The Infected (15 page)

11:43pm, July 11

Can’t sleep. Second night in a row now. I remember before this all began how I could sleep at the drop of a hat (what a stupid saying by the way). Man, I loved sleeping. Especially when I had Lil with me. Her warm little body curled up in a ball, my arms around her naked body… this could get X-rated… I just felt so happy then, so… content with life, a life so full of promise. Now I wake up at night and can’t get over the things that have happened around me. Is it a bad dream, I sometimes think? A really, really bad dream? Then it all comes flooding back to me – it’s not a dream. It’s a fucking nightmare.

I have to apologise. I’ve just gone back over my last few posts, and man I am a depressing little shit. Hey, I’m still alive – I could be fighting a guy with no teeth, one eye and two exposed man boobs for a piece of dead dog. But I’m not, I still stand a chance of getting out of this alive. I’m just going to keep thinking of Bloemfontein – it’s very strange that a city I never thought I would ever visit again could be my salvation – but I’ve got to keep on hoping for the best, and if Bloem is the best then I’ll keep hoping for it. Okay, I’m babbling now. That usually means that I am getting tired. Thanks for listening. Sometimes you just need to get it all out to be able to move on. And I’m moving on. Love you Mom, love you Dad, love you Lil.

Sam

6:27pm, July 13

Come on you ‘Boro! With just three games to go in my first season as manager of Middlesborough, I am guaranteed a top seven finish. If I win my last three games (which I don’t think will happen as I play Man United and Aston Villa away) and Tottenham lose two of their games, I’ll finish fifth. But I’d be happy with seventh and delighted with sixth. That Freddy Guarin chap that I mentioned before – he’s scored 14 goals this season – not bad at all for a defensive midfielder, only five behind my top scorer Tuncay. Another bargain, John Fleck, a 17 year old from Rangers who can play basically anywhere in midfield or upfront, has been brilliant since I signed him during the January transfer window – his average rating of 7.43 has catapulted me up the table after a sluggish start. I forgot how brilliant this game is!

But that’s all the news that I have – just had to let you know!

See ya

Sam W

8:56am, July 15

You won't believe this...

From:
Chris
Sent:
15 July 2011 07:44 AM
To:
Sam Ward
Subject:
Yo

Sam the Man... How the fuck are you doing bud? What's with this getting all weepy over your 'dead' friend? Enough of that already, we hadn't even fucking met before! But I appreciate it dude, I really do. But enough of this soppy shit - I am alive and well!

How, you may be asking yourself? This is how...

After the zombies eventually made it up onto my level, I started shooting them through the window until I ran out of ammo, but they still kept coming. Fuck, the noise was the worst - there must have been hundreds of them because I swear the walls were shaking with their groaning. It wasn't fucking pleasant. So as they climbed over the balustrade, and then over the pile of their dead friends, I knew that the end was near and there was no point fighting it. They were pushing up against the windows and it was only a matter of time until the sheer weight of them caused the glass to cave in. So you know what I did? I went for a crap.

I mean, who would want to be eaten alive when you need a big crap? So I went into the bathroom, grabbed a book, the last thing I thought I would ever read - turned out to be Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay - and had one of the best craps of my life. After I finished I sat back down on the toilet and lifted my head to the heavens to pray to God to make it quick. Funnily enough, I had never believed until that minute. There was a crash from the room next to me and I heard a thump or two as some of the fuckers fell through into what used to be 'my' space. The noise made me open my eyes. And I was looking at the trapdoor in the ceiling. "Chris, you dumb fuck," I thought.

I had a split second to make a decision as I heard the groaning approaching the bathroom door... do I open the door and just let them get it over and done with, or do I keep on trying to get through whatever the fuck this whole thing is? I reached for the door. Not to open it, you pessimistic idiot, but to lock it! Then I remembered that I had thrown that key at one of the stupid yapping dogs downstairs the day after I moved in. Not good.

So I grabbed my dustbin, turned it over, jumped onto it and reached for the trapdoor - I could just reached and flipped it over as the door swung open and a lot of them - sorry, I wasn't bothered about counting them - came in reaching for me. But I didn't have the strength to pull myself up. "Great," I thought, "So I am going to get eaten. Then, and I don't know if it was that God guy again looking out for me, but the fattest dead guy I have ever seen, fell down in the rush to get to me, knocked my bucket out of the way and, as I lifted my legs, landed beneath me. I jumped up once, landed on his back and was sprung up as if I had just jumped on a trampoline! One of the fuckers grabbed my leg and bit me, luckily only getting my jeans, but by that time I was already levering myself up into the ceiling.

I stood up (well, as high as you can inside a ceiling), and gave those fuckers a wave and a zap as I shut the trapdoor again. Then it was fucking dark... I let my eyes get accustomed to the light – or lack of it – as they zombies below me groaned even louder. When I could see again I noticed a few small chinks of light coming through the tiles – I whacked what I perceived to be the ‘weak spot’ with my shoulder, and eventually the gap started getting bigger and bigger. I pushed and pulled the tiles apart until I had an area big enough to climb out. I stood on the roof high above the golf course and though, “Fuck, it’s cold.” But I wasn’t going to go back in for clothes – I would have to make do for now with my jeans, my Puma’s and a dodgy yellow jersey over a dodgy John Cena wrestling shirt.

I had a quick sneaky look over the roof onto my balcony and the garden below, and they were fucking everywhere! Man, I have never seen so many horrible looking things in one place... so I decided to get as far away from them as possible. I headed to the far end of the complex, over the rooftops, and had some scary experiences jumping over the metre and a half to two metre gaps between the blocks. After I nearly didn’t make the third jump, I thought that okay, I’d got far enough away. I lowered myself onto a balcony, made sure the unit was unoccupied and broke window to let myself in. I’d always wanted to do that.

My fucking luck though, I had climbed into a unit which previously belonged to an old lady, so my new wardrobe consisted of horribly knitted pink jerseys... they keep me warm though, so stop fucking laughing Sam!

I wasn’t keen on staying in the complex any longer after what had just happened, so I went outside, grabbed a garden spade for protection and climbed over the fence a few hundred metres from where the last handful were waiting to climb over and try get at me – I made a dash across the thirteenth fairway of the Royal Johannesburg Golf Course and hid in a bunker while I tried to see if any of them had maybe spotted me – they hadn’t, because after ten minutes, none of them had even looked my way, never mind started coming towards me.

So I felt more comfortable with them thinking I was still in there in the roof somewhere as I made my way across the golf course. I only came across one of them on my way to the other side, a suburb called Linksfield, but you’d know that, wouldn’t you? And the guy I ran into was no match for my spade...

I have been living in around the King David Primary School since then, scrounging for food, supplies and weapons in the nearby shops and restaurants. Dude, the roads are a fucking mess here! There are cars everywhere! My plan was to grab a car and drive to Bloemfontein, but not yet, not here...

This morning on my early morning forage – I think this fucking cold makes them slower, and they don’t really come out until later in the day – I came across this internet cafe, Nico’s

Lounge it’s called, and luckily they have a UPS that I have used to write this, and fucking get this, make myself a hot cappuccino! Luckily I remembered your email address, otherwise this would have been a long, pointless email to no-one in particular.

But the UPS isn’t going to last forever, so I better end off here before it cuts me off. But hey, I am alive and fucking kicking, and who knows? Maybe we’ll both get to Bloemfontein?

If I can get hold of you again, I will, but if not, safe travelling pal!

No fuckers are going to take us down!

Cheers

Chris

2:44pm, July 16

Great news on the veggie garden front – things are sprouting up left, right and centre (left being lettuce, right is where I planted the spring onions and centre = tomatoes). I can’t wait to sample some fresh food, it’s been ages – I could devour the leaves and stems right now! But I’ll wait... Maybe two weeks or three weeks down the line I will be able to eat something that I have grown for myself – that will be awesome!

It’s been pretty damn quiet around here lately since Baldy and Big Boobs had their fight. That evening three of the infected found their way in (or maybe they were already in?) and picked at her – gouged out her eyes, bit off her tongue, chewed on her toes and fingers, but she’s still mostly there – the smell when I open the balcony door is testament to that… maybe that’s why the veggies are growing so well… gross… Other than that I haven’t seen any of the infected at such close proximity for a while. Baldy has, however, drawn quite a large crowd of mice, birds, insects and even another cat. Ironic, isn’t it? She died fighting over the right to eat a cat, now a skinny, malnourished excuse for a cat is licking her ocular cavities. It’s odd how things work themselves out.

Okay then, almost time for me to try and take Middleborough into the unchartered territory of European football – wish me luck.

Take care

Sam W

4:17pm, July 19

I am seriously in my Mom’s bad books. Why, you may ask? Well, because I told her about my plan to drive to Bloemfontein and try find this, in her words, “mythical place”. I am sure that she is just being maternal, but she shot down my idea as if I was a fat kid and I had just asked her whether I could have another jelly-filled doughnut. “Absolutely no way, my boy,” she had snapped when I told her my plan yesterday during our daily call. I hadn’t meant to tell her yet, but there is not really much else to talk about these days.

“I forbid for you to go,” she had continued. “Well, Mom, there’s not really much you can do to stop me,” I had replied before biting my tongue and instantly regretting what had left my mouth. Then she cried. A lot. “Mom, please,” I eventually said. “I am going to go insane if I don’t anyways. You at least have people with you – I haven’t seen another person… well another normal, living person, in ages.” This seemed to calm her down a bit. But I can see her point – if the shoe was on the other foot, and it was Lil who wanted to abandon her safety for a long shot in the dark, I would also strongly object. “I just can’t go on knowing that you are out there, vulnerable, alone, with nothing to protect you from those monsters…” she trailed off again in a stream of tears. “I’ll be fine I assured her,” but as we said our goodbyes I heard the apprehension in her voice. To make her feel better I said, “But hey Mom, who knows, maybe by the time I’m ready to go in a month or two things will have changed. Nobody predicted this mess, maybe it will all be over as soon as it started.” She agreed, but not wholeheartedly, and I know that she would bring it up again in the future. Maybe, just to protect her, I’ll tell her that I shelved the plans until I am actually on the road.

I asked if they’d be able to get out of where they are but she didn’t sound too positive. Since my Dad did what he did, it seems as if the infected have been drawn to their presence and she now estimates that there are between a hundred and a hundred and fifty of them milling around in the street. Never a good sign.

Take care

Sam W

11:00am, July 22

Hi. I’ve been quiet lately because everything has been quiet. It is driving me fucking insane!

Sorry about that the F-word, but man… it is so frustrating doing nothing. Well, I lie… since I last updated my blog I have been doing some research on the now defunct
www.weathersa.co.za
website (it was last updated on May 8th). Specifically I have been looking into the rainfall patterns in Gauteng and the Free State, the province where Bloemfontein is located.

It’s taken a while, but going back five years, and I’ve had to go back through each day manually, October and November are the best months for rain across both Gauteng and the Free State. But, and here’s the bit of info which got me excited, is that the rainy season has been steadily moving forward over the last few years – where there was previously a tiny amount of rain in August in 2005 and 2006, in 2009 there was almost as much in August as there was in September. Interestingly too, in September 2008 there was a period of nine days where it rained throughout the country (with the exception of the Cape). Now, if we have a spell of rain like that, and the infected hate water as much as I think they do, then that would be the perfect time to get to Bloem…