Diary of a Survivor

August 15th, 2015

I've quickly learned that I'm capable of what was once the unthinkable of me. It terrifies me, the things I've done to survive... the things I will have to do to make it out of this this in one piece. Perhaps it's because of all the death I've seen, even before this wretched disease toppled the nation, or my sheer determination to survive one plague and die of another surrounded by family.

Early this morning the afflicted wandered off to God knows where. I took advantage of the empty streets and continued on my journey to who-the-fuck knows. My heart wants Prince Edward Island, but my brain knows I'll never make it there. I guess I'm looking for a haven, somewhere I can live out the rest of my life in peace, and not fear. I don't think I'll find that anytime soon.

It was about mid-day when I finally made it out of the dead zone. Occasionally you'd see one of the infected staggering endlessly off in the distance but for the most part it really was a dead zone. There was absolutely nothing there worth staying for.

I reached the small town of OsGoode just two miles east of the dead zone. It seemed as much as a paradise compared to the town before it. Buildings stood proud, unscathed by all the chaos around them.

I made my way around the streets, navigating them as if I were a ninja, careful not to draw any attention to myself. There was a grave presence of the afflicted down every boarder and on every line. Some were scattered far away from each other, those I could handle, but the clusters proved most dangerous.

I heard screams coming from a distance. It took everything in me to run towards them... usually I'd be running as far away as I could in the opposite direction but I was overcome by this overwhelming feeling of compassion for the person behind the scream.

She was a young girl, couldn't have been older than ten laying lifeless on the pavement as the dead tore away at her flesh. I could hear her mother calling her name;

"Miley!" she cried out.

"Over here, at the fountain," I screamed back.

The dead quickly turned their attention to me, throwing the little girls guts on the ground and staggering my way. I drew the 9mm and ran up toward them. When they got close enough I fired. One shot, two shots, three shots, four. They were gone.

I ran to the young girl, comforting her as she choked on her own blood, desperately gasping for a breath of air. Her mother came running toward us, tears in her eyes. I couldn't help but bawl with her. That was the first time I've seen the result of an attack this close. It was gruesome, a fate no one deserved. One I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy, not even that ass hole who stole my car.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to the woman, as if my apology would bring her daughter back to life. She was hysterical, grabbing a hold of her baby girl and holding her tightly as the life slipped away from her little body. I couldn't bring myself to shoot her in the ahead, especially in front of her grieving mother. It was too much to bare.

I noticed the girls body twitching and fluttering as her mother held her tightly in her arms. I tried to pry the girl from her mother but she wouldn't let me, nearly stabbing me with her knife as I tried. I stood back, waiting for the girl to reanimate. It was only a matter of minutes now. The mother shrieked as her daughter bit into her neck. She looked at me desperately, as if to say "kill me now". It brought me back to Jefferey, the scene that plays over and over in my head as I try to sleep at night, only this time I could do something about it.

"I'm so sorry," I cried, firing off two shots into both of their heads.

They laid beautifully in each others arms as a pool of blood surrounded their bodies. I wiped the tears from my eyes and slapped myself in the face. I wanted to badly to wake up from this nightmare but I couldn't, it was as if I were stuck in a coma of endless horrors. I will remember their faces, as I remember Jefferey's and JP's as I struggle to find courage in this new world. I moved their bodies off to the side of the road and tucked a blanket around them that I had grabbed from the clothesline across the street. I sat for a minute to pray that they find their way through Heaven's gate, though I don't consider myself much of a believer anymore. How a God could take such innocence from us in such a horrendous way is beyond me.

I wanted to do more for them but time is something you never seem to have enough of anymore. My gunshots attracted every roamer in this town and once again, it was time to go. With tears in my eyes I ran as far away as I could, slipping past clusters of infected. Firing a gun off in the city is like ringing the dinner bell. The dead come crawling out of the wood works, from houses and alley ways to buses and cars.

I ran toward an apartment building when one of those things came falling out of the window and splattered onto the ground in front of me. I didn't realize something dead could kill itself, especially like that, but I guess they don't have much of a brain to work with anymore. I ran toward the door of the apartment the infected fell from. To my delight, it was unlocked. I quickly slammed the door shut behind me and locked it. It was a small landing, enough to fit a laundry room and coat rack with a fleet of white wooden stairs leading up to the second floor. I whistled as loud as I could, aiming the 9mm up the stairwell but nothing came. It was empty.

The apartment is fairly small, but it will have to do. The stairs led to a small dining room with a kitchen en-suite. Two doorways led to a bedroom and living room, the third led to a tiny washroom with a molding ceiling and piss-stained toilet. The entire apartment reeked of piss, shit, mold and cigarette smoke, no doubt a slumlords building.

In the living room sat a large aquarium filled with colourful fish swimming around, living care free in their glass box. I feel sorry for them, I, of all people know what it feels like to be trapped with nowhere else to go.

The water smelt like fish and the water was a bit green, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I took a coffee mug from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tank. It tasted a lot better than it sounds, but I guess a quenched thirst is responsible for that. Realistically I'm sure it tasted like shit, but I didn't care. Water is water. I desperately searched for a nibble of food, I could hear my stomach eating itself and could feel myself growing weaker by the minute. I only found a can of tomato sauce and a package of dehydrated pasta and nothing to cook it with; no doubt the reason Tumbling Tom out there perished.

I continually stabbed at the lid of the tin can until I punctured a hole in the top. I guzzled it down like a whore on a cock and occasionally nibbled on a piece of dehydrated pasta. It tasted like a four course meal to me. I haven't eaten this good in days.

The bed is quite comfortable too, I might actually get a good nights rest tonight. For the first time in a long time I no longer feel trapped within four walls and a roof.