. But into what? I have no idea.
How long will it be before we completely lose our humanity? We all need something to hold onto. Possibly the thought of reuniting with our families and friends? The fleeting chance of government intervention?
In any case, if we're going to make it through this alive, we're going to need more than our weapons.
Day 15: The Long Road
Our supply cache has almost been completely depleted. At this rate, we won't last much longer. This is the time for us to move. Before the internet was completely shut down, we were able to plan our route to Sudbury. It's a 400 km distance by highway from our current location, but the chances of a direct highway journey is unlikely due to the multitude of abandoned cars.
We've discussed possible alternative routes and have all agreed on one. We will head about 30 minutes North East to Toronto where we will be able to resupply and stop by my parents house. It is unlikely that they will still be there, as most of the city would have been evacuated. They're smart. I just hope that they were able to make it to one of the many transport boats that were mentioned in the news.
From Toronto we will head North to Markham, where Mike's family lives. Toronto and Markham will be the key stop off points on our Journey. If needed, there are several small towns along that way that can be used to re-fuel.
It is likely that this journey will take at least 3 days. Our only problem now is transportation.
On the Southern portion of our campus, there is a university police office and parking lot. Tomorrow, during the day where visibility is at its maximum, we will take what we can across campus and borrow one of the cars. If possible, we will try to gain access to the police office for supplies and weapons. Spare duty belts and batons will greatly aid us, not to mention the spare keys located in the locker room.
This won't be easy. But if we want to make it through this alive, it's necessary.
Day 16: Within Arm’s Reach
We've taken everything we can carry: back packs, food, weapons and warm clothing. As we briskly walk across campus, my eyes dart back and forth at the hordes of undead that walk the streets. They're slow, we just need to out manoeuvre them. As long as they can't get within arm’s reach of us, we'll be fine.
As we enter the southern building, the police office comes into view. Its plexi-glass windows providing a clear view inside. Fortunately for us, the door has been left open from the panic two weeks ago. Dean and I enter the office, weapons at hand.
All of a sudden I feel an iron grip around my ankle.
Out from under the desk we begin to hear a low guttural moan shortly followed by the emergence of what was once a campus police officer.
My mind goes blank.
Suddenly, I hear a loud roar as Dean brings his baseball bat down onto the dead mans head with all of his strength.
The man's head caves in under the tremendous blow, pieces of his skull fall to the floor and his blood splatters onto my clothes. I instantly feel his grip subside.
Quickly recovering from the shock, I come to my senses as we begin to rummage through the police lockers and supply cabinets. We are able to find four duty belts complete with flashlights, walkie talkies, and extendable batons. These will be useful. Most importantly, we find the keys to the police SUV parked less than 50 meters from the building. This is our only chance of escape.
Outside of the office, Mike and Andrew seem to have dispatched several zombies. We quickly distribute the duty belts before leaving the building.
We make it to the car with minimal difficulty; the police batons are quite useful due to their high quality make. Much better than a piece of piping.
As we get into the car we all exhale a sigh of relief. But this isn't over yet, it's never going to be over. We still need to get onto the road and out of the campus.
Dean puts the keys into the ignition and we're off. Unfortunately we only have half of a tank of gas. We'll have to find a station in Toronto to fill up.
We're on the move now, and there's no turning back.
Day 17: The Lost Boys
We're travelling by car now. Fortunatly the SUV we were able to obtain has enough fuel to get us to Toronto and possibly further. As we drive down the highway, the dead seem to become more numerous,we're going to have to be smarter.
In the distance smoke billows from an overturned transport truck. Predictably, our plan hit a dead end and we're going to have to get to Toronto through the residential area just four minutes west from our current position. But we have to move, the dead are beginning to approach our position. If they surround us, we'll have little chance of survival. Mind you, in the worlds current state, our chances of survival are already quite low. I'd rather we not let it get any lower than it already is.
Dean begins to drive towards the residential area, it looks like the inhabitants fled their homes, for doors were open and there wasn't a living, or dead soul in sight. As we drive down the empty road, we attempt to drive slow enough for our car to make little noise. From our experiences back on campus, we've been able to deduce that the dead use their senses of smell and hearing to navigate. If we are quiet, they won't be attracted to our area.
We're beginning to get lost. We're going to have to stop, take refuge in one of these abandoned houses, and plan another route to Toronto.
Day 17: Part 2
As we approach the now vacated garage, our eyes scan for any signs of the dead; or the living. Dean puts the car into park and we ease our way out of the car; weapons drawn. Before we go any further Andrew, raises his free hand. We all freeze and listen. Fromunderneath the car we begin to hear a primitive growl.
We're going to have to be more careful. Mike suggests that we use the mirrors that we collected back on campus to look around corners and underneath cars.
Using my crowbar, in one stabbing motion I thrust its tip into the back of the dead woman's head as she emerged slowly from beneath the car. Blood begins to flow freely onto the floor.
Once it is absolutely certain that the garage is clear, we begin to make our way inside the house, constantly checking corners and under tables for the living dead. The walls are caked in dried blood, from the looks of it, the woman in the garage was attacked and attempted to escape out of the garage. This neighbourhood isn't as unexposed as we suspected.
There has to be at least one more in here, someone had to have attacked that woman. Once the first floor was clear, Dean and Mike propped the basement door closed while Andrew and I made sure the doors were locked and the windows sealed. We'll check the basement last. We don't want to be down there and come up to a dinner party of zombies from the second floor. That would suck. We don't want to be in a situation where we only have one exit, especially one crowded by the living dead.
Rounding the second flight of stairs, we reach the second floor hallway, the floral wall paper standing out against the cream coloured carpet. In pairs we search the second floor. As Dean and I enter what seems to be an office, we hear Mike and Andrew dispatch the last remaining zombie in the house.
The office doesn't seem like that of your average working class individual. In addition to the high tech computer, the room also had a high grade microscope, similar to one seen in a university biology laboratory.
Nothing seemed out of place, as if the chaos that happend in this hosue never reached this office.
Then I noticed something, a tiny digital voice recorder lying on the ground, its blood smeared surface camouflauged against the red carpet that lay in the center of the room.
This might mean something.
Day 17/ Part 3:
As I tuck the recorder into my pouch, I hear a sharp whistle form the hallway. That was our way of telling each other that we needed to move. The dead are beginning to congregate around the house. It won't be long before we are completely surrounded. We need to move. Fast.
Frantically we search the second floor for anything that would be of use to us.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing of use to us. It was as if the people that lived here just ate, slept and read biology books.
As we jump down the stairs, the sound of shattering windows only serves as a reminder that we need to get the fuck out of here before it's too late. We jump in the car, police batons at hand in case of an emergency. Dean slams his foots down on the gas and we fly forward as the police SUV breaks through the flimsey garage door. Bodies are tossed everywhere and blood flows off of the windshield.
So much for planning another route to Toronto. We'll have to do this as we drive and pray that we don't go get lost.