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.