Weapons of Class Destruction

Around 11:00 a.m--It would have taken some by surprise. That scare last year involving that comet has been written off so easily by the skeptics. They don't know what it was like; they weren't there. Some of my friends who were caught in the hysteria back then have even dismissed it. But I remember. So when I woke to the strange sound of, well, nothing, my sense were on alert. My sister left for work as usual, my brother took the bus over to the plasma clinic; I haven't heard from either of them since.

I first noticed the neighbors acting strangely soon after dragging my ass out of bed. It's not uncommon to see people hanging around in the parking lot outside their apartments, working on their cars, chatting; it was the fact that they were doing none of these things that set me on the alert. Some seemed to just be...standing there, staring at the sky, others were wandering aimlessly. And then I noticed one frantically packing her car, trying to get her kids away; she was so focused on her panic she didn't even see them closing in around her. The ghouls were attacking before the poor woman could even get the key in the ignition. I had to look away but I could still hear it, those terrible noises, the screams...

This is it, this is the what the "false alarm" was about last year. Who knows, maybe that was just to get us ready for this; maybe someone knew this was going to happen and tried to prepare us. Maybe I'm not crazy and it really did go down just like I'd thought it did last year. Last year I ran. This year, I'm standing my ground.

ETA: 12:36 p.m.--A quick check of the internet revealed that this is happening all over. beguine has posted some useful information here and thorninthefoot has a theory about that tomato scare that's hit, among other places, my native Florida hard. On the other hand, Jeff posts a report on undead squirrels here. Still not able to get a hold of relatives in New York; phone service, and that's satellite based as well as dial-up, seems to have gone out fairly quickly. A friend has a theory that it's all about containing the panic.

Firearms are helpful but, let's face it, anything that's gonna make a difference is kind of impractical; you're luckier if you have a garden shed to raid. Took-to-brain contact seems to be the absolutely most efficient way of taking one of these suckers out, even something as blunt as a shovel as long as you have enough strength to put behind it. My friend talked about trying to raid a pawn shop around the corner on Archer; I told her it's too risky. The zed seem to be interestedly mostly in the more populous areas at the moment, and that means the University and the two main roads in town: Archer and Newberry. It'd be safer is we were on the eastern side of town but we'll make do.

ETA: 1:00 p.m.--Our "gated" community's offering the most minimal in security at the moment, as there's a foot path right beside the main gate. I'm more worried about being locked in with my infected neighbors. There are many still uninfected in the neighborhood but most are distrustful; they've already had to put down family members.

joshuwain reported sometime this morning/last night that the comet's back. That fucking comet. I knew it! Though I'm still not discounting the tomatoes. My sister brought home fresh ones a co-worker had grown just the other day. Both she and my brother partook; I did not. It could be why I'm not hearing from either of them: they're already infected.

ETA: 1:22 p.m.--My friend began joking about not having a castle nearby, to fortify ourselves. Let's face it, the power's not going to last much longer if things keep getting worse, and my apartment is going to over very precious little afterwards. The least we can do is find somewhere safe to try to wait this out in. And if this is the end of the world, well, we can make our own little home. I'm not expecting anyone to come and save me; the police are gone, there hasn't been the sound of a siren in about two hours, when you'd hear one every few minutes or so. we're on our own, at least for the time being.

My mind instantly flashed to Gainesville, Florida's very own version of a castle: the gated community in Haile Plantation in Haile Plantation North. Talk about fortified! That place houses the richest of Gainesville's elite, from Basketball coach Billy Donovan and football coach Urban Meyers to the best doctors Shands has to offer! Doctors! Plus, there's all sorts of shops and a grocery store about half a mile away. It's surrounded by woods, the mansions have security systems and motion sensors and, most likely, generators! It'll take some effort to get in ourselves, but if there are enough of us and we're organized enough...

It's a bit of a walk, even for me, but I sincerely believe this is our salvation, our place to make a stand. The roads are dangerous; it seems like everyone and their brother got into a car infected this morning which makes them dense with not only the walking scavengers--as some of the zed don't seem at all adverse to feasting down on their own kind--but as well to those with enough cognition left in their rotting brains to roll down a window or, God forbid, open a door. I've seen these zed do both.

We're going to make a go for it! Update later.

ETA: 2:40 p.m.--The woods might be perilous because you can't see what's coming at you, but the reverse is true as well, so keep that in mind. Avoiding the traffic built up across the road especially near the schools, a band of survivors and myself were able to cross into the more heavily wooded section across the street. We made a fatal mistake wandering too closely to that first subdivision, though; we lost one member of our team to a bite wound--he elected to stay behind--when he decided to look in the nearest house for provisions. At least he managed to take some of those mothers out with him before they took him down.

We steered clear of the next one, though passed by closely enough that we could observe their behavior. Now, mind you, I'm not for all that touchy-feely crap about the zeds being able to think or feel--hell, I've seen them cannibalize their own kind--but it is strange that they seem to attempt in some cases to go about their regular lives--kids bumping into equipment on the playground, a mother gazing blankly at the kitchen. No, I'll never see them for anything more than they are: walking, stinking corpses, but it does make you wonder.

We had a surprise when we at least reached our goal: Guards. With weapons that made our hand tools look like jokes. Seems like the rich aren't only getting richer, they're getting smarter. Another survivor in the group had an idea to attract enough zed that the guards would be too busy to notice us climb over the gate (zed, by the way, I've noticed are very, very poor climbers if they're so inclined to give it a try at all!) I guess it's time for this little lambie to go and shake her delicious tail some. It seems cruel, but we're desperate.

Keep you posted!

ETA: 4:00 p.m.--Right on the heels of reading this post by horizonchaser, our group encountered our first "sprinter." It was the wounded member of our band from that first subdivision, he'd succumbed and had apparently decided to follow us after all, whether it's just pure instinct to follow the scent of fresh blood or something..other, I can't say. He made a hell of a decent distraction though, the stumblers and shamblers obviously following his very noticeable lead as he dashed towards us, and we dashed towards the guards and the gate.

Idiots must have never seen a zombie movie in their lives! I mean, we'd been taking 'em down since noon and they didn't even know to go for the head shot with their fancy boomsticks! I saw the former member of our ranks take twenty rounds in the chest and keep coming until someone got lucky and a stray bullet hit the kid's head. Meanwhile, we made for the gate like no one's business! It was a team effort: bars too close together to slip through and no horizontal bits to find purchase for our feet on. I stayed behind, helping others up first; it felt like my duty since this was my idea. Finally, someone came out of the big fuckin' house and just shouted to me the code for the gate security pad.

We're in! And they're piling up outside. Time to recharge the battery on my laptop and another update shall follow!

ETA: 5:26 p.m.--I was heartened to hear from my friend jadeblood, though crushed to hear that this has made it to her neck of the woods.

The rich are different from you and I, though I never thought I'd be so happy about the financial elitism that rules this country! The compound--oh, that sounds so David Koresh! I like to refer to it as BFM (Big Fuckin' Mansions) was as secure as I'd hoped it'd be, though we did have to take care of a few infected family members some were holding onto, locking them in rooms of their houses etc.

The doctors were luckily on our side, there to explain that this could not be cured and that the best course of action was what he were suggesting. Most didn't like it. Hell, I wouldn't have liked it if it had been my sister or brother or any of my friends. Some were still cognizant enough to beg as we put them over the wall; those were the most painful. Some were begging them to leave, to run, to draw the zeds away. I watched one shoot himself before the zeds reached him as he declared, "Better dead than Zed!" That's become our motto.

The brick perimeter wall is holding for now but we'll have to do something about the wrought iron gates in the near future. There's something galvanic in the air, like an oncoming thunderstorm and there are clouds in the sky. For once, I truly hope it passes us by; I have a feeling such an event would only cause chaos among an already disorganized group. Many are trying their best; lots are arguing, most are trying to be the loudest voice in the crowd. They need to understand that it's time to buckle down, put aside emotion and ego, and survive this bitch, if only just for the night!

ETA: 6:31 p.m.--Thanks to horizonchaser's post here, about how noise will attract the zombies, some of use had the idea of trekking off to the grocery store's parking lot and setting off a bunch of car alarms. The point is to distract and/or pick off as many of these bastards as we can get. Some of the surrounding buildings offer second storey balconies that could easily become sniping points for those of us with firearms (scatter weapons are best for crowds) but also offer the added danger of more of the zeds lurking inside.

The streets are complete blocked, so using a car is out of the question, but going over the wall at unexpected places allows us to slip in and out of the BFM. We're unorganized, though the fight for power and control has died down; most of us realized that we have to organize to survive but the problem is, everyone wants to be the one to say it first and loudest.

Of course, the political and religious factions have been going nuts with their own agendas; one of our ranks spent the afternoon surfing all the spin and it's considerable from the right and the left. Everyone wants to use this to our advantage. Rumors of our president being bitten are unconfirmed for the moment but worrisome. We've had no aide as of yet though we've been using every method we can think of to communicate with the outside world.

deadshrimpblues has gotten the best look at the strange atmospheric condition currently affecting us all and writes about it here.

ETA: 7:29 p.m.--A moving poem was posted here by bloodymare. I think it speaks to all of us who have lost loved ones today.

ETA: 8:13 p.m.--As night falls and the moans become more insistent, more prevalent, I have these words to offer up to you:

Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, sickness and captivity would, without this comfort, be insupportable.
--Samuel Johnson

For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.
(Romans 8:24,25)

Now the company of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in common. (Acts 4:32)

Peace, Ghani

Jeff from Blue Moon Rising will be hosting Blog Like it's the End of the World this year--see the post about it HERE.



Peace, Ghani

It all happened so quickly. There has been no official warning issued in my county as of yet, but would anyone know if there was? The phone lines are down for good; tried to reach my sister-in-law and brother across town but it's no good. The local news stations are staying mum. Thank God for this blog or I wouldn't be able to keep abreast of anything.

A riot at the morgue, that's how they're saying it started. The dead walk. Sensationalistic nonsense, or so went everyone else's thinking. I've been prepared. I've been waiting for this day. Even my sister, who I've tried to teach basic survival skills to, is in shock. We've locked ourselves indoors, like they said we should, and have barricaded the doors and windows best we could. There's such a panic out there, who can tell the attackers from the attackees? I saw someone one the road just outside the gate to our apartment community, a good samaritan, stop to check on a victim of a hit and run. I've never seen so much blood. The victim groaned and grabbed the arm of the samaritan; soon there were two or three of them there. The poor guy screamed until the last.

We can't stay here forever. We're thinking of heading away from the cities, somewhere costal so we can have the ocean to our back. It's be a five hour drive at the least.

Thanks to this blog, we now know that the zombies cannot smell you when you're covered in their blood. They work from smell, apparently. Fresh blood is like a beacon. How one is supposed to get close enough to them to utilize this information is still questionable, but it's only a short distance to the butcher's. If they ignore dead blood, what's the difference between human and pig or cow? We're hoping nothing. It's risky though.

There are several pawn shops nearby which should yield at least a small defensive arsenal. Ammo is another story. The shooting range is out of our way but it's easier than trying to break into a weapon's shop; their windows and doors are barred beneath the glass and some people are using it as a hideout. That's not going to last long. All it takes is one to figure out how to get in and then they're all determined. They seem to know what the other has done. It's a pack mentality.

ETA: There's been an announcement. There's a mandatory evacuation. The governor's urging those who can help themselves to leave others behind. He's calling the elderly, the disabled, "acceptable casualties." I won't accept that. My sister's deaf, I'm agoraphobic; we've been left behind. we won't allow that to happen to others. We took the neighbor's camper/trailer, my sister and I, and we're looking to help those who cannot fend for themselves. Give us a sign, write in your window, anything, and we'll help. We've painted a giant red cross (in pigs blood, which seems to be holding so far) on both sides of the vehicle and on its bonnet, so you'll know when you see us. Please, give us a sign. If you have a vehicle you can drive, that is practical, with facilities, toilets etc., please join us!

We are calling ourselves Zombie Relief Aides (ZRA; you'll see it written on the camper) and we implore you, do not let the weak, the injured, the undefended become "acceptable casualties."

Signal us any way you can. Help is out there.

ETA: According to this report, zombies will spontaneously combust in the ehat. Which gave me an idea. Flare guns are way easier to come by than ordinary firearms, some hurricane preparedness kits even have 'em. Hey, it's messy, but you can't beat the entertainment value of it!

ETA: We were able to gather in the rural area surrounding Gainesville, in Archer. We are now thirty strong and counting, with no less than five RVs ready to aide and assist. I was pleased to see the number of able-bodied volunteers we've gotten since I've put the call out, from students to the local police. An engineer student is currently busy working out a plan with the map that will allow us to stop and refuel (and gather supplies) in the smallest, least populated towns. We've rescued at least a dozen from infested areas, people trapped in homes and such.

It's easy to pick up a guy when it's the end of the world, I'vwe noticed. Lines like, 'Going my way, stranger?' seem witty and cute under the circumstances, instead of just tired and goofy. Romance among the zombies, hardly the most pressing issue, but if we don't struggle to retain these humanistic qualities, what good are we as survivors?

ETA: Thunder. That's no good. The sky is dark grey, like slate. It's like God wants to wash this mess clean of his earth. I watched the Mythbusters special where they showed that water can actually amplify human scent. They only talked about skin cells, not blood, but it seems practical right now to assume the worst.

ETA: Pouring, driving rain. Maybe this is a blessing after all; they seem confused by it, their vision poor, not that it's doing us any favors on the windshields of our vehicles. We're also less likely to spot survivors. Once again I urge that you do anything to catch our attention!

ETA: We lost one in our caravan. The zombies swarmed, there were about fifty of them towards the end, as if they sensed the weakness. They tipped the RV right over and bashed their way inside once they caught scent of the fresh blood of the injured inside. We had grown to sixty-five in number. We're back down to about forty five.

God help us all.

Your friends at ZRAA (Zombie Relief Aide and Assistance)

ETA: Molotov cocktails, very efficient for rain defense and for taking down packs en masse. Just remember to use oil, cooking is good, gasoline is better. They'll even spread it if they try to get away, cleared a straight path right off the highway for us, and remember to keep clear yourself if in a car!

Some useful advice on handmade weaponry I've found do-it-yourseves to be much more effcient than ordinary firearms!

Been having to drive on the median as so many cars are now blocking the actual tarmac, which can be slow going but no slower than the usual construction delays I might add.

Your friends at ZRAA (Zombie Relief Aide and Assistance)

ETA: I have never killed someone before. I have never wielded a weapon of any sort, but it can come easy when one's life is in danger. It's easier when the lives of those aroudn you are in danger. Thank God for upper body strength for those blunt weapons, I'll tell you. Baseball bats have proven as efficient as firearms, especially in rescue attempts when we got up close and personal.

ETA: Night. Darkness falls and there is a cautious sense of optimism. The sun is fading in a soft orange and rose, the storm has passed. We've seen less and less of the things--some members of my group prefer "ghouls" to the zed word--and those with us who have passed--rest their souls--have stayed dead. Reports are coming in now from other parts of the world, encouraging, hopeful.

So, what happened this day? Will we ever know? Everyone to astronomers to religious zealots have a theory that suits their own agenda. Was it from space as this blogger, the phenomenon's original whistle blower, suggests? I think the evidence is still too thin to draw a definite conclusion, but I personally agree.

We are more than one hundred strong now, around thrity RVs, one Greyhound bus and too many SUVs to count. This has been a team effort and I have seen people rise above their expected limitations, I have seen people's selflessness and their generosity.

What has this taut us, if anything? Teamwork. The spirit of humanity.

And some wicked survival and killing skills to be sure!

I think I'll write a memoir based on my experiences. I can call it You'll Never Eat This Town for Lunch Again!

This is the ZRAA (Zombie Relief--and Rescue--Aide and Assistance Effort) signing off.


Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:3)

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5)