Free Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End by Manel Loureiro Page A

street. On the other end my street dead-ends at the embankment where the civil guardsmen and soldiers headed several nights ago. It’s steep, so I doubt any of those things can climb it. But I’m not 100 percent sure of that—one more unknown in my wonderful plan. I can see small groups of them wandering aimlessly on the main street. They don’t seem to find my street especially exciting. In the last two hours, a couple of monsters walked a few yards down my street but went back the other direction after a while.
    The soldier-monster is on the far side of the street, close to the embankment, swaying in the middle of the road. In additionto him and the six monsters with their backs to me, there are three women and one man, Thumper, who continues to haunt the house next door. One of the women is missing an arm and half her chest. She’s standing in front of my house, less than two yards from my door, staring at the wall. Nothing has changed in an hour and a half, so I’ve decided to act.
    I’ve racked my brain over what to wear. I don’t want those things to bite me or touch me. I don’t know if they sweat or if you can contract the virus through contact with their skin or their sweat. The sad truth is, I don’t know shit about them. I just know they’re dead, they’re aggressive, and they’re at my front door.
    After a lot of thought, I decided to wear my wetsuit. It’s superthick, top-grade neoprene—flexible and water resistant. I doubt they can bite through it. At most, I’ll get a bruise under that layer of neoprene. Plus, it’s completely smooth and thermo-sealed; there are no buttons or loose edges they could grab me by. It’s like a second skin. I wasn’t sure if I needed to cut the hood. It covers everything but my face, including my ears. Since it’s so thick, I can barely hear. I have to be able to hear those things coming up behind me. It also limits my peripheral vision.
    With a sigh I picked up the scissors and trimmed the hood. This baby cost me almost twelve hundred euros a year ago. I’ve taken it on many weekend dives, and now I’m destroying it. But what other choice do I have?
    Next, I put on winter gloves and tennis shoes because they’re flexible and—very important—quiet. I got a look at myself in the mirror. Jesus! I looked like some weirdo in my diving goggles, with the speargun and a handful of spears on my back. I don’t know if I’ll take down that soldier, but one look at me and he might die laughing. That is, if he has a sense of humor. Damn, I’m delirious!
    I also grabbed an old umbrella and tore off the fabric and all the spokes. It had a mean ivory handle that must’ve weighed a ton. It’ll do in a pinch.
    I’m trusting my life to a speargun and a broken umbrella...great!
    Time to get going. I’ll leave Lucullus in the backyard. If something happens to me, I hope he’ll have the sense to escape over the wall. My poor friend. He doesn’t deserve all this shit.
    Before I unlock the door, I pick up my secret weapon. My whole plan depends on a silly little toy I found when I was rummaging through a drawer. If it works, I’ll have a chance. If not, I’ll be really in big trouble.

ENTRY 36
January 28, 3:45 p.m.
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    Human beings are extremely complex. If you’d told me a month ago I’d be capable of what I did yesterday, I’d have laughed my ass off. And yet—I did it! And I’m still alive.
    After I got my wetsuit on, I opened the upstairs window a crack to get an overview of my street. I shoved the speargun out the window and propped it against the windowsill. I toyed with the idea of shooting the monsters from the safety of my roof. What a stupid idea! There was no way I could hit a target the size of a human head thirty yards away with a speargun, even if the spear hit the target with enough speed and strength. I had to keep in mind I only had six spears. Only six shots...
    I started laughing hysterically. I couldn’t help it. I was thinking about