February 8th

Posted: February 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

Dear journal,

I feel better today, which I attribute to the long night of sleep I was able to get before a rather loud, persistent knock on the front door made me get out of my nest to investigate. I’m surprised I didn’t hear the mayhem in the street before the knocking woke me. I peeked out the window to a scene of madness – people running up the street, some bloodied, some screaming, with a horde of zombies about half a block down the street from my house. A panicked Andrew was outside my door, complete with bloody baseball bat.

“Miriam, let me in, please, before they catch up!”

Scanning the street to make sure no one was looking, I quickly let him in and relocked the door. I didn’t want to draw attention to my door, in case the zombie group zoned in on our movement and decided to target my door.

I had to stop Andrew from shouting about what he had just seen – any noise could draw them to us, which would be far from ideal. I made sure the curtains were drawn around the house as he loudly whispered that there must be at least 20 zombies outside – not counting the few he had brained with his bat while running away from them. He’d been on a break from work and had just left the diner when the hoard descended, meaning the breach must be relatively close to my neighbourhood.

The line was busy when I tried to call The Council to report the breach, which must have meant that someone was already reporting it. All we could do was triple check all the locks and curtains, then settle into the living room with the lights off, and wait to hear signs that either the zombies have passed or the Recovery Team has arrived. I chanced making a pot of tea, being extra careful around the window from the last time Andrew was present for an attack. I reminded Andrew that he probably wanted to give his work a call to let them know he wasn’t going to be back for a while. I guess he’s not as used to calling into work with a case of the zombie attack as people who grew up around here are.

I told him that if he was going to visit, he needed to stop bringing zombies with him. This seemed to lighten the mood – or it could have been the shouts we heard outside of the Recovery Team wrangling zombies. I always feel immediately better when I hear the team has taken over the situation.

A member of the team came to the door about an hour later to see if there were any injuries, or make sure we were aware of the situation, and to let us know that the street should be cleared of the threat within another hour’s time. I told Andrew to feel free to grab something to eat if he wanted, and wandered to my future office to start bagging more junk to put out on the curb. It wasn’t long until Andrew was at my side, asking what he could do to help. I decided to sort the items and toss them to him so he could be them in the “keep” or “toss” piles/bags. This made sorting much quicker, and we were able to get another 5 bags of garbage ready for the curb before I ran out of garbage bags. It wasn’t until I remarked that I would almost like to go for a nap that Andrew pointed out I was dressed for one; one does not have time to get changed out of jammies when there are gaggles of zombies in the street.



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