Saturday 07/26/14 3:03 A.M. Augusta, Georgia
Charles Lancaster groggily rolled over in bed to put his arm over his wife Christine. She wasn't there and her side of the bed was cold.
"Hmm, someone else can't sleep either", he said to himself.
"Christine are you coming back to bed?", Charles bellowed from the bedroom.
It was pitch dark in the bedroom but he could hear Christine stumble into the bedroom. It had sounded like she had fallen.
"Are you okay?", he inquired.
He could feel her crawling up underneath the covers at the foot of the bed. He could feel his wife's hands below his waist and when she suddenly she grabbed his hold of his penis. Charles grew very excited as he and his wife had a very good spontaneous sex life.
He could feel his penis in her mouth when suddenly the most intense he had ever experienced shocked through his body. She had bit down very hard biting his penis clean off.
Charles cried out and pushed Christine off the bed. He reached for the lamp and turned it on. Shaking uncontrollably he took the pillow case off his pillow and applied it to the bleeding. With his left hand he reached for his cell phone but it just slid off the night stand to the floor.
At the foot of the bed Christine slowly started to rise her to feet.
"What the hell", he groaned fearfully.
Her beautiful long blonde hair was tangled and covered in blood. The right side of her face looked looked as if it had been through a meat slicer. Her right eye was protruding out of its socket. Her eyes were as red as wine.
He was starting to feel light headed. He had lost too much blood and was starting to feel weak. He slipped into unconsciousness before Christine proceeded to jump upon him and sink her teeth into his throat.
Thursday 11/13/14 2:08 P.M. Atlanta, Georgia
On the 39th floor in a high rise apartment lies a note upon a table caked in dust.
My name is Drew Simmons and I survived this far. I guess the first few cases started in July. There were gruesome random attacks of people attacking other people. It started in a few random cities but within a month the news stopped and a few days later the power was gone. You could hear explosions and gunfire everyday and soon after that it went silent.
They said it was a kind of virus, perhaps man made that got out. All I can tell you they're not zombies, I watched enough movies to know that. It's like a person with Rabies is high on bath salts is the best way to describe it.
I don't know anyone else calls them but I call them the infected. Their eyes are pure red and they foam from the mouth. They are hard to escape from because they run and they don't seem to tire. Bullets have no affect unless you can blow their head clean off. Decapitation seems to be the only thing that works because they just keep coming.
The infected also seem to be attracted to loud noises, movement, fireworks, and firecrackers. If you light a flare or set a vehicle on fire you can attract them to it.
I will be trying to travel the east coast into Maine. The Swan's Island in Maine I heard was secure from the these infected people. My life long friend Misty Daniels lives in Maine and said it was secure before the phones stopped working.
If you're reading this, good luck and stay safe.
Monday 11/28/14 9:19 A.M. Butner, North Carolina
Drew awoke in his White Ford Taurus sitting in a Savemart parking lot. He had spent the previous day siphoning gas from abandoned vehicles. He spent that night gathering what little supplies he could loot out of the Savemart store. He kept the infected occupied with a flare he lit up and threw down the street to avoid confrontation.
Smaller towns are not quite as bad as big cities with the infected, so he thought to go looking through some residential streets for antibiotics and anything else useful.
As he drove into Maple avenue it looked like a perfect neighborhood to gather supplies. It was a perfect middle class neighborhood. As he sat back with content, he loaded his six shooter and tucked the revolver into his coat along with a few a firecrackers.
As he was walking down the sidewalk he thought he could hear a woman's cries for help. They appeared to be coming from house 1608. He approached the door slowly and quietly stepped inside. He heard the cries for help again which were coming from upstairs. He crept upstairs and his made his way to the bedroom door.
The bedroom door was cracked a little and he peeked inside. He saw two men. One was a tall burly man with a beard in a leather jacket. The other, a shorter bald man with a goatee in a jean jacket. Tied to the bed lay the woman crying for help half naked.
"I think she really wants it", said the man in the leather jacket.
"Please just let me go", pleaded the woman.
"I got a thing for brunettes", said the man in the jean jacket.
Drew pulled out his revolver and opened the door. The men startled looked towards Drew. Drew fired a shot into the head of the man in the leather jacket. The man in jean jacket rushed Drew and attempted to grab his gun. He had headbutt the man hard enough to send him to the floor and fired two rounds into his chest.
"The names Drew, Are you okay"?
"Yes, I think so, I'm Sarah", sobbed the woman.
Drew untied Sarah and made their downstairs out of the house. The gunfire had drawn attention to a dozen infected who were next door. They had smashed out the windows and jumped inside. Drew and Sarah could hear them throughout the house from outside.
Drew and Sarah and ran to the car. Inside the car Sarah realized she forgot her bag that was very important to her.
"I can't leave without my bag, it has everything I need in it", said Sarah.
"I'm diabetic and can't leave without my insulin".
"Okay, wait here," Drew piped.
Drew grabbed a machete out the backseat and proceeded back to the house. He made his way up the stairs to fetch the purse.
Sarah watched fearfully as two infected made there into the house.
Drew slammed and locked the bedroom door behind him. He could hear the two infected growling up the stairs. He didn't need them to draw more attention of more infected. He opened the bedroom window. He lit a few firecrackers to keep the infected next door occupied.
Drew, machete in hand, opened the bedroom door. He kicked one of the infected and sent it flying down the stairs. He than swung the machete slicing off the head of the other infected. He raced down the steps and kicked the other infected down again and swung his machete. The head went rolling out the front door.
Drew with Sarah's bag in hand made it back to the car. Sarah looked at Drew gratefully.
"Thank you so much much", she said as snuggled into her parka.
He nodded as they drove off.
Tuesday 01/13/15 4:48 P.M. Norwich, Vermont
Since their arrival in Vermont in December, Drew and Sarah took shelter in a farm house for the winter. It was a beautiful farm house, pale white, granite shingles, and a huge red barn next door. At times they were buried in a few feet of snow. Whomever lived in the farm house before took great care of the house and property. Thankfully they had wood furnace and enough was wood cut for the winter.
Drew sat outside Grandcare Pharmacy. He got a list from Sarah of what to get, including her insulin and various antibiotics. He tucked his six shooter into his coat and grabbed his machete and stepped out his car. It was quiet, no sign of any infected.
Drew zipped up his backpack, he got everything needed for the most part. In the pitch black silence he was startled by the sound of a glass jar shattering. Drew whipped out his six shooter and glanced over to where the noise came from.
"Don't shoot!" said a man's voice.
An older middle aged man with silky gray hair and glasses came out from the aisle.
"Sorry, I thought you might have been one of those things when I saw you come in," said the man.
"I'm Roger, my daughter was real sick. and I was getting some antibiotics for her."
"We are holding up at the Starset Motel down the road."
Before Drew could say a word the window of the pharmacy shattered. An infected woman with dark brown hair, wearing a red dress, and foaming at the mouth attacked Roger. She bit into Roger's throat and than started scratching and pounding Rogers face. She was screaming as she did it.
Drew fired a shot at the infected woman. She fell off Roger and than stood right up and charged Drew. He quickly pulled out his machete and slammed it down on top of her head, splitting it in half.
"Room 14", Roger gargled.
Roger had died and Drew knew what he meant. He was going to check on Roger's daughter and bring her the medicine in Roger's bag.
Drew wasn't going to allow Roger to turn into one of the infected. Before he left the pharmacy he removed Roger's head with his machete.
At the Starset Motel in room 14 Drew stared at his reflection his mirror. He ran his fingers through his scruffy beard and let out a sigh.
Whomever was in room 14 was no longer there. The room was trashed with a broken television set, shattered coffee pot, and blood everywhere. Drew set Roger's bag on the nightstand, took one last look at the blood stained walls and headed back to the farm house.
Thursday 04/02/15 2:19 A.M. Swan's Island, Maine
Swan's Island was a small island town with a population of about 350 before the outbreak. For quite a few months that little island town was safe until a couple survivors tried to find the safe haven there. Both of the survivors had been bit and it didn't take long for a small island town to become infected.
Misty Daniels lay awake nervously playing with her beautiful blonde bangs. She had been held up for roughly two months on the second floor of a two story house. The steps were barricaded from the infected and the only way out was the bedroom window. The second floor only had a long hallway, a bathroom and bedroom.
Food and water was scarce. She had about twelve cans of food left that she was now stretching out to last. She had one package of 24 water bottles left. With hundreds of the infected on the island she had no way to get supplies or escape.
Misty started thinking about Drew and wondered if he was okay. They had been best friends since they were kids. At one time they had a romantic relationship for a little while till they broke it off. They didn't want to ruin their friendship. She stared out the window again peering across the ocean for any sign of life. If Drew was alive she knew he would come for her.
Monday 04/20/15 6:26 P.M. Outside Swan's Island, Maine
It wasn't easy finding a boat but Drew managed. After a long six miles he stopped the boat along the coastline of Swan's Island. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and staked out the island.
"See anything?", Sarah asked Drew.
"Yep, at least hundred infected."
"Should I get the fireworks out?"
"Not yet, I think I see something."
Through all the chaos a white house caught Drew's attention. "I'm Alive Drew" was painted in bright red next to a window.
"She's alive Sarah, get the fireworks out, I have an idea".
Drew and Sarah lit up the sky with fireworks. They could hear the agitated sounds of the infected as they stared at the sky.
"You have to hurry Drew, we don't have a lot fireworks to keep them distracted", Sarah said as Drew dove into the water.
Keeping to the shadows with only his machete he made his way to the house. He tried the front door but it was locked, so he made his way into front living room window that was shattered out. There wasn't any sign of Misty so he attempted to make his way upstairs. The whole staircase was barricaded like Fort Knox.
"I'm here Misty!", Drew yelled as he made his way back outside.
Laying on the side house was a small ladder. He propped the ladder up and made his way up to the roof to the window Misty had left her message next to. The fireworks were slowing down which meant he didn't have much time left. He needed to act fast to get her out safely.
Drew left his machete on the roof as popped the bedroom window open. Misty wasn't in the bedroom so he made his way into the hallway. He spotted Misty outside the bathroom door with her back to him.
"Misty, thank god", Drew said.
As Misty turned around, Drew dropped down to his knees.
"No, it can't be!", Drew cried out.
Misty's eyes were pure red and she was foaming from the mouth. She jumped on Drew taking a piece out his throat and shoulder. Her infected angry screams could be heard throughout the house as her nails clawed away on Drew before pounding his face with her fists.
Sarah pulled her pocket watch and stared at the time, it was 7:07. The fireworks were long gone and everything had returned to a scary silence. She had a feeling Drew was gone and a feeling a dread poured over her.
Sarah sat contemplating her situation as she grabbed Drew's bag and pulled out his revolver.