Tuesday,13, September... for arguements sake. My watch is broken, but I know I am close to the right day.
...It’s been over a week since it all started.... I think. Everyone I ever cared for is dead...somewhere. Probably. I took an inventory today and we are running out of food again. I’m so hungry. So hungry.
I’ve decided to keep a journal in case... I don’t know. In case it’s of some use to someone. Mainly because it helps me. Why is this happening to us? All of us. Perhaps The Gods are finally cleaning the slate. Starting over. Getting rid of the superfluous, the weak, the old and the new. The rich, the poor. This disease doesn't carry the petty predjudices of man. Even the dead aren't safe. There used to be dignity in death...once. Now there is only humiliation and disgrace.
Nothing works anymore. No phones. No radio. No T.V. I don't even know if anyone can read this. I need to clear my mind. Remain sane in the sanatorium that has come to surround my every sight, my every thought.
I saw a movie when I was a kid. I forget the name of it, but one thing stuck with me. One line. ‘ When there’s no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth.’ Well.... Hell is full. And the dead are here.
Thursday, 15, September?
I have refelected on what I have seen of...well...what feeble vocab can describe what has happened here?
Apocalypse, armageddon, judgement day? A biblical plague for the 21st century. I am not a religious person, but the death and decay that has been sprung upon this land certainly merits a rethink on the possiblility of some dark divine intervention. Perhaps this plague has infected God himself, filling his children with the same disease. A curse to end all curses.
The soul and grim advantage of a conventional plague is it's ultimate conclusion....death. There is an end game. A final moment where whoever is untouched by it , whether the last person on earth, or the last 50,000 people, remains alive. Not this time. Death is no longer a factor. There are no more borders for this disease. No stopping it. Death Himself just lends it his bony hand a billion times over and all it touches succumb to this murderous canabalistic lust.
I would kill myself.....but what would be the point?
Friday, 16, September - WHAT HAPPENED FIRST - LONDON
Here's what I know. Approximately 12 days ago everyone around me just stopped. They just stopped in their tracks. The taxi I was in was only just commencing it's lift off when the driver ceased...we dropped maybe ten feet to the ground. There was carnage everywhere. People collapsed in the streets, cars collided everywhere. In the air vehicles tumbled down. I saw one man in the cab infront of me. He must've been two hundred feet up but I could still see the panic in his face as his craft headed for the opposing building. He scrambled out through the sunroof and jumped for the fire escape seconds before the cab span into the gap between the buildings and crashed. He missed. The poor bastard missed. He flapped his arms around and screamed the Wilhelm scream. You know that one scream you hear used in al the movies. That's the exact sound he made. On the way down he hit a power cable and it sliced him clean in half across his hips. Christ. He didn't die even when he slapped into the canopy of a fruit and veg stand and on to the pavement. I'll never forget the horror in his eyes as he saw the rest of his severed body land beside him. I scrambled from my taxi thinking everything that could come down already had, but then I heard the engines. A Global passenger craft smashed into the tower block infront of me. It rained down fuel in great streams of flame. Bodies fell from the sky, silently. No screams. No cries. Just empty vessels of burning flesh. I cowered, beside my felled cab, tears streamed from me. I know how that reporter felt on witnessing The Hindenburg and his words were perfect. "Oh, the humanity."......the humanity.
I looked around at what was left of Canary Warf. There were a few people still alive. People like me. Some standing, some cowering, most crying at the cruel world in front of them. That's when ressurection occured. Those collapsed on the street around me started twitching. Blood... Blood came from their eyes and skin. Then the screams started. It was like no sound I have ever heard before. Like demons calling to Hell. Then they arose, one by one. The woman across the street from me was the first to go. She had emerged from a gathering of commuters collapsed around her. She didn't know where to turn. She just stood there as the bodies around her began grasping at her. She didn't make a sound at first. Not until the first bite. I couldn't make out her cries from the bleeders around her. They tore her to shreds, like hyenas feasting on carrion.
That's when it was my turn. The widow of my cab beside me burst with a blood ridden shower of glass. The undead driver shrieked at me, teeth gnashing at me. Thank god he wore his seat belt as it was the only thing keeping him from me. I turned and ran. Ran through grasping hands as all around me the bleeders arose.
They were sluggish at first. Uncoordinated. But that didn't last long. Within a minute or so they were up and running. I saw my sanctuary. A Personal Heli-Car (PHC) floated in the street fifty yards or so from me, its engines still running. The driver lay in a heap below it, the head so crushed by the impact with the ground I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. The screams behind me became closer and closer. I didn't look back. I just ran. Beside the PHC was a rubbish truck, its rear bucket raised up. I could use its height to climb up to the PHC as the drivers door was still open. It seemed like a mile away. As I turned to look behind me I almost couldn't take in what I saw. Not only was I being chased by these bleeding maniacs, but even those drowned in burning jet fuel were running after me. I was lucky that the path infront of me was so clear. Most of those who arose from death were trapped inside their cars, like the cab driver, or too uncoordinated to make for me yet. As I passed by those on the street I could see them shrieking at me and clambering to their feet in pursuit. The flaming ghouls were setting any others near them alight, but it made no difference. They still came at the same pace. Before long the majority of those behind me were ablaze.
I was in Hell itself, a mass of screaming, flame covered demons chasing me down. I was at the rubbish truck and clambered up the slippery, stench ridden bucket, when I was set upon by a child. My God, it was a child. He gnashed at my feet. I grabbed a scrap of steel pipe from the rubbish around me and buried in the childs head. God forgive me. The little boy stopped. He seemed to die. Massive head trauma is the key. Destroy the brain. I continued up the bucket to the top and leapt for the PHC, arms reaching for be from below. I was inside and hit the accelerator. As I raced over the burning crowds below me I was in awe of the sheer numbers. They were everywere.... they were everywhere. The living were few and quickly consumed by the masses. I saw no one survive. Then I noticed. I was almost out of fuel.
I hear noises outside....I must go.