Diary number 2 [Love is fickle]

[Xahmen]

The gun had been empty back then.

The police never saw them coming, the walkers, the zombies; whatever you wanted to call them, they swarmed with mass and sheer numbers on their side. We all woke up January 30, 2007 to one sound and one sound alone: all of the transformers in the city simultaneously exploding as the power plant overloaded. We reckon a walker got into the core and fried itself on the cicuits. I woke up to my father trying to kill me.
Fires broke out.

We never had a chance, people had been taken in the night; their families turned from whatever they were into whatever they are now. I say we as a loose term, we're more of an "us" now; indivualism was lost when moans started.

God only knows how long it's been since then.
Twenty.... Thirty years?

I think I'm somewhere between 28 and 32 now.
I was young, real young.
I was only seven when it all happened.

My scars hid me well, my wounds shielded me from theirs eyes as I slinked through their ranks; my father, in attacking me, gave me the greatest gift of all: the chance for survival.
I was lucky, for some reason I never turned. I got very sick, so sick I thought I was finished on more than one occasion. I don't know why it didn't turn me.
A wound to the face holds higher chance of infection than a wound to any other part of your body; and my father almost tore my cheek out.
I disinfected and dressed the wound on my own every day for a month, I kept hidden in a medical supply store and when the occasional walker showed I hid or played "Zombie", they won't attack one of their own.
The power never came back on, and after a month of living off of rations, I picked up a crowbar and made my way out of the city.

I met up with a group. They thought I was a walker at first, but after talking to them and re-assuring that the wound on my face was over a month old, they let me into their encampment.
They all wanted to know how I was able to survive; I was seven, how could I have survived on my own and properly dressed a wound as serious as the one I had gotten, I just shrugged and mumbled a half-hearted explanation of how my father had been in the military.

But I don't think that has anything to do with it. We did research on the walkers, and we're fairly sure that the contaminant is only passable at a certain point of animation. I think my father was only carrying at the time he attacked me; I think he wasn't spreading it yet. But we determined that the time window of no infection was very small, minute size.

Maybe that, maybe having to kill my own family did something to me.
I was always mature for my age, but I think doing what I had to do did something.
I won't lie and say I don't have flashbacks.
They get really bad sometimes.

I'm gonna log out for now, I'll update in a bit.
G'night Lucy.  

[lidless_i]

Interesting twist...continuation... whatever... it's interesting is my point. Something that always perplexed me about zombies though, is that one could survive an attack from them by letting them starve themselves to death from having no more humans to eat. Unless they don't need to eat any more and they just crave human flesh for another reason... spooky...  

[Oukow]

Reminds of Resident Evil....Except I like this story of your's, Zahmen.
Resident evil... >.< Eek!

There shall be more, I hope, right?  

[The Duchess Grey]

Ohh, very good, I love zombie stories. Will there be more?  

[KirbyVictorious]

AUUUUUUUUUUGH! LUCY!  

[lucyVUITTON]

Lucy's my real name. xP

I like it, it was a nice twist and summed up all the questions we had before.