a sleeve and wondered sadly where he was now.
Suddenly, with a dull little thud, something dropped from behind the picture. Judy jumped in shock. The very real danger of a zombie attack had honed her startle response to a sharp edge. Bending, she picked up a small booklet. It appeared to be in good condition. A journal of some kind. Looking once more apprehensively at the door, she wandered to the hallway and climbed the stairs. After a quick once over, she found the rest of the place unoccupied. Sitting in an intact armchair upstairs overlooking the lake, she opened the book and started to read…
Not exactly sure of the date, but I guess around January 1, 2017
I remember the end of the world like I remember a bad dream from a few nights ago. I know how it made me feel, but the details are fuzzy. I couldn’t tell you now how it even happened. Something about some pills or terrorists. Don’t blame me for not remembering though, that was five years ago and I was still a kid. I’m nineteen now, with a family to take care of. My name’s Zac , if that even matters.
Hell, it’s been six months since anybody around here has even seen a zombie.
We don’t worry so much about them anymore. They run out of energy pretty fast and there aren’t many mobs like there used to be. No one ever really got things back under control. The zombie apocalypse sort of ran its course like a common cold. A highly contagious, violent common cold.
The thing I miss most is electricity. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my parents and my friends. I had a better relationship with my Xbox, though. I remember Mom and Dad fought a lot. I’m pretty sure they signed divorce papers right before everything changed.
I wasn’t popular. I had a few friends and they were good friends. I don’t think any of them survived. We were excited about starting high school. Now, I can’t even get a GED.
That’s all gone now. No more all-night Halo sessions or midnight Friday the 13 th marathons. No more microwaved corndogs, no hot showers, no night lights. I can’t believe I used to sleep with a night light. That was before there were real monsters hiding in the dark.
On the positive side, no more drunken arguments or sleepovers at Aunt Liz’s when Dad really got bad. Some say I don’t have any feelings, that I’m as emotionless as the ever consuming dead. I say I lost my parents long before the rest of the world went away. I say my attitude, my lack of emotions, kept me alive.
That changed though, like everything changed.
Now, I’m the responsible one. I have a family. I don’t drink (not that there’s anything to drink except water). We don’t fight. We’re happy to be alive, although the world doesn’t seem too happy to have us.
January 9 th -ish
Oh, I met a girl. That’s who I mean when I say “we”. I’m going to try to write in this journal at least once a week. We’ll see how that goes. Today, I’m going to write about Liz. That’s her name, same as my aunt. We’ve been together almost three years now. I’m glad I found her, saved her. I didn’t want to be alone, like Matthew.
Matthew lives two doors down. I think he used to be a famous author, but I never heard of him. All the same, I tell my kids to stay away from him. A lot of people, survivors, went crazy, too much shock. You don’t know about some people these days. I think we’re in good company otherwise. With the exception of Matthew, everybody else here seems normal enough.
January 20 th
My kids.
Before this happened, I barely started imagining what it would be like to see a girl’s bra. Now, through no fault of my own, I have two girls. Gladys and Holly. After I found Liz hiding in a bank vault, we came across the girls in their elementary school cafeteria, eating melted fruit cups. I am still amazed how two eight-year-olds proved more resilient than a school full of teachers. Holly still doesn’t talk though. Gladys says she used to get in
Suddenly, with a dull little thud, something dropped from behind the picture. Judy jumped in shock. The very real danger of a zombie attack had honed her startle response to a sharp edge. Bending, she picked up a small booklet. It appeared to be in good condition. A journal of some kind. Looking once more apprehensively at the door, she wandered to the hallway and climbed the stairs. After a quick once over, she found the rest of the place unoccupied. Sitting in an intact armchair upstairs overlooking the lake, she opened the book and started to read…
Not exactly sure of the date, but I guess around January 1, 2017
I remember the end of the world like I remember a bad dream from a few nights ago. I know how it made me feel, but the details are fuzzy. I couldn’t tell you now how it even happened. Something about some pills or terrorists. Don’t blame me for not remembering though, that was five years ago and I was still a kid. I’m nineteen now, with a family to take care of. My name’s Zac , if that even matters.
Hell, it’s been six months since anybody around here has even seen a zombie.
We don’t worry so much about them anymore. They run out of energy pretty fast and there aren’t many mobs like there used to be. No one ever really got things back under control. The zombie apocalypse sort of ran its course like a common cold. A highly contagious, violent common cold.
The thing I miss most is electricity. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my parents and my friends. I had a better relationship with my Xbox, though. I remember Mom and Dad fought a lot. I’m pretty sure they signed divorce papers right before everything changed.
I wasn’t popular. I had a few friends and they were good friends. I don’t think any of them survived. We were excited about starting high school. Now, I can’t even get a GED.
That’s all gone now. No more all-night Halo sessions or midnight Friday the 13 th marathons. No more microwaved corndogs, no hot showers, no night lights. I can’t believe I used to sleep with a night light. That was before there were real monsters hiding in the dark.
On the positive side, no more drunken arguments or sleepovers at Aunt Liz’s when Dad really got bad. Some say I don’t have any feelings, that I’m as emotionless as the ever consuming dead. I say I lost my parents long before the rest of the world went away. I say my attitude, my lack of emotions, kept me alive.
That changed though, like everything changed.
Now, I’m the responsible one. I have a family. I don’t drink (not that there’s anything to drink except water). We don’t fight. We’re happy to be alive, although the world doesn’t seem too happy to have us.
January 9 th -ish
Oh, I met a girl. That’s who I mean when I say “we”. I’m going to try to write in this journal at least once a week. We’ll see how that goes. Today, I’m going to write about Liz. That’s her name, same as my aunt. We’ve been together almost three years now. I’m glad I found her, saved her. I didn’t want to be alone, like Matthew.
Matthew lives two doors down. I think he used to be a famous author, but I never heard of him. All the same, I tell my kids to stay away from him. A lot of people, survivors, went crazy, too much shock. You don’t know about some people these days. I think we’re in good company otherwise. With the exception of Matthew, everybody else here seems normal enough.
January 20 th
My kids.
Before this happened, I barely started imagining what it would be like to see a girl’s bra. Now, through no fault of my own, I have two girls. Gladys and Holly. After I found Liz hiding in a bank vault, we came across the girls in their elementary school cafeteria, eating melted fruit cups. I am still amazed how two eight-year-olds proved more resilient than a school full of teachers. Holly still doesn’t talk though. Gladys says she used to get in
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