Scrapbook Entry #2

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ZombieAccount.docx

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3rd January 2009
Detective, Senior Plodd
Criminal Investigation Unit
**** Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington, DC *****


San Diego Police Dept,
Eye witness report to ‘****** **********.’
05 October 2007
Witness # 176, File #283D267
Confidential
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Case Number: VT 05/10/07/3462

Incident: Other

Reporting Officer: ********* Ivan

Date of Report: 05 October 2007

At about 1040 hours on 5th October 2007, I met with Mr. Alex Price at **** South ******* Drive regarding a burglary in progress. When Mr. Price called the San Diego Police Department he told the operator, Ms. Shirley Kingston, of two men trying to break into his home while he was still inside. Ms. Kingston said that when she received the call, Mr. Price was frantic and obviously shaken.

After several minutes of staying on the line with the operator, Mr. Price dropped the phone and was then heard in a struggle until the line went dead.

I conducted a survey of the crime scene and found a door with broken hinges and dirt inside the living area leading into the kitchen. On the stoop leading into the house there were noticeable drops of blood. I saw no broken glass in the area, and there was no sign of any trauma to Mr. Price although he was slightly covered in fresh blood. Upon closer inspection by the nurse, I have come to the conclusion that the blood found on the scene was not his.

I obtained a sworn statement from Mr. Price and provided him with the case number and Information Leaflet 99/07 ("What to do in case of a break in"). I entered the damage and statement into the station database as ‘other’ as we do not have a department for Mr. Pines following statement. I also searched the area with Mr. Pine inside the patrol car and found numerous homes in a similar manner. The streets were covered by unidentified men and women randomly attacking others for no apparent reason. The threat was too great and decided that heading back to the station to keep Mr. Pine safe was the best decision thus far.

The following statement was made by Mr. Pine shortly after arriving in the hands of the S.D.P.D., at exactly 1115 hours and submitted for the department’s confidential registry.

Report as follows:

It was probably around ten in the morning and I was getting ready to begin my English class over at Southwestern Community College. I was just out of the shower when I flipped on the television screen in my room to Channel 9 news, getting my daily dose of local headlines circulating the city. I wasn’t paying attention to what they were talking about but looking back I wish I had. My mind was preoccupied with the midterm we’d be having later that day and preparing for a way to take it as I hadn’t studied much beforehand. I pulled on a pair of briefs and sat down on the foot of the bed, one ear on the TV and the other on my iPod still humming quietly from the night before. The room was still dark as I hadn’t yet opened the blinds, making it difficult to see my hands lace up my boots. Just as I was heading back into the restroom I heard a tremendous wailing coming from outside: A high pitched car alarm was going off just outside my window and echoed down the length of the street. I thought it might've been a small car crash as I didn’t hear tires screeching. Once again, ignoring the commotion, I resumed with my morning instead. Switching off the TV and pulling the iPod from its dock, I moved onto the kitchen to prepare a quick meal as I only had several minutes until class was to resume.

I sat down to eat but became sidetracked when a loud crash was heard at my door. I didn’t think much of it as I figured it was some more Jehovah’s witnesses coming to spread their 'philosophies'. I ignored the frequent tapping until it became too overpowering to further ignore. From inside looking out, I could see a shadowy figure through the wooden and glass door standing on my porch. I wasn’t able to see who or what it was and went to answer before actually witnessing it thrust itself on the screen. Surprised and slightly confused, I stood in place and waited to see if it would do it again. They, or it, proceed to do it again. I’m about to get burglarized, I thought to myself and slowly rewound back into the kitchen to grab a knife from the drawer. When I went back out to the front door the figure was gone but the glass was now stained with dirt and grime. What the hell, I whispered to myself. Then, out of nowhere, the figured appeared again and slammed itself onto my door for a third time. I shout out a warning that I had a gun and threatened to call the cops but that had no advert affect on them. My living room window looked out at the front yard and some of the porch and upon looking out I could see two men on my stoop. Their faces were hidden from my view but they looked to be extremely dirt from behind. One of them was bleeding from the hand and was still leaking blood onto the floor while the other looked to be unharmed from behind. I knocked on the window and the one with a bloody hand turned to me and like a cat startled. His mangled face and arm caused my heart to skip a beat. The left side of his face was covered in dried blood and a wound from the side of his head to the nap of his neck still glistened fresh. The skin around his left eye was loosely hanging off from his head exposing the raw muscle and socket usually hidden underneath. His top lip was busted open and blood stains ran down his mouth, chin, and Adams apple, finally disappearing behind the collar of his shirt. His right arm was broken just below the inner elbow and something that appeared to be a sharp shard of bone ripped through the skin. The sight of his bloody appearance sent chills down my entire body and caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. I ran to the phone and instantly dialed 9-1-1 to report an injury and get this guy some help. The operator picked up instantly but my urgency level rose at the sound of the door giving in. My heart pound fast inside my chest as I fought to explain what I’d just seen to the operator on the line. I was told to stay in the house and keep away from any windows and doors as they were sending a patrol car. I found it slightly odd that she would ask me to stay on the line with her until the police got there but obliged nonetheless. She could hear the pounding on my door and asked if I was home alone. I assured her I was between yelling out at the guys outside. The bottom corner of the door was buckling inward and I had to drop the phone to try and keep it from opening any further. I tried to keep it shut but the force of the two bodies trying to barge in was too much and the door and I gave in. Stumbling backwards, I was able to see the first guy up close. His entire bottom jaw was missing and fresh blood ran down the gaping hole and all over the front of his sweater and jeans. His hands were covered in red and his left foot was twisted backwards, causing a limp and a nauseating popping noise. He eyes were still intact and glued to me as I tried to study him further. Forgetting I still had the knife in my hand I warned him that the police were on their way but he continued forward anyway. The two leap further into the house, leaving the door aside, and rushed into the kitchen. The only place I could think to distance myself from them was around the kitchen table but they soon followed suit. I was trapped between the two and had only one way out. I climbed on the table and jumped onto the small island nearby, making my escape through the front door.

The sun was just peeking out from the morning haze when another hoard came out from around the corner. I could see a few roaming the middle of the street heading in no particular direction. The homes lining the sidewalk leading up and down the street were beginning to look inconsolable and most of the cars out on the pavement were broken into and crushed. I couldn’t yet grasp what was happening but knew I had to leave. Where to? I didn’t know but my feet had to move. The owner of the house to my left was always on his computer sitting in his garage and I knew he would be there now. I ran over and found the garage door pulled open and my elderly friend slumped in his seat with blood running down his chest and legs from his open mouth. My hope for protection was gone but I figured I could still use his phone to contact the fire department as I had already phoned the police. I noticed the door leading into the house from the garage was wide open and stepped inside to search for their phone. When I stepped into the kitchen I found his wife thrown down on the floor with wounds all over her face and legs. She looked like a Thanksgiving turkey freshly carved into by a family of hungry zombies. The smell was faint but strong enough to nauseate the strongest of men. Their cat jumped down from the kitchen table and began to lick his dead owner’s finger tips smothered in blood. It looked up at me and meowed before screeching and running off. There was no phone in sight but I could see the dock hanging on the wall with the cord dangling to the floor. I looked around some more until a sweeping sound behind me captured my attention. The familiar eerie feeling covered my body as I heard a muffled grunt. I stood frozen and gulped hard but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t turn around. I knew what that sound was but most importantly I knew WHO it was. Slowly looking over my right shoulder, preparing myself for what I was about to see, I spun around and saw a shadowy outline standing at the kitchen archway. Taking a step back, I bumped into the counter top in front of the sink but never took my eyes off of the figure. To my right I could see a cleaver that my neighbors wife was using to cut up some cabbage and I thought I’d try and take it as I lost the blade I had before on the my kitchen table. Slowly I inched to it, step-by-step, then without warning, I leaped for it but so did he. I grabbed the cleaver first but he threw himself on top of me. He huffed into my neck as my elbow tried to hold him away from my face. I could feel his hands claw at my chest the more he tried to force himself onto me. With the cleaver securely in my grip, I swung at his head and stuck him on the right side. The blow didn’t have much effect on him as he continued to thrash about in my hands. Once again, except much harder, I swung the cleaver at his head and got the blade in deeper. This time his grip loosened and I was able to push him away so that I could make a run for it. The man fell to floor with the knife still in his head and, after giving him another whack on the head, I took the cleaver for my own protection.
Back outside, I heard a squad car pull up as I bolt out the door to meet the cop halfway. The squad car was parked in front of my house but the police man was still sitting inside. I ran out to the driver’s side and banged on the door but he didn’t move. He urged me to put the knife down and I complied with his orders. He got out of the car and drew his gun, taking off the safety, and pointing it out in front of him. Officer Ivan got out of his car and asked if I had been ‘infected’ but I wasn’t sure what he meant by it. Then he asked if I had been attacked by those things and I assured him I had. There was no hiding it as my sweater and whole left arm was stained in red after defending myself against the monster in my neighbors house. Understandably, Officer Ivan backed away and points his gun at me as he wasn’t sure if the blood was mine or someone else’s. After assuring him that I was totally unharmed, we walked up the steps to my house and cautiously walked into the front door. There was no noise coming from inside and the kitchen was clear.
“Police, come out with your hands up,” he yelled.
We walked deeper into the house with the cop leading the way. We made it into my bedroom but found nothing out of the ordinary and moved onto the bathroom then back into the living room. It felt as if the world had shut down beneath our feet as we stood around inside the living room with nothing left to do. My hardwood floors were covered in dirty boot prints and flakes of dried mud leading into the kitchen, around and on the table, and through the hallway but no signs of those things. At least not from the inside. We walked into the backyard and moved to the side of the house where a waist high fence looked out at the neighborhood below. We witnessed the deconstruction and havoc raining down in the once quiet streets of San Diego. Anyone caught outside while the zombies walked around ran in the opposite direction while others decided to simply lock themselves in their homes. If it weren't for the wide windows and glass doors they probably would’ve had a chance at surviving. People were dragged out from shattered windows, over broken glass frames, pulled and yanked on like rag dolls by hungry dogs. I stared out at hell unfolding before my eyes and felt a strange lump in my chest, slightly moving towards my throat, until it spilled into my mouth and all over the grass under my shoes. The winds soothing song was cut short by the interruption of the cops radio over his shoulder, the operator calling for backup in the neighborhood to our left. More officers needed on Tres Lomas near Alto, the robotic voice echoed in my ear, critical injuries reported on sight.