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The morning sun began to peek over the hills behind the small forest. I stood with my M1 ready to shoot any undead that come our way.Vincent and Jack were going to the car to get any supplies that weren’t destroyed. Austin stood a few feet away from me, the cold must have been getting to him, he took his black trench coat out of his bag, and draped it over his body.

Vincent came back with nothing, “Uh, there wasn’t much to be salvaged, it was either broken or missing. “He said, for some reason sounding guilty. “But there is a supermarket and an Army Surplus Store on the way to our camp, if you would like to restock we can and get new weapons as well.” Read the rest of this entry »

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The trip was absolutely horrid, and not because half-eaten corpses and ghouls litters the streets (which was bad too), but because neither of us had anything to say. Nothing to comment on, no music, no anything, just static. And it was Christmas, it was cold as hell. Then a thought came to my mind: a lot of people didn’t make it this far, why in the hell am I complaining when we’re lucky to be alive?

“It’s Christmas,” I say,”I can’t believe for so many people it has to be spent hiding out in some old, dark, and decaying building.”

“Shame, it is, but we have our own lives to worry about.” Read the rest of this entry »

I snap awake, startled by the scratching and banging on the windows. They had found us, but how? Not that I hadn’t realized it was inevitable, but there were a lot of them. What did we do to attract so many? Then I hear it, the loud bang of a shotgun. Was it that kid? Did it matter? Whoever it was they were drawing great attention to our position, and I knew that Austin heard it too when he came running into the kitchen yelling my name.

“Will! Will!”

“Quiet,” I shush him,”This isn’t the time there are a lot of ghouls out there. Some dumbass with a shotgun has gone crazy and is blowing off the heads of ghouls. We need to leave.”

“You’re right,” Austin says with a ponderous look on his face, “the back door will suffice, am I wrong?”

“No. Go get the supplies and let’s go.”

“Hey Will?”

“Yeah,” I say, not expecting a question in this time of crisis.

“What time is it?”

I was uncertain, I rolled up my sleeve and looked at my watch, “12 a.m.”

“Damn, this asshole is out at 12 in the morning shooting ghouls, does he not realize that he is attracting even more zombies of the area?

“Maybe he was bitten, and wants to die.”

“Even so,” Austin says, “he should want others to live . . .” Austin trailed off and went into the living room and picked up the packs, he threw me my tan backpack and I strapped and secured it to my back. Austin took the bar off the backdoor and pulled his shotgun off his back.

“Little noisy don’t you think?” I muse.

“There’s already a crazy jackass with a shotgun in the middle of the night, why not add another?” I force a smile.

I took out my .45 and shot at the zombies near by. There were at least thirty in the vicinity. Any that got within ten feet I put a bullet in their brain. Austin had my back, pumping a shell into any that would try to grab him. We worked our way into the streets, the guy with the shotgun was not the kid but, by the look of him, was in his thirties. He (not surprisingly) had a group of undead surrounding him in a cul de sac. He was protecting his famiy (a wife, and two children) it was saddening, but there was no way to help him and they were doomed anyways, we had to survive, no use making two ghouls trying to save those that are already doomed.

We ran through the blood stained streets of Austin’s neighborhood, keeping our back-to-back formation. We reach the entrance to his neighborhood and jump into a dormant car, after Austin hot wires it we drive away.

“Where are we going?” I ask Austin.

“We’re going to San Antonio.”

“Why the hell are we going to San Antonio.”

“I’ve heard there is a survivor camp up there. They’re going to storm Dallas so that they can have a place to wait for rescue.”

“Alright. But what about when the car runs out of gas. Right now it’s only half full,” I say pointing at the meter.

“We walk.”

“San Antonio’s a long way away on foot.”

“Well, what other hope do we have.”

In my sleep I hear a voice, it’s echoic, and distorted, but it sound familiar. It’s Austin.”Uh, Will? You should wake up,” he says in a panicky tone. My eyes slowly open, I see Austin, he had his hand on my shoulder, apparently he was shaking me. I rolled over on my back and see the barrel of a shotgun aimed at my head, I am instantly awake. Shit! I think to myself. What happened while I was asleep?

“G-Get up,” the boy says (he can’t be older than 15). He waves the shotgun barrel over to the wall behind me where Austin stands with his hands up. I comply, slowly getting up off of the bed and back away to where Austin is standing. “L-Listen,” he starts moving the barrel closer to us, as if to prove that he is a major threat, “if you give me your supplies you’ll go unharmed, if not . . .” he let the sentence drop, as if for dramatic effect. Not knowing any other way out of the situation I kneel down and take a strap of each pack into my left and right hands.

“Stop!” Austin barks at me, I comply. “Put them down Will.” I listen.

“D-Dammit, if you give me the supplies I’ll leave and you’ll keep your lives,” he says. Moving the shotgun back and forth between the torsos of Austin and I, as if he didn’t know which of us was the greater threat.

Austin, keeping his cool and not getting pissed off, says. “Please, we aren’t like the zombies, we still have full function of our thoughts, we can negotiate. Will and I have enough supplies for three people and, as you can see, we’re a group of two. If there is something you need than please tell me, we’d be more than happy to give it to you.”

The boy took his shotgun in his right hand finger still on the trigger. “I-I need medicine,” he stops and pulls up his left sleeve revealing a chunk of flesh missing from his forearm. “One of those bastards bit me. I just need a First-Aid Kit.”

“Alright,” I say, and kneel down by the packs again and ug around in Austin’s backpack until I found one of the white tins with the little red cross. I got up, and held out my hand for the guy to take the kit. He takes it and puts it in his belt and walks out thanking us for the medicine.

“One more ghoul for the slaughter,” I say.

“Don’t be so gloomy,” Austin says bumping me in the arm with the back of his hand.

“I’ll go on watch now. You need some rest, you may be strong, but you’re useless if you’re tired.”

“You’re right, goodnight, and goodluck.”

I picked up my M1 I had against the wall behind where we were standing. At any moment I could have grabbed my M1 and put a bullet in that kid’s brain, but my God damned morals got in the way. I pulled out on of the wooden chairs from the kitchen and sat in the room. My legs crossed rifle in my lap, then lit a cigarette. First I had in two weeks.

Damn, I have no willpower.

As I sat there my eyes got heavy and I drifted away to the land of dreams, this is the first time I’ve ever fallen asleep during my shift.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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TTITN

(^_^)v

I can think of no way to describe how I’m feeling. Afraid? Angry? Scared? A combination of all three? I don’t know. I might even be going insane. The steady moan of the ghouls is constantly racking on my nerves. It would seem there are more, and more zombies each day, maybe their moan attracts more zombies.

Whatever, just a theory. I’m leaving tomorrow, Austin’s waiting at his house, he told me to wait a few days so that he could get ready. I already have my supplies: pistol .45 caliber, 200 rounds, M1 Garand rifle, lasersight and NVG scope, machete, crowbar, knife, 6-inches long, smooth. Backpack 12 quarts of water, enough canned food to last for two weeks, bed roll.

I rolled up the sleeve of my Domo-kun jacket and looked at my watch, it read 10:30 p.m. I rolled over onto my mattress. When I began to feel my eyelids getting heavy, about to leave this horrid place and off to dreamland.

CRASH!

I hear a window shatter, and the shards of crystal spread onto the floor. My eyes snap open in an instant, the distinctive moan of the ghouls has gotten louder, and clearer. I swing my legs off the bed and sling my backpack over my right shoulder, attach the sheath of my machete to my belt, holster the .45, and put my M1 to my shoulder.The ghouls began shambling towards me, I get ready with the M1, and fire at the first three undead. But it would seem that they kept coming. I took the rifle in one hand, drew my .45 and shot the next few undead, but for everyone I killed three more cam in through the window.

Shit! I think, My position is compromised! Need to find escape! I looked around the room for a way out there were undead at every window and door, Damn! Then the roof came to mind. I raced up the stairs and climbed out of the window in my bedroom. Now on the roof I jumped into the backyard. I quickly vaulted over the fence then hopped on my bike and headed to Austin’s house.

Exhausted, out of breath, and scared as hell, I arrived at my destination.

“You’re early,” Austin says.

“Not much of a greeting wouldn’t you say? Ghouls broke in and overrun my house, I had to come early. You wouldn’t believe how many ghouls I had to get through to get here.”

“Actually, I do,” Austin says in a matter-of-factly tone,”they were knocking on my door all day, they’re like god damn door-to-door salesmen.”

I laugh.

“You look exhausted, you should go to sleep, I’ll take your shift.”

“Sure?”

“No prob.”

A Trip Back In Time

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The tale of three teenager, one blog, and a never ending hatred for popular media. Of you know me IRL than you know we don't usually act like this, but this is OUR safe haven of the internet to express our opinions and put up what we want. PLEASE, do not leave dumbass comments if either (A) We like something you don't like or (B) We hate something you like, let us spell it out for you Y-O-U W-I-L-L B-E B-L-O-C-K-E-D. Get it. And if you wish to request something from me, ask, do not demand.

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