Zombie Journal #1: Remembering the Day Chpter 4

Chapter 4: The Better of the Hells

Depression is a word that I wouldn’t use for this situation. I don’t think there is a word for the feeling of eternal damnation in a world where there is no Heaven or Hell, where the two combatants are not angels and demons, but two demons from two different Hells; one a Hell where you fight for food, and one where you fight to prevent becoming food; not only the battle for survival, but the battle to keep up with life wherever it may throw you; which in this case, life as thrown you to the lions. Watching people tear through each other for supplies was that one point where I realized that everything the world was different. There were no families anymore, no girlfriends, and no friends; maybe, just maybe, you had a tribe, but somehow that isn’t the same as a family. You would think from what you read that a tribe would be the exact thing of a family, but only when you actually live in a tribe do you understand that you are still on your own. This “shelter” was a tribe.
This was the Church of Christ, shelter number 441; “One of the best strategic mass population housing facilities.” The government was always one of empty promises, but this was pathetic. They hardly reached out to us. From what I hear from the other people that are “surviving” here, the drop of supplies had things that was supposed to last for about a month, along with instructions for the leading government official, which of whom wasn’t around; a lot of them figured there was either no such thing or if there was a leader, he never made it out of the initial infection. To me, this shelter was a symbol of how the world was turning. The beauty of a church, torn away by bloodshed, anger, people desperate to survive, and a want to be safe and live life like nothing ever happened. It was sad to think of the world as one of self annihilation, but that is what it was; the truth always hurts when you don’t want to admit it.
After about a week, the supplies were low again; the people of the shelter knew nothing about surviving. I still didn’t trust people, and something in my brain just told me to save things. It was odd, but something told me that saving the little rations I got from everybody would raise my chances of surviving more than it is now. I also still didn’t trust people; watching them tear through each other like that to get to the supply crate didn’t help either. Nothing really happened at the shelter, people got into fights, zombies tried to get in a couple of times, but there was somebody that came with a lot of things, looked like a salesman. I thought it was weird to be selling stuff in a world where a dollar wasn’t even worth a cent, which also worth nothing. “The world may have went to Hell, kid, but there is always a way to buy things.” He started talking more about how he’s the kind of guy to take advantage of what people have and what people need. He told me stories about how he was the guy in the middle of the chaos, bringing salvation to the people that needed things that they couldn’t wait for. I thought it was amazing how everything just started last week, and people were starting to need help.
I looked at what he had; it consisted of canned foods, some fruit that looked to be about a week old, and something that caught my eye, a Japanese style katana sword. “Interested in the sword, huh? Lucky for you, I’ve just found it outside next to a tree. Somebody must have dropped it while being dinner for your neighbors. If you want it, I‘ll trade you something.” Of course, knowing my luck, I would have to barter for something that was mine to begin with. I didn’t have much of anything except rations and small things the other people gave me. He decided to “take it easy” on me. He would give me the sword for two rations, which was all I had, and flint for fire. The way I saw it, if I wanted to get out of that Hell-hole, it would be better to have a way of defending myself; I have reason to believe throwing rations at zombies won’t distract them. I gave him what he wanted, and he packed his new items into his bag. “The name’s Steven. I have a feeling you’re going to go out into the wild, am I right?” I thought it was a no-brainer, but I answered as nicely as I could. He looked me over for a few seconds and told me not to head out just yet, that he was leaving the next morning and could use the help. I agreed and I brought him to where I was staying. It was late at the time so we started a fire and shared a ration. There, I heard more stories about what was happening in other parts of the region.
Apparently, walking around to other shelters wasn’t originally his plan. Like me, he was forced to kill the people around him and run. I managed to make it to a shelter; it was fresh and stocked. As people began to flock in, internal infection started to spread. Somebody from the outside was infected and turned the first night. It was a devastating blow to the shelter. People stared to panic and tried to tear down their only defense; they managed to break the wall and run. Steven and a couple other guys stayed and protected what they had left. After they killed the last infected in the shelter, they realized that security wasn’t there anymore, so they grabbed whatever they could carry and left. They all went their separate ways. Steven dropped by one shelter before he came to ours, there he found ho desperate people were. He had fresh supplies at the time, and people had what he needed and he had what they needed, and that’s when he saw a chance to help out himself and everybody else. He stayed there for a bit and decided to move on, and then he was there.
After we finished our ration, he told me to get some sleep while he talked to everybody else and see if he could barter some more stuff. He was used to doing things after a sleepless night, but he wanted me to have as much energy as I could store. The next morning, I’ll be out of that place they called a “shelter.” I’m not completely sure what I’ll be doing after I get out. Joining Steven is starting to sound like my best bet. I would have to wait and hope that everything will be better by morning. Sleep came slowly, and then I was lost in a darkness that haunts me every time I closed my eyes, ever since my birthday.


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Again copywright =P NO STEALING!