We have a new place, now: a two-story apartment builing with locking back and front doors with windows reinforced by metal mesh. We have selected one aparement for our base. It's closest to a second story window in case of the need for escape. It also has a stock of rice and dried beans.
My boyfriend, Mike, and I, Melissa, had things well under control. We were both at home when the first tidal wave of zombies hit, but, as we live in Southern Illinois, and used to live in a far-out farmhouse, we were pretty well safe. We had a full garden of cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, and cantaloupes. We even had some chickens to raise. We both worked at the University and liked our little home away from the kids in the city.
We did raise some barbed wire and put more lights outside for safety. And Mike boarded up all the first-floor windows, just in case. We also reinforced the front and back doors with metal bars across the top and bottom that fitted into slits. Things were looking well. We were safe and had food and had only seen a couple of passing zombies.
I was worried about my family and friends as we had no contact with them since the outbreak, but from where we were, there was not much we could do. We had only one tank of gasoline for our jeep and only wanted to keep it for emergencies. We had heard on our transistor radio that gas stations had run dry.
Today, though, everything changed. A group of armed humans took us while I was gathering in the garden. A man grabbed me from behind and showed me he had a gun. The man took me by the hair and dragged me to the front door and demanded it be opened. Mike and I would act as look-outs for the other, and would lock the door behind the other whenever we had to go outside. Mike quickly unlocked the door now when he saw, through a small window beside the door, how the the man put the gun to my head. Then the man, two others, and a woman, all strapped with guns and ammo clips, strided inside, giving last looks around them before locking the door again.
"What do you got for food here, gas, ammo?" asked the man who had finally let me go. I rubbed my head where it was sore. Mike held me.
"Who the hell do you think you are coming in here like this?" demanded Mike.
The man in charge motioned and the two other men grabbed Mike. The leader got real close to Mike's face. "I said, what do you got for supplies here?"
"Look, we have enough here for everyone. There's extra rooms. There's no need for violence."
All four of them laughed. "You been outside, man? There's only the need for violence," said the leader. "Now tell me what you got going on here or I'm gonna blow your brains out. And, then, I'm gonna have a little fun with your girl here." The man leered at me and I shivered with disgust. How were we going to get out of here?
"Look, I'll tell you anything you want, give you anything, just let us go. Okay?"
"That's all I wanted."
So Mike told the man about the garden, and the preserves, and the lights, barbed wire, and chickens.
They let us grab knives to arm ourselves and then shoved us out our front door. "Be careful out there," they taunted. "We think some might have followed us!" And then they laughed.
We began to walk. Mike started toward the garage, to the jeep. He hadn't told them about that.
I grabbed his arm. "No," I said. "Then they'll know. We'll circle back around and go into the garage from the back."
Mike nodded. "I love you."
"I love you, too. We gotta get out of here."
"Yeah. Something probably did follow those guys."
We walked to the end of the long drive, and then cut into a field with long grass and to the back of our garage. Mike eased me into a window of the dark garage and then climbed in himself.
"The keys!" I said.
Mike smiled and patted his pocket. I felt relief.
Then we heard a clang.
"What was that?" I whispered.
"I don't know." Mike started slowly toward the noise, his knife drawn. I followed. We hadn't had to kill anything yet.
Mike crouched and kept on forward, moving around our dark blue jeep. A man lay on the ground, blood-covered.
Mike knelt toward him, reaching out a hand.
"No!" I grabbed his arm back and the zombie roared up to bite us.
I screamed and Mike pushed the zombie back. The zombie fell back a few feet and then came at us, grappling with Mike. I pulled my knife from my back pocket and lunged, stabbing the creature in the head. He grunted a noise and fell back. Mike stumbled in relief and uncertainty. I grabbed my knife from the zombie's head and wiped it off with a rag that was lying on the workbench.
"Come on!" I said. They might have heard that. Let's go!"
Mike paused for a moment but then saw movement from the farmhouse out the side window. They were coming.
We jumped into the Jeep and Mike started the engine. We pushed the garage door opener and got out of there, leaving our enemies behind. They raised their guns at one point but didn't shoot. We peeled out onto the road and kept driving, thankful we didn't have many neighbors to clutter up the road. We started toward town, toward the main campus, toward more people, and more zombies. We were going to Carbondale.
We had a few more struggles with the undead along the way. We managed to run over two and Mike stabbed one and then crushed the undead's head with a rock. We ran out of gas on the edge of town and have walked the rest of the way to this apartment building. It was the only place we could find that still had food. That led us to late afternoon.
It's our first night here and we have no weapons except our knives. I hope and pray we find something
I dont know how long we can survive.