Infectious (Phan)

Part One (Journal Entry One- The Beginning)

Journal Entry #1
Day 1
Dan Howell
It was overseas; somewhere in Africa, I had heard. The dead, coming back to life- zombies, it was like something out of a science-fiction movie. Brain eating monsters who have no memory of their past, serving only one purpose- to destroy the living and consume their flesh- only to have the dead who were destroyed by these things, to come back as monsters themselves after their gruesome death.

When the outbreak occurred in Africa, the people didn't know what they were doing, thought it was some kind of weird disease with no cure.

That's where they made the mistake, they realized there was no cure when it was too late. This, was the thing that caused the outbreak to spread more rapidly, without warning, and without a warning nothing could be done to prevent what came next.

Survivors from the ordeal in Africa, came to the place they thought could possibly hold some sort of promise, and maybe even a cure; the United States of America. All it took, was one person who got bit by one of those things, after someone who had came over seas passed; and the U.S was infected. After that, the rest of the world followed rapidly, and people are now left to try and survive the nightmare that is now an everyday thing for survivors.

My name is Dan Howell. I am a twenty-five year old who is somehow still alive in this mess. I am recording my days living this life, as well as any discoveries I may make in this journal. I hope that one day the world will become a better place than what it is now (as do other people), and that hope for survival won't be so slim.

When the first large outbreak happened here, in my city: it happened very quickly. People in hazmat suits lined the streets, along with military personnel and police officers. We were forced to stay inside for about three weeks before there was no contact from the outside. The wifi was down, and TV signals were shot, even the radio just produced static when someone attempted to use it.

I was awoken by screams and the whooshing of a helicopter outside when I was forced to leave, because it was no longer safe in my neighborhood. I knew that meant that it was time to leave, and there was barley any time to make it out.

I had a bag that was small enough to carry over my shoulder while still being able to run. I packed it with as many essentials as I could, a first aid kit, a sleeping bag, canned food and water, a lighter, several weapons, this notebook (along with as many pens as I could find), and a photo album that was filled with pictures of loved ones that I held dear.

Now I am traveling on foot, which, is an extremely dangerous thing to do in a time as dangerous as this, but I have no other choice. My car was stolen before I left, and, in my defense, there was no way I could've saved it even if I had the chance to do so. Whoever stole my car must've known me, because my spare car keys along with my car itself were gone when I awoke on the second day of being trapped inside of my house.

I'm assuming that the thieves were my neighbors, they knew that I kept my spare car keys on a hook towards the back door, and they knew that I kept a key underneath the mat. They seemed like such nice, trustworthy people, but I guess, who could blame them for doing something so horrible at a time like this. They were probably scared, probably wanted to do whatever they could to get to safety, and to find their family and friends. They wanted to do whatever they could for themselves.

I guess I learned early on that even the ones who aren't dead can be monsters too.