Luke's Diary: An Unlucky Man in a Zombie Apocalypse. Days 201-400

Day 348: Wednesday 9th August 2017 22:19

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Day 348
Wednesday 9th August 2017 22:19

A hectic day.

Me, Mike and Troy went out in the car again and drove to the seaside town. When we got to the top of the road we once again heard the groans of the infected echoing through the air. "Every time I hear that noise I go all cold," said Troy. "That's because you're a cold person," I bluntly said. "Excuse me," said Troy, "I am very warm and giving actually. I give a lot to people." "A lot of what?" I asked, "Chlamydia?" "I give love and kindness thank you very much," snapped Troy. "Calling me fat isn't kind," I said. "Yes it is," exclaimed, "It's called motivation. You're a podgy, balding pensioner lookalike who dresses likes middle aged Dad who doesn't know how to dress and has a fat arse. There. Now don't you feel motivated to change? That's motivation." "Oh I get it," I said, "Well, you're a b*tchy camp queen who's so full of venom you should have fangs, and as for my fat arse - yours is so fat it wipes out your footprints as you walk, well I say walk, I mean MINCE." Troy gasped and as the sniping continued it was Mike that told us to shut up.

As we drove a little closer to the seaside town we could see all of the infected scattered across the streets. It was weird – scary, but weird. There were a lot more infected than usual and it was very unsettling. The three of us looked on silently in shock. "Britney, Kylie and the holy Madonna, there's more infected over there than there are blackheads on the end of Luke's nose," said Troy. Tw*t! "How come there's so many?" I said. "Doesn't matter how many there are," said Mike, "I'll rip every single one of them limb from limb." "Maybe we've rattled them," I said, "Driving around and using the megaphone might have stirred them up and attracted the attention of a few more." "A few more!?" Troy loudly exclaimed, "Are you on E!? That's like saying you've only got a few grey hairs on the side of your head. There's f*cking trillions of those things out there. I think we should go back." "No," I firmly said, "We have to find the others." "They might be dead! Troy loudly exclaimed. "And they might not be," I said. "If we go driving around and attracting attention," said Troy, "We won't only p*ss off the infected, we might attract other people we don't know and end up bringing them back with us." "So!?" I loudly said. "So I don't think we should be bringing any Tom, Dick or Harry and sharing our food with them," said Troy, "Let's just go back." "We're not going back," I snapped, "We're looking for the others."

We drove around the town centre, cruising up and down the promenade using the megaphone to call out to any survivors. Nothing. It was very disheartening. There were a few close calls and there was one scary moment where I thought a group of infected were going to tip the car over with all of us in it but thankfully Mike and I wound down our windows stabbed a few of the undead in the head and we managed to get away. All this happened while Troy was in the back screaming like a banshee. He's bl**dy useless.

When we started to drive back to the pub Troy was saying how terrified he was. "Well that was a close call wasn't it?" he said, "We only just got out of that one." "No thanks to you," snapped Mike. "Yeah," I said, feeling annoyed, "You've got to knock this off Troy. We're all scared but we all have to step up." "My heart can't take much more of this stress," said Troy, "As far as I'm concerned that's me done. Next time you want a driving companion take little Annie Oakley." "Who?" asked Mike. "He means Courtney," I said, "Now listen Troy. You can't expect me and Mike to keep doing all the hard work. It's not fair." "It's not fair that I've been dragged into this journey of terror against my will," said Troy, "If I was of a slightly more nervous disposition I'd be needing a clean pair of pants right now." "Well enough sh*t comes out of your mouth," I said, "It's nice to know that some might come out of your arse."

The conversation quickly turned to us not finding any survivors. "I just don't get it," I said, "There's got to be survivors out there somewhere. Where are they?" "Oh my days," said Troy, "Are you stupid? There aren't any survivors because they're all infected. The streets are crammed with those horrible things. They nearly tipped the car over with us in it. Anyway, if there were survivors they wouldn't come to the town centre where there's thousands of infected. That's a stupid idea. I said it all along." "Maybe we should think about looking somewhere else." "No," I said, "We haven't searched the entire town yet." "We can't search the entire town," said Mike, "There's too many infected. Anyway we've driven up and down most of the streets calling out for people and we haven't had any replies. Maybe we could think about looking somewhere else." I could see where Mike was coming from but I wasn't totally comfortable with the idea. I don't like the thought of us abandoning the town in case we've missed something but I guess with the three of us in a little car against thousands of infected it's getting more and more dangerous. Mike suggested we go back to The Traders and look at retracing our steps and going back to where we were before we got to Dumpville.