


Diary

by Alchemybabe13



Category: Zombie Survival Guide
Genre: Adventure, Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-08-05
Updated: 2009-08-05
Packaged: 2013-09-13 23:09:03
Rating: M
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5279587/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/943541/Alchemybabe13
Summary: Years after the outbreak, a diary was found.





	Diary

_AN: Hello people. I sorta fell out of my anime phase, but still love to write. I'm obsessed with zombies, so I figured I'd write something about them. This is my attempt. Read and review if you will! :D_

Day 1

I'm not even sure of the date anymore. I found this in a drug store I raided for food. I figure I have nothing better to do then chronicle this. My name is Damien. I'm 22. Before the outbreak I was a Infantry Unit Leader in the Marine Corps. I'm alone.

Day 2

Yesterday was cut short. I heard some of them breaking through my enforced perimeter. I had to fortify it some more. I know I can't stay here much longer, but I don't know right now where else to go. Cars are useless now. I move at night to avoid detection, at least I will until my NVG's (Night Vision Goggles) die. They are everywhere. I'm sure we've been overrun. While I don't doubt there are survivors, we are extremely outnumbered. Right now I'm bunkered down in a civilian home outside the base. It's fairly sturdy, but if any more of those bastards come, I'm done for. They are attracted to noise, apparently, and move quickly. But one head shot will do it. I stock piled some weapons and ammunition along with what I already had when things started getting hairy. I remember the day the shit hit the fan. It was a Tuesday. Just like any other day. Hot as Hell here in Yuma, AZ. The middle of the summer. I was at work, shooting shit with the guys when our CO tells us to shut up and listen to the radio. Some weirdo shit was going on in China. People dying, then getting back up, but being all freaky and shit. Like they weren't human anymore. Bad thing was is that it was spreading, and they couldn't stop it. We listened as reports started to come in from all over. Russia was next. Then Turkey, then Germany, then the U.K. Then, the northeast of the U.S. By then we had gotten the hint. This thing was spreading, and fast. The base became locked down. Radio stations became harder to come by. Most of them just Evangelical shit about the apocalypse. One had some self proclaimed "specialist". He said that it wasn't airborne, but spread through fluid contact. Like if you let the fuckers bite you. I laughed and thought who would let one of them get that close. A couple of my buddies and I decided there was safety in numbers. We were sort of uneasy, but we knew we'd be good. A couple of Marines, right? We are cocky bastards that's for sure. The thing was getting closer. We were assigned to posts to help defend the base. We knew where each of us were, should we need to regroup and form our own posse of sorts. I was put in the rifleman team on the wall, barrier they called it, at the entrance to the base. Corporal Smith was on perimeter patrol, as the only thing protecting the rest of the base from attack was a chain link fence. Private Danser was assigned to quartermaster duty, handing weapons out and shit. And Private Long was on a sniper team dispatched to one of the other entrances to the base. We never expecte

Day 5

Had to get up and move. Fuckers broke through my wall, way beyond repair. I escaped, but scraped the shit out of my knee. I moved back on base, a little more fortifiable. I wish I could find some kind of bunker or something and just wait it out...But who the hell knows how long that might take. I barely made it. Those guys are fast, but clumsy as hell. I could easily navigate the woods, but them...they were tripping over logs and rocks and shit. Dumb asses. I'm in some command center, must have been a classified building, there's hardly any windows, and the front door is solid steel. It's nice for cover, but I've got no food now. I'll have to run out to the base commissary to see if I can scavenge some stuff later tonight.

Day 6

Went out to scavenge last night. I didn't have any idea that I would find this. A girl, pregnant. She was hiding in an office in the commissary. She was clutching a small handgun. A .10mm. I asked her if she was bit. She just shook her head. She's real screwed up. Won't talk to me at all. Her magazine was empty, so I assume she took care of some of them. I put some extra food in my pack for her, though I'll have to do some more late night scavenges to keep up food for two of us. More like three. She's not far along. Four maybe five months. I'm trying to be friendly, make sure she knows she's safe, but she must have seen something awful to clam up like this. She's barely eaten anything, and hasn't drank anything. She's small, can't be more than 21. I keep asking her name, but either she doesn't trust me, or she just can't talk anymore. I saw guys come back from the war like that. Post traumatic stress disorder they call it. Get flashbacks about what they went through. Don't talk, act all weird to their family. Usually they'd talk to a shrink. I'm no shrink, so I don't know what to say to help her. Maybe time will help. I think I'm gonna set up a bed for her, then hit the sack myself.

Day 7

Her name is Kylie. She was traveling with three people. Her boyfriend, his friend and his friends mother. The mother fell behind, got devoured. They were running from a group of them. Her boyfriends friend broke his ankle jumping off a building while scouting. They left him behind. And after holeing up in a tree house for a week, running out of food and being surrounded by them day and night, her boyfriend decided to sacrifice himself so she could get away. He gave her his gun and jumped down, running and making them follow him until they caught him. She found the base and thought it would be safe, but soon learned wrong. She hid in the commisary. She had been there three days when I found her. Today she drank some water, she was seriously dehydrated. She describes herself as a "good shot", but I'll believe it when I see it. If I see it. My weapons supply is depleted since I had to leave the house off base in a hurry. I have an M-16 and a shitload of ammo for it, and a generic assault rifle, and some ammo for it. She wants to keep her little .10mm, so when I get around to the armory here, I'll pick up some ammo for it.


End file.
