October 4th
8:12am

A scream broke the silence of the morning and John lurched from his bed gasping heavily. Sunlight broke through the blinds of the windows as his heart beat loudly. His breaths were deep as he swallowed the morning breath that choked his throat. He moistened his lips before leaning over the edge and gripped the sides of his head. He ran his fingers through the shaggy locks before he steadied himself and leaned forward.

'Only a dream' he thought slowly as he stood up on shakey legs. It was so real. Vivid with the screams and blood that stained the streets and dream world. He walked to the windows and hesitated from pulling them away. He shook his head, trying to force his brain to acknowledge that what he had seen was a dream. John gripped the pull string and yanked it down. The zipping of the blinds didn't prepare him for the sight of the world beyond his apartment. Smoke trails threaded the downtown zone and surrounding areas, the streets were littered with debris and broken down cars with doors ajar.

Blood. That was the main colour that stained the grey concrete of the sidewalks and cars. So much of it everywhere John had to close the blinds and wreched before forcing his stomach contents back down. He rushed to the bathroom and spat out the acid taste that burned his mouth. He looked up slowly towards the mirror and stumbled back against the wall. His face, stained with blood was facing his shocked expression. What the fuck was going on!

October 3rd
1:32pm

John shouldered his bag over one shoulder and wrapped the scarf a little closer to his neck as a cold wind pressed against his skin. It was a dull afternoon after work for him as he left the pool. His hair chilled and became rigid with the weather after leaving the water not ten minutes before. The leaveshad left the trees and were being arranged in piles around his facility and area. The neighbourhood he lived in was quiet with a good crowd of people who knew him by name and face. John had worked at the pool for four years, two years after he finished his degree from University and still hadn't found his call in the real world of tall buildings and cubicles. He personally couldn't stand the isolation of a booth typing out senseless information for someone who made triple his pay and while the money for working in the real sector was more in line with his style of living he didn't want to leave the teaching environment.

He checked the pockets of his dark jeans to make sure he had his keys and whistle clipped inside before he pulled out his cell phone. Three texts and two phone calls. Probably the phone company trying to get him to pay for his cable bill that was long past due. He pulled the hood over his head as he put in the ear buds from his music player. His favourite band came on as he started the walk home. The brisk weather was something coming for a while after a long hot summer, and people who were still in denial were holding out with t-shirts and flip flops playing frisbee in the park John passed everyday. Music normally drowned out the world as he thought about what to do tonight, and all the paper work that was waiting for him at work tomorrow. It was then he heard a crash behind him. He jumped at the sound it was so close and his hairs on his neck bristled, the adrenaline rush pricked him across his body. A car alarm started blaring as he turned to see a car smashed into another with smoke trails leading from the engine. His mind shut off and he turned to experience and action. He ran over to the drivers side of a vehicle and pried the handle but the door was jammed. The occupant was unconscious with a small child in back screaming from behind her seat belt. John took a breath and slammed his elbow into the glass. Pain shot through his arm and the glass didn't break. Always in the movies it did but reality was a bitch. So was gravity as John grabbed a rock from a sidewalk garden and smashed the window to unlock the door. Sirens were in the distance but weren't getting closer. People were starting to gather around the crash, some taking pictures or videos and none helping John.

“Put down your fucking phone and help me douche” he shouted angrily with his eyebrows narrowed at one man with flip flops on.

Taken back for a moment, the man followed his orders and helped ease the woman out of the front seat before a scream drew Johns' eyes upwards. The driver of the other car pushed the door open and fell out. Something was wrong though. People were backing away from the cars and not moving to help. A rasping breath stuttered through the sound of the car alarm before the driver rose to his feet, blood visible from a smashed in face, eyes rolled back in his head and his limbs twitching before he took a stumbled step forward. One unlucky person approached with a jacket to cover him before he lurched forward and his jaws bit down on the mans arm.

It happened so fast, it felt like a blur to John. Blood shot out from the torn artery in spurts, the screams intensified even louder than the car alarm that had finally been shut off as people started running away. John grimaced as the driver who bit the man collapsed on top and started consuming his flesh, his hands tearing into the muscle tissue and pulling out chunks and changing hands with eat bite. Fear gripped John as he slowly stood up. 'Are we in a movie?' he thought as he looked around. No cameras and he would have heard of something like this being shot in the city. It was too realistic. No...it was happening. The cries from the man soon died and rasping breath followed. The driver stopped his consumption before rising again, looking ghastly and ackward as he stumbled towards John. The woman was still unconscious on the ground and the man who had died drew himself upwards, the look in his eyes the same as the drivers. John couldn't save the woman or the child screaming in the back of the car. He pushed the door shut, isolating her from the horrors of the world outside and started to drag the woman away from the pair of dead approaching. They were slow and they lost interest after they heard screaming from a side street and moved down towards the noise. He rested the woman against a wall. She was breathing and didn't have any head trauma. Probably just got surprised by the crash and she would come to eventually. He called 911 but couldn't get through. The lines were jammed up. It was like a movie, the first outbreak, police services tied up and he listened to the sky. Yeah, helicopters too. He switched his attention to more pressing concerns. His family and his friends. This woman would survive hopefully, and she could get to her child. He made the calls, couldn't get through to his family but left messages on their cell phones. He called his best friend but knew he was working downtown. He started texting, added everyone to the list and warned them that whatever they did, stay indoors and lock yourself in.

October 4th
8:31am

Water was still running in his apartment and John soaked his head under the tap. It was ice cold, even with the hot valve turned on full. He checked the lighting and nothing was turning on. What had happened to him last night was the question in his forebrain as he toweled off his hair and walked into his living room. He was alone in his apartment but it had changed since the day before. There was a rifle on his couch, two pistols and a duffel bag on his oak table. His front door barricaded with his fridge and chairs. John knew he couldn't have done that all by himself when he noticed his balcony door was open. Cold air chilled his apartment as he moved carefully to the curtains that blew in the wind. His balcony was stained with blood and he pulled himself back inside, afraid to look further. Someone must have gone over the edge, one of them? He was careful. He couldn't remember anything from the night before, who was with him if anyone. It was a blur in his mind and his head throbbed. His toes touched the cold concrete of the balcony, mindful to avoid the dried blood and crouched low. Moans, gasping breaths came from below him and through the railings he saw them. Stumbling and dragging their feet, arms limp at their sides and heads arched in ugly directions. Their lifeless eyes gazing to the heavens like chickens in rain, mouths spattered with blood and flesh, gapping for another taste of screaming warmth to flow.

John turned away. The smell hit him from the street below and he covered his mouth to avoid throwing up again. He should have been ok with this. He was a lifeguard. He had dealt with broken bones, and more blood than most aside from professionals. The smell of death was different. It ate at your senses and he would factor that in for the coming days or weeks if that smell was present to be prepared. He looked over the edge and saw a crumpled body just below his balcony on the sidewalk. He recognized the jacket and hair. It was one of his friend. He couldn't contain that thought and screamed out in anger and confusion.

October 3rd
3:46pm

“Yeah, you sure you're ok?” John asked as he pulled out a hoodie from his closet and set it on his bed.

“It's crazy! A guy stumbles into our front door and someone goes to check and bang. Blood everywhere” Pierre said as he took another swig of beer. “Took off as soon as that happened. I've seen too many movies where the brave die first”

John smiled as he pulled off his shirt and put the hoodie on. “I think it's the brave who live to fight another day”

The two had met up at John's apartment just after the first few attacks happened. It was spreading from the downtown area but Pierre was a fast runner. He left his bag at the office and came right over. He witnessed the madness on the streets first hand. It was hard to believe it was happening in their city.

“Shit like this happens elsewhere. Never at home. Like Japan or the UK. Not freaking Canada. We're peaceful and beaver loving folk” Pierre said as he leaned against the wall.

John looked to the window and the cries and screeching tires could still be heard, crashes and shattering glass were all around.

“We should probably hunker down for the next little while. Gather some information. I'm sure the internet already has a ton of stuff like this” John said.

Pierre turned the television on and switched it to the news. It wasn't good. It was happening across the world. Every country, city and town. It was incredible how quickly it spread. Images of police being over run by the masses spread even more panic as the pair sat on the couch drinking beer.

“You know I feel bad about this” John said.

“What do you mean? Not our necks getting bit”

John glanced down at the beer in his hand. The bottles condensation against his fingers. “I mean here we are in safety when people are out there dying”

“Nothing we can do about it. We need to keep ourselves safe and our families. Did you get ahold of your parents?”

John shook his head. “They are on an island in the Gulf. No reception but I left a message with the reception. Seems nothing has happened there yet so maybe it's isolated to the mainlands. Yours?”

“They're fine, at the house and locking their doors and boarding windows”

Gunshots outside made both of them jump and they rushed to the window. A cop car was parked out front and two officers were shooting at the stumbling corpses. Others were on the street helping and fighting with sticks, and bats. For a time they looked like they had the advantage, but then they came from the other side. Drawn by the noise. John and Pierre watched helplessly as they group out front was consumed and overwhelmed.

“That's why you don't go out” Pierre said. “They just come where noise is. Did you see how they moved? Alone they aren't a threat. When there are more than that they swarm you and take you out”

“It's horrible...unable to do anything but hide. We should scavenge after they are done”

“We'll wait a few hours, than go to ground. We need weapons though. I have a pair of Sai, a sword but really it's decorative...we also need to protect our skin. Hoodies and gloves, long sleeves and jackets”

“Alright, let's get started on it”

October 4th 6:27AM
It had been another long night.
The sun finally crept in over the houses and apartment buildings of Basildon to illuminate the blood darkened streets. It looked like something out of 28 Days Later. From the top floor of her house, Jessica Taylor could see the town centre had become a car-park with the occasional infected stumbling from one end to the other and back again, searching the cars for something to feast on with a blank stare on his face.
Jess pulled the blinds down again, the darkness felt like a welcome invitation to sleep but she couldn't. She knew she couldn't, especially while her house was as poorly defended as it was, it wouldn't take them long to get in through the single glazing windows that 'protected' her.
Quietly she made her way down the stairs and into the bathroom. The tub still full of water, Jess took a moment to wash her face down and consider her next move.
It was slowly becoming clear that she wouldn't be able to stay in her house. It was large, poorly equipped and didn't offer much except for a nightmare view of the town centre. The only thing keeping her here for the time being was the water she'd stockpiled and the food in her cupboards. But even that was slowly dwindling down to the long life food that tasted foul even during these times of horror.
After freshening up, Jess made her way down the the ground floor and went for the kitchen. After a short scan of cupboards she knew to be empty she looked to the fridge. Two cans of a soft drink called 'Dr Pepper' and a lump of cheese that was probably edible if you scrapped the mould off. It didn't take her long to decide against it. Her only other option would be to leave her house and search for supplies. Something the news-reader had warned against in the days leading up to this mess, "Stay inside, lock all your doors, wait for the all-clear." But she wasn't about to hang around. Between starving to death and being eaten by an infected her choices were already limited to death or death but at least the latter seemed pro-active.
So it was settled, as Jess gathered a back-pack and a basic survival kit she wondered if she was making the right choice but in reality, no-one had been prepared for the nightmare that had been the infection. In a few days she would come to regret the decision to not stay locked up at home, although unlike most others, Jess would be aware of her mistakes and try to learn from them. As long as she survived anyway.

October 3rd
5:45pm

It was getting darker now. The sun had dipped over the horizon to the west and the clouds bloomed shades of pinks and orange. It didn't mire the screams that echoed in the distance or the gunshots. The sounds of helicopters and planes. It was loud for such a view with John and Pierre bundled up on the balcony watching the dead move about. Three attempts had been made to get to the police vehicle, and all three had failed. Too much noise, and not keeping a closer eye on where the dead were had been their doom. Though their sacrifice would help the pair out in the end. The trunk was open and the front passenger door. The spinning red and blue lights were still on, running on the battery of the vehicle and gave a pretty good light source for when the pair would descend.

They put gloves on, neck warmers, scarves and jackets. They looked ridiculous all puffed out and stocky but it would keep them safe.

“Hold on Pierre. There is a fire hose in the hallway. We pull that out as a rope. A three story climb won't be difficult if we run into trouble”

“Good thinking”

October 3rd 5:51pm

Tied to Johns couch, the hose dangled just above the concrete ground over the balcony. They had spent time tying knots in the hose to give them better grip if they needed to climb fast, but they already figured one person would get to the vehicle, the other by the doors to keep them open.

Their hearts were pounding and they knew each other well enough to know they were scared. This was absolutely crazy! Zombies and the world ending. Especially in their city. Crap like that happens in Europe, or the least Africa. They could only assume it was happening everywhere and that was even more terrifying.

John tied the sword scabbard to his jackets belt and left first, knowing he would go to the car and Pierre would watch his back. They descended the three flights of stairs in silence, not trusting the elevator because they knew in every horror film if you took the elevator you were 90% likely to die. They approached the front doors and with painful steadiness they unlocked the latch on the inner security door to the foyer. The ground was slick with blood but they steadied themselves before taking a look to the world before them. There was about a dozen, maybe more just wandering about. Their arms were slacked and their feet were dragging with each step, heads flopping from side to side. John took a breath and gripped the handle of his sword tightly. The police car was about fifteen meters from the front door, but it could have been at the door it didn't matter if they got ahold of him.

“Good luck” Pierre said.

“Be back in a flash” John reassured. For who, he could only guess it was for him as he pressed into the cold. Their moans were louder than he thought as they scoured the street and side walk. He tried to keep his foot steps quiet with each step and was thankful there wasn't snow or ice on the ground to make noise. He reached the car without hazard and he felt triumphant in that before he turned around and a zombie was lumbering towards him. He pulled his sword and bit back the fear as he swung upwards, the blade dragging through the torn up chest into its head, splitting it apart before it collapsed backwards. All reason left him as the adrenaline took over. He grabbed the duffel bag in the trunk, felt the weight and threw the strap over his shoulder. His eyes were scattered as he dropped down to the half consumed officer on the ground and grabbed his gun and yanked on the clip pins that kept the strap secured over it. He pulled out the two magazines and pushed them into his pocket. He looked up as another zombie nearly fell on him.

He cried out in aggression as he pumped power into his legs and shoulder checked the zombie away from him and started running back. The sound brought them. They became alert as they attuned their ears for any sign of motion or struggle. Johns sword seperated the head from the torso of one who blocked his way and shouldered himself past two more before he reached the door and the two slammed it shut. The zombies converged and started to bang on the doors. The near complete glass barrier rattled and shook as the two backed towards the security door. It too was just glass and they realized that they had made a mistake.

“Fuck, we better get back upstairs” John said as he turned the key in the lock and the door buzzed open.

“Yeah, if your neighbours don't try and kill you first”

They took the stairs again, John readjusting the bag over his back. It was bulky and clumsy and he felt exhausted just thinking what he had just done. His sword was bloody but he felt incredible for surviving that. They bolted into John's apartment and locked it.

Seconds turned to minutes as their breathing slowed and John wiped the sweat from his forehead before taking off his protective layers down to his hoodie and jeans. Pierre did the same and put them beside the front door. “We should probably move stuff in front of your door for the time being”

“Fridge should do. I have an extension cable to keep it powered. Not going to let the food go bad” John replied.

The two moved the fridge from the kitchen up against the door before a banging was heard.

“Did you Fucks let them in!” a voice on the other side demanded, pounding their fists on the door. “You stupid assholes! We're all gonna die cause of you and if I turn you bitches will be on my list”

Screams were heard outside the apartment as the final glass shattered and the horde pulled in. It was going to be a long night for John and Pierre as they pulled the couch over and wedged it against the fridge and turned down the lights and didn't make a sound.

October 4th
9:12am

John washed his face again to try and get the memories out of his head. Not a full 24 hours had passed and he felt his building was empty or that the few who remained were just stupid. He had a plan though. He remembered talking with Pierre before he went down the fire hose to check in on his girlfriend back at their place. The duffel bag had great rewards and was treasured. Two C-7 assault rifles with two clips each and the ammunition to go along, then a riot shotgun with the shells and a bandolier. Including the Sig Sauer pistol and clips John had grabbed they had a fair amount of protection. He went into his kitchen and grabbed a bagel and munched on it. Trying to figure out the blank in his memory from the night and how things came to be before now.

October 3rd
9:40pm
John had handled shotguns when he worked up in Northern Quebec with the Native Cree and knew his way around them. The rifle was a little more trial and youtube videos, and while the pair had played more First Person Shooters than average it was the weight of holding the weapons their toons on the screen did that let reality set in.

“Take the rifle” John said. “If you're going to Meagan I'd rather you have something on you than nothing”

Pierre took hold of it and looked through the scope. “Kind of like Modern Warfare 3. Should be simple enough and we know the basic principles of shooting”

“I want to come” John said as he loaded ammunition into the magazines. He wasn't one to break the group up, even if it was the pair so far”

“I move faster alone, and I have my cell. I'll text you when I get there. What's the plan?”

John checked the strap of the second rifle and shouldered it to get used to the weight. “Remember when we watched those zombie movies and made that plan for the children's hospital?”

“Yeah. Have to wait out 7 days before we go right?” Pierre recalled, “Meet at the school next to it by the football field. 9Am and 3Pm. Wait twenty minutes than seek shelter again. We'll see you there”

John headed to the balcony and looked over. The dead weren't so much outside as they were inside. “You going to run the 12 kilometers to your place?” he asked.

“I'll take the cop car. Better to use that than run. If worse comes to worse I can ditch it and go on foot. I can also hear what the radio has to say”

“Good luck” John added with an attempt at being brave. He was scared. More for his friend than being left alone. 7 days alone is a long time, and he had to worry about so many. His phone had been going off all night with texts and he told everyone the plan. Get to the hospital, to trust him and hold out for 7 days no matter the price.

John and Pierre walked to the balcony and Pierre pulled on his jacket. “See you in a few days. Keep in touch”

He pulled himself over the side and descended to the ground. His feet touched and he got to the police car. Door shut and the vehicle pulled away to leave John alone in his apartment. He heard more screams from the floors above and he saw several streams of blood running down the sides of the building. The cold air was getting to him and he pulled inside to make tea.

He looked at his cell and saw more messages but then there was a blank.

October 4
9:20am
John knew what followed. His other friend Dan had climbed the fire hose and was at his balcony door. He was injured. Bleeding from his arm he was holding. He was delirious, and frightened but John already knew what had to come. He didn't know the infections turn rate, but zombies always were different in all the genres.

His friend realized that and only wanted to say good bye. He then jumped himself. It was a painful memory to relieve and it all ended with a strong hug before he left. He shrugged away the memory. No more could he think about the past. Every moment alive now was a blessing and he had the living to look after. 6 days now he would take off towards the hospital. He had a few texts that morning. Pierre had made it safetly to his place and Meagan was alright. John didn't have a significant other, the most recently broken up was a girl who left him to travel home because she couldn't find work. It may have been across the country, but it felt much further.

He changed and looked towards the things he would need. He didn't want to stay in the apartment, but going to the streets the day after the world began to end was just as dangerous that going mad inside. He also needed food. His reserves were pretty pathetic. “Tomorrow was payday too. I wonder if the City will process my money” he spoke to himself. It was his way of keeping occupied. Talking kept his mind off the silence. “Food, guns, clothes, and we'll go” he recited as he grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured a glass. “Maybe find a cute girl to rescue. Never know”

October 4th
1:53PM

They were too loud. Jess tried to block out the moans as she swung her the heavy metal bat a third time, caving in the skull of another infected.
She hadn't come across any survivors in her time wondering around the town centre, most of the shops had been broken into for food or decorative weapons such as swords and knives. Not much remained in the town now, most of the people had taken what they'd needed and left. Or been turned.
Pulling herself up onto one of the awnings that overhung the outside of one of the smaller shops, Jess could see the infected having a hard time climbing to her level and used it to her advantage. The awning ran along most of the shops and almost acted as a balcony for some offices.
During the day, Jess had learnt that being quiet in the apocalypse wasn't the easiest thing. A fact re-affirmed when she swung her bat into one of the single-glazed windows, setting off the stores alarm.
The horde almost turned as one before rushing, en mass, for the ground floor shop.
Jess hastened, pulling herself through the shattered glass and into the office that once housed an insurance firm. The sounds of the dead drowning out the occasional ringing phone as she searched the place.
The fridge contained a variety of equally poor-tasting drinks and some chocolate bars. It only took a second to grab together the supplies and secure them in her bag before she made her way for the door.
Something tugged her back, a feeling in her stomach almost like a knot, stopped her as she reached for the handle. It had been fear, the horde were inside and making their way up through the building.

Jess wasted no time, frantically her eyes searched the room for another exit, another way out that would put her back on the right track. Her only salvation came from a door at the opposite end of the office with faded lettering on it. As she made her way over, the foot-steps in the hallway became frantic, almost like a run as they approached the office. It was almost as if they knew their prey was inside.
Jess pulled the door open to reveal a dark storage closet filled with boxes.
More out of fear than sense, she pushed herself inside the dark space and pulled the door shut, locking it from the inside. Seconds later and the flimsy office door had been put through. Jess could smell the putrid stink as they spread into the office looking for her.

Using the torch on her phone, Jess discovered a small grate at the back of the supply cupboard big enough to fit in. Unfortunately it was covered over and looked pretty firm in place. That was until she studied the boxes in the cupboard, one of which was marked "confiscated."

The horde had filled the room next door and were almost on her when an almighty clunking of heavy metal filled the place. Two more loud smashes and the vent had fallen free.
Jess, now armed with a crow-bar, dived in the vent, pulling a box in behind her to slow them down. She'd needed to at-least, the horde were almost at her ankles as she made her escape.

October 4th
9:45am

John steadied his nerves as he pulled a hoodie over his head and grabbed his leather jacket and zipped it up. It gave him an impressive figure as he looked himself over in the mirror. He grabbed his sword and tied the straps to his belt and felt for how much effort it would take to pull it from the sheath at a moments notice. He clipped the pistol to his right side and bent his knees to stop the shaking from getting the better of him.

He walked onto his balcony and looked down. The dead were scattered around the street, fresh blood and bodies were scattered, some half devoured and others with missing limbs. John pulled himself back in and closed the door. He picked up a back pack he used for hiking and snowboarding. It conformed to his back and had additional straps to keep it from moving around. He packed two granola bars, an apple and two bottles of water. He shouldered and did up the straps. He took in a breath, worried of what the hallway would have in store for him. He pulled the couch away and looked through the small peep hole in his door. The walls were bloodied, but there was no movement he could see. His heart pounded in his chest as he unlocked the latch with a faint click and pulled the door open to a point the chain lock became straight. He wasn't foolish enough to undo both. A zombie could probably overpower the door and he'd be dead. Not the best way to die and he wanted to live. He took out his phone and snapped pictures left and right.

There were no walking dead he could see. He had to move quickly. He unlocked the final barrier to his safety and slipped out. He locked the door behind him to see the scratches against his door. A shudder coursed through his body before he headed to the staircase. He undid the latch to the holster and pulled the pistol. He checked the safety and descended. No opposition till he reached the outside through the foyer. No need for the door, the glass had been shattered and the edges coated in blood. He stepped through and onto the street to crouch down next to the gardens out in front of his building. There were two stores with food close by and drink. He wondered how much would be left and they were most likely pillaged. He kept low, pistol in hand as he headed to the one across the street. Blood covered the door way and he could see the shelves had been toppled over with plenty of food scattered around. He grabbed some cans of food, bread and a case of Red Bull. He stored it in his bag when he heard a soft moan from behind. He turned slowly to see a walker bump into the stairs and stumble through the door. The gun would draw attention and John gently slipped it back into the holster and gripped the sword. He was frightened as he pulled the blade but didn't move. He watched how it moved, its struggles and its direction. He picked up a can off the ground of creamed corn and tossed it to the other side of the store.

It moved so quickly. Changing from a stumbling mess to a being possessed with a desire to kill. It hit the counter and scrambled over. John made a break for it out onto the street with a heavier pack than before he saw other humans now exiting the safety of their homes in an assortment of protection with weapons cobbled together, even the crazy red neck that lived down the street had a frying pan in his hand, a knife in the other. His long beard wavered in the wind. He looked delightfully funny if the situation was anything but zombies.

He didn't know anyone that he saw until he noticed a sound. Banging. Someone close by was banging and drawing the dead to the sound.

"Fucking idiots" John thought as he picked up his pace, passing by people that had fear in their eyes as he pushed through the foyer doors of his building and climbed the stairs. He wasn't going to be out in the streets now. Others would flee, run for their friends. He just had to hold out. His phone was buzzing with messages when he got back into his apartment and locked the door and barricaded the door to hear the first screams outside of the day.

He counted his extra supplies, enough for three days if he rationed it. He would go out again at dawn. For now he would research and figure out what was being done with. Scuffling was outside his door as he strained his ears. Again there was banging, people trying to get in, and the sounds of fear and terror. He rubbed his forehead and started to run through messages and responding.