True Blood books by Charlaine Harris, and anything else nearby with a vampire or the word ‘blood’ on the cover.
Battery 17% – little orange light has come on. Feel silly posting in yours – how do I make my own account?
Be careful when you get back, can hear something moving about downstairs.
xxxxxxx
Anne love – asked you to post on the website with my account, so hopefully you’ll pick this up. Don’t forget to keep the screen brightness down and the wireless turned off – and only plug in the 3g adapter when you have to.
I’m going to be late I’m afraid love, please forgive me. I’m currently writing from the back seat of the Focus. Remember that car that crashed down the road? Well it had a jerry can full of petrol in the boot. There’s not many zombies about the road for some reason so I’ve been able to walk further down the street than we thought.
The houses are full of them – don’t know if they’re sheltering in there, or just people who’ve bene infected and returned. Either way initial plan to grab food from neighbors is a no-go.
Anne here still… don’t know where Leo is…
Can’t be on the netbook long as the battery is being rationed. Ever since the power went we’ve not had light or heat or anything. 33% left = 45 minutes.
I’m up in the attic with the stairs pulled up. The ‘zombies’ have been milling about in the flat for over a week – they broke through the downstairs door and the upstairs one not long after the power went. Leo had broken into next door and taken all the tins that were left behind and stashed them up in the roof. When they finally came through our front door we went into the attic and pulled the stairs up after ourselves. It locks from both sides, so no way to get to us now.
Hiya,
Anne Typing – Leo’s asked me to post for him. He burned his hand pretty badly trying to replace the thermostat in the boiler. Haven’t had hot water for over a week now! Internet has broken and Leo hasn’t been able to play on his xbox which has been great. Currently making do on a little USB 3G thing he had stuffed in a box of old computer junk.
Not allowed to browse the internet much now incase we use it all up. Says vodaphone pay as you go on the side so don’t know why we can’t just top it up.
Deadies have gone, but we still can’t go outside. (Because Leo says so 😛 ). We’re out of books and rice so VERY FED UP.
Anne
x
Hi Henry, We’re still here.
Dozens of them in the street. They’ve stopped trying to door and just mill around now. A few broke into the flat beneath ours through the window – not sure if there was anyone there. Didn’t hear anything.
Nearly out of frozen food now. Down to dried and tins by the weekend probabaly. Anne has read all the books in the house twice. She’s going a bit nuts now. Need to get out soon.
Henry – my advise, brace any openings at ground level. They’ll push themselves through windows without a second thought but can’t seem to manage climbing.
They’ve scratch my car and knocked the wingmirrors off. Bastards.
Astraman is still downstairs. He’s made a friend and they’ve broken the glass in the door. The wooden slats are too thin for them to get through, but we can hear them – even through flat door itself.
Fed up. Want to get out. Anne and I are inflating the airbed and sleeping in the attic tonight with the stairs pulled up.
Fucking fed up. Anne is having a cry. Want to join her. Fucking zombies. FUCKING FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There’s a staricase that leads up to our flat – at the bottom of which is a door. Humble chipboard with a cheap veneer and frosted glass panels – a guardian portal to our little castle.
Astraman woke up early this morning, and has been hammering on our front door ever since. Bleary eyed and bleary brained – my first reaction was to let him in and help him. Anne stopped me as I was pulling the coffee table away from the door.
It’s odd that we grow up with these stereotyped zombies, but when they appear in front of us – we forget all the rules, all the cliches. He looked to me like a normal person, bloodied and wounded – but normal…. (more…)
Anne is being sick in the bathroom, probably on top of my sick from moments before.
They got the poor bloke from across the street. He climbed out of a bedroom window on the first floor (not the ground floor – I hate it when people mix those up), but slipped and banged himself hard on the driveway, twisting his ankle right round. We were willing him to shut up, but he effed and blinded like there was no tomorrow. The zombies who had been determidly forcing themselves through his living room window turned around and went for him.
I’m uncomfortable writing this, but I couldn’t stop myself watching. They gnawed pretty half of skin off his body. Fingers, toes and huge lumps of flesh were just gone.
There’s a bit pack of them trying to get into the house opposite us. Anne and I haven’t spoken a word for the last half hour in case they hear us. We’re communicating via laptop keyboard at the moment.
The silly bastard across the road had a stereo on loud. This is the same twat who races his souped up Astra up and down the road at the dead of night. It’s off now but the zombies have twigged that there’s someone in there. At my last peek through the curtains they’d broken the window in his sitting room.
We can’t do anything for him without attracting attention to ourselves. Anne thinks its cold. I think its sensible.
Anne called 999 – but it just rang. One of the zombies is in what looks like riot gear.
Still no email from next door neighbours. Mary and Kevin – I don’t know their second names. Really wishing I did now.
Watched out of the attic skylight last night with Anne as the yet more police cars rushed by. They’re all heading to Hockwell Ring, the evil ridden council flats a mile or so up the road from us. Police cars and gunshots aren’t unusual up there, but it was genuinely frightening to hear the shots, sirens and screams so clearly through the night. Anne and I were still there when the sun started to come up, and the shots became less and less frequent – and eventually stopped.