All society has officially gone to hell. The moans are literally earsplitting. I am probably amazingly lucky that none of the already infected on the ground floor can climb stairs. My survival length is going to be set depending on how I consume my rations.
The funny thing is, the water and electricity still work. A rumor said that both companies had some sort of robot that keeps it running as long as the bill is paid. When the eggheads making them were infected or eaten alive, they bugged out. Now it just keeps electricity and water running. I don’t know what it’s about. It’s probably just a rumor. I think that both are cutting out soon.
Also, did I mention one of the neighbors survived? I heard two loud explosions and looked outside. Nothing, so I ran down the stairs. I practically knocked her over as we charged into each other. The woman had some old vintage hand grenades, as she was a veteran from the Marine Corp. and blew the staircases apart.
We quickly introduced ourselves, and I told her my situation. Turns out her water and power is running, too. Anyway, now that the even possibility of zeds shambling up the stairs is gone, I could start searching the other apartments.
Oh - I forgot to mention. That vet had a grandson staying over. He’s about fourteen and insane with a rifle. It’s silenced, and he picks off zeds from the balcony every day, but for some reason the zeds don’t notice him. I was wondering why my footage always showed them dropping and sometimes their heads just flying off.
That’s another thing. They both have rifles. They’re vintage M1 Garands, from WWII. Silencers still work, thank God. Elizabeth and Jones have joined this little haven.
Well, as soon as I finished the other entry, I went out and bought “The Zombie Survival Guide” and read through it. I have promptly filled my bathtub with water and bought some tablets. I also have lots of cans full of soup and bottled water. I bought some carpentry supplies from The Home Depot, as well as a silenced .9mm pistol and innumerable amounts of ammunition.
Just as I predicted, the city was overwhelmed with these things alarmingly quickly. When I look through the one-sided glass on my balcony, they’re literally swarming the street. I saw a guy slowly backing up, blasting them with a shotgun. It looked like it jammed, though, and he started running. Then, a rotted arm shot out from one of the many cars in the street - grabbers, I call them, and gripped his arm. He pulled out a small hatchet and chopped it off, but, by then, the others had reached him. The guy was pulled, screaming in terror, into the writhing mass of moaning, shambling, gray bodies.
I had to put a few down, as they had discovered my hideaway and started pounding on the door. I swung it open and it knocked him back (it opens outside for some reason), and shot him in the head. I threw the body down the stairs and went back in. I promptly used 2x4 planks to block the door as well as moving a wardrobe and the nonfunctional oven against it. That should hold it for a while.
I don’t know how long I’m going to last. I’m rationing the food the best I can, but I need to search some of the other apartments soon. I also set up a tripod camera on the balcony that records throughout the daylight hours, then I put in more film. It’s to capture the nature of the zeds. I don’t know if it will come in handy later, but I decided to do it anyway.
Okay, well, I was right about the cover-up. We had to pretend that the virus, bacteria or whatever the hell this thing is, was a rare strain of dementia. It was blatantly fake, but the imbeciles all over the country actually believed the entire thing. However, I also heard that Florida, California, and Maine have also had infections.
Things have gotten a lot worse here. We now know that this isn’t simple. Three hours after leaving the station, I saw three people running - well, shambling - after a teenage girl. The things were all men. One was no older then thirteen years old. Their skin was light green and they just moaned as they followed her slowly. Two wore hospital gowns, while the youth wore a faded black t-shirt that read “G is for Gangsta”.
This was in a small, mostly deserted area of the city. The girl eventually tripped and sprained her ankle. The things just closed in on her. They bended down and… well, started devouring her alive. It was awful. When they got up, they started coming after me. The girl had one arm and was covered in bites.
Some police officers showed up out of nowhere. They jumped out of their car and pulled out some 9mm pistols. They then shot them in the head, killing them instantly. One warned me to stay back. Then, you’d never believe this. The girl got up. Seemingly if nothing had happened, she lunged at the nearest officer, but he shot her dead before she reached her target.
When they told me to get out, I gladly complied. I didn’t know how to comprehend what I had just seen. Whatever happens, I know one thing for certain. That is not dementia.
Okay, this journal is going to document my experiences in the apocalypse in New York City that is almost certain to happen. This morning, I flipped on the news and almost spat out my coffee at what I saw. Apparently, the dead were rising in hospitals. Illegal organ transplants have gone on for a while. Could these organs be infected with some disease?
I decided to think of it as a misunderstanding. They could have just had brain damage, and the only words were that the dead were rising. They could have went into a coma and got back up with brain damage from this mysterious disease, but I don’t know for sure.
Luckily, this hospital was about thirty miles from Manhattan’s perimeter. However, the military, always paranoid, has all but blocked off all of the entrances into New York City. Unless they show government identification or something, they’re shot on the spot. I don’t know. I’m going to the news station for work. I’m almost certain I’ll have to do a cover-up, say, some sort of form of dementia. The average citizen actually believes this crap.