Home again, home again
Jun. 13th, 2007 06:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sihayadesignsI'm back at Skyler's. Turns out, the whole staying at work thing was not such a good idea. The adjoining building caught fire at quarter to 5pm. The 'barricading ourselves in' strategy doesn't so much work if your shelter's on fire. Reports have been that most of Pikesville is completely closed off to any vehicular traffic. Everyone's banded together and started regular patrols and stakeout-points. It's a hard line, well guarded. Better not to chance it. I'm just sayin', in the case of crisis, trust the Jews to come up with a great survival plan*. They survived 40 years in the desert-- next to that, a zombie apocalypse is practically a hiccup. Unfortunately, this means that I cannot get home. Which sucks-- Dixie's house is pretty defensible, all things considered. The windows are high off the ground, you can barricade the stairs and doors; retreat upstairs if possible. There's even a tree next to my window for escape.
So plan B was to get to Skyler's. Work people dispersed before I could suggest that it would make more sense to stick together. Typical, doing the exact wrong thing in the case of emergency. Not that I can claim much different-- things started going to hell, and I just wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere my boyfriend would know where to find me. Since the Metro was not an option, Sara offered to ride me into Mount Washington.
Most of the ride was uneventful-- a wreck here or there, but there wasn't much to see on 795. It wasn't until we got off 695 that things got real interesting. An old lady feasting on a Fedex guy. I always was a little creeped out that Fedex trucks have no driver-side doors. We ran over one zombie in the middle of the road. Made a horrible thump. Eugh. Anyway, there were huge burning wrecks right at the corner of Greenspring and Smith, making the final stretch completely impassible. I wished Sara godspeed, then started walking the mile to his apartment. I had my hair wrapped in a black DDI shirt; I figured that was probably less likely to draw attention. I stole a shovel from the first backyard I came across. It's not a great weapon, but it's something. Thank god I wore my Docs today. Soft and quiet. I can't imagine if I'd worn heels.
The first thing I noticed was the stench in the air. Singed flesh and hair, sickness and disease. The streets were eerily quiet, save one house with the door wide open off the hinges and the television blaring a soundtrack of gunfire and screaming. It started to rain-- big fat drops that made the sizzling asphalt smell like the bottom of an empty swimming pool. As I walked, it got quieter-- only a few big houses and a few half-finished developments. Not a huge threat until I got closer to Bonnie Ridge. A bus was overturned; there was a madly yowling, dismboweled zombie pinned beneath a wheel, and hands clamoring through the broken glass. I broke out in a run.
I almost got the two blocks to his door without seeing another deadhead. Of course there was one right between me and the door. Of course. A big, lumbering fat one. Just my luck. It started howling, and I knew I needed to shut it up before it attracted more. It took a few hard swings of the shovel to the head, but eventually, I cracked its skull. I was careful to close my mouth and eyes. It was messy. I swear, the fifteen seconds it took me to get the door open with my shaking hands felt like an eternity. Just as I slipped inside, I saw another one lurch towards me from across the street.
So, I'm safe, for the time being. I've barricaded the sliding door with the sofa and a bookshelf. I've never been so happy that Sky's a geek-- as I type, I've got a shiny, sharp katana next to me. I've got the internet. Top news at CNN-- the Olsen twins are finally eating. Er, other people... but it's a start, right?
Night's falling. I'm nervous. I still haven't heard from Skyler. Russell and Joe aren't home. I'm terrified. I'm alone. And every now and again I hear the most sickening sounds from next door. Someone, something scratching against the wall. I won't be getting any rest tonight.
I need to go to the kitchen and take stock of non perisha
God. God. Something's at the door.
BLITEOTW.
*World War Z, by Max Brooks
So plan B was to get to Skyler's. Work people dispersed before I could suggest that it would make more sense to stick together. Typical, doing the exact wrong thing in the case of emergency. Not that I can claim much different-- things started going to hell, and I just wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere my boyfriend would know where to find me. Since the Metro was not an option, Sara offered to ride me into Mount Washington.
Most of the ride was uneventful-- a wreck here or there, but there wasn't much to see on 795. It wasn't until we got off 695 that things got real interesting. An old lady feasting on a Fedex guy. I always was a little creeped out that Fedex trucks have no driver-side doors. We ran over one zombie in the middle of the road. Made a horrible thump. Eugh. Anyway, there were huge burning wrecks right at the corner of Greenspring and Smith, making the final stretch completely impassible. I wished Sara godspeed, then started walking the mile to his apartment. I had my hair wrapped in a black DDI shirt; I figured that was probably less likely to draw attention. I stole a shovel from the first backyard I came across. It's not a great weapon, but it's something. Thank god I wore my Docs today. Soft and quiet. I can't imagine if I'd worn heels.
The first thing I noticed was the stench in the air. Singed flesh and hair, sickness and disease. The streets were eerily quiet, save one house with the door wide open off the hinges and the television blaring a soundtrack of gunfire and screaming. It started to rain-- big fat drops that made the sizzling asphalt smell like the bottom of an empty swimming pool. As I walked, it got quieter-- only a few big houses and a few half-finished developments. Not a huge threat until I got closer to Bonnie Ridge. A bus was overturned; there was a madly yowling, dismboweled zombie pinned beneath a wheel, and hands clamoring through the broken glass. I broke out in a run.
I almost got the two blocks to his door without seeing another deadhead. Of course there was one right between me and the door. Of course. A big, lumbering fat one. Just my luck. It started howling, and I knew I needed to shut it up before it attracted more. It took a few hard swings of the shovel to the head, but eventually, I cracked its skull. I was careful to close my mouth and eyes. It was messy. I swear, the fifteen seconds it took me to get the door open with my shaking hands felt like an eternity. Just as I slipped inside, I saw another one lurch towards me from across the street.
So, I'm safe, for the time being. I've barricaded the sliding door with the sofa and a bookshelf. I've never been so happy that Sky's a geek-- as I type, I've got a shiny, sharp katana next to me. I've got the internet. Top news at CNN-- the Olsen twins are finally eating. Er, other people... but it's a start, right?
Night's falling. I'm nervous. I still haven't heard from Skyler. Russell and Joe aren't home. I'm terrified. I'm alone. And every now and again I hear the most sickening sounds from next door. Someone, something scratching against the wall. I won't be getting any rest tonight.
I need to go to the kitchen and take stock of non perisha
God. God. Something's at the door.
BLITEOTW.
*World War Z, by Max Brooks
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
el oh el.
Date: 2007-06-14 01:27 am (UTC)Damn Olsen Twins.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-14 02:46 am (UTC)Braaaaa-ains.
BRAAA-AINS!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-14 07:21 am (UTC)perfect!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-14 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-14 06:45 pm (UTC)