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by Mr_Bama on Wed Apr 14, 2010 6:52 pm
It has been so long since all of this began, I figured it was time to start a journal. Well, my brother has decided to do the same so I guess now you will have two different point of views, interesting isn't it? Spotlights from the Helicopters never ceased pouring in to our windows as if we were the glass it decided to occupy, which shouldn't be something to complain about right? I mean helicopters search for the living. For the survivors, for people to rescue... Well in normal scenarios, yes, of course they were used for that very thing. Sadly though, this was not a normal scenario. Their search was not for the living, instead for the dead. They had given up searches for survivors. Now they were taking count of the infected individuals.
If they had a good enough report, well then, that meant they could destroy everything that was even close to being infected. Americans, we are too bomb happy sometimes. My hand searched my face, fuzz, I hated this. The last time I shaved? I can't remember, and the hair from my head is now too shaggy and long. This isn't even close to being my style, thankfully though, being on the run and scaveging for food has kept us both in shape, so we won't fall behind anytime soon to become zombie food. The last time I had a real decent shower? Well that wasn't something that was fresh in the memory bank either. I herd my brother talk, and then he began to nudge me.
"I'm just glad they can't climb yet."
For the first time in nearly three days, I actually looked out the window to observe. Of course my brother had a habit of saying things when he shouldn't, because they ended up occuring. Sure enough, when I looked down a zombie began to get a slight grasp and started to climb. It fell in a matter of seconds after starting, nothing to be worried about yet. "Man, look what you did. You jinxed us, now those zombies are going to become half monkey and climb up here to eat us. And we don't have any tea to greet them with! My God! And I havn't even shaved recently, I don't look the least bit presentable!" I couldn't help myself after that. I had to laugh, I had to make fun of myself and this situation.
I had to turn these scenarios in to my satire of the world. To laugh is to live, you can not keep all the stress, pain, and agony bottled up. Though we were safe for a limited time still, who knows how long which is why I used the word limited, our things needed to be packed. A different route needed to be found so we could head out and bunker down again. Did the military have any patrols that went around to kill anything that moved? It was possible, I guess so we had to be extra careful. "Let's go ahead and start getting ready. Sound good?"
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