4th October

Okay I need to tell this. I met another survivor.

I was on my way back from Hanley when I had to turn off of the route I was using. There were zombies on the road, at least a dozen of them. I had to sneak down another road, one I wasn't very familiar with. I wasn't too worried though, because I tend not to get lost provided I know the rough direction I need to head in.

Anyway I'm walking along until I come to this little residential street. I realised that there were corpses lying around. Some of them seem to have been there a while, but strangely there weren't any flies though, meaning they must be zombie corpses. For some reason the zombies didn't attract flies. I drew closer to a couple of them and saw that they had been shot. I'm serious! Every single one had a bullet hole in its forehead, right between its eyes. I looked around, trying to see if there was any sign of who had done this, when I heard a zombie moan behind me. I turned around to deal with it, only to watch as its head snapped back before it collapsed to the ground, a loud bang permeating the air. I turned around to see where the bullet had come from and found myself face to face with a tall raven-haired woman, early-mid-forties, holding a bolt-action hunting rifle. She casually reloaded the gun, but kept it raised towards me. I put both hands up, saying that I'm not after hurting her or anything. She tilted her head, a curious expression on her face, like she didn't know what to make of me. I introduced myself, asking if she had someone safer we could talk. She finally lowered the gun, telling me to follow her.

We walked into one of the houses nearby, a red-marked house with a solid oak door. The plastic sheeting had been ripped though, as though someone had escaped after being sealed in with a zombie. The house was relatively tidy, a large bloodstain on the carpet which someone had cleaned, and soot marks on the walls from the open fireplace in the living room. She gestured me to sit and propped her gun against the wall. She said her name was Lauren, and that she was sorry if she had scared me, but I was the first living person she had seen in a week and a half. I echoed the statement, only now realising that it had felt like so much longer. I asked how she got the gun. She said it was her husband's, who was a gamesman for some of the big landowners in the nearby countryside. He used it to hunt rabbits, foxes, etc on their land. She said he had been infected, which was why they had been left behind by the army. She had woken up on the Thursday morning after the attempted evacuation to find that he had turned and was eating the dog he took hunting with him. She had grabbed the gun and killed him, burying the body in the back garden. She stopped and I could see tears in her eyes. I apologised and she shrugged it off.

She asked what I was doing out there. I told her everything, about Judi and the kids, my little adventure in town, the army's bolluxed evacuation attempt, the spread of the virus, the survivor forum, everything. She took it all in, starting at me intently the entire time. She said that her and her husband, Jeff, had never bothered with a computer, and so she had no idea what was happening. Her only concern had been staying alive. She said there was plenty of ammunition for the rifle, and that Jeff had shown her how to use it when he had taken her rabbiting. She had started killing them just to keep them away, but once she realised they only died with headshots she had been using them for target practice. I had to admit she was good.

She started the fire, offering me a cup of tea. I refused politely, saying I never drank the stuff. She lowered the blackened tea pot into the fire. I watched her, fascinated at how she had survived this long. She had been actively facing the zombies, granted she'd been doing it with a gun, while I had been too scared to venture out of my house for ten days! It might be that she was older than me, giving her more confidence, I don't know. Either way I found myself in awe.

Over the next several hours, where we just talked constantly. I can't even remember what about! I think we were both just so glad to see another human being. I realised far too late just how dark it was. There was no way I could head home, the zombies were more active and with no streetlights I didn't want to put my eyes to the test trying to find them. She invited me to stay, saying that there was a spare room, and she specifically warned me against any funny business, which I had no problem with. I reiterated that I was trying to get out of the city and find my fiancée, so funny business was not on my agenda! She seemed happy with that and made up the spare room for me, which is where I am as I write this.

I don't know what Lauren's plan is. When I leave tomorrow I have no idea if she'll come with me or stay here. And if she did come with me would she be a help or a hindrance?

3rd October

Well those survivors were right about one thing, there are no zombies in the city centre.

There's something worse instead.

I barely slept last night, disturbed by what I had seen inside the Potteries. The encounter with that zombie, which I was sure I could still hear moaning, as well as that corpse, had shaken me to the core. When I started seeing daylight through the shutters I opened them.

I had managed to find a change of clothes the night before, but I still felt wet. The last thing I needed right now was a cold, or worse flu, especially in such unfamiliar surroundings. The problem was the lack of heat. I would have started a fire, if not for the risk of disaster. The fact I was exhausted didn't help. I wrapped up as warm as I could and decided to keep myself active. I tested how well I could move in the layers I had on, rehearsing the karate kata I had seen on youtube. I had no idea how effective they would be in a fight, but now, unlike when I had learnt them in karate class all those years ago, I felt reassured by them. The kitchen knives I had sharpened and arrayed within my belt helped as well!

When I had gathered what I could from the shops within the centre, mainly winter clothing, I decided to head outside. There were several outdoor equipment stores on the main streets not far from the Potteries main entrance, except the main entrance was plate glass and locked. smashing it would undoubtedly attract zombies, and I was sure that other entrances were open. I left what I had gathered in Debenhams for when I returned. Following the route I remembered in the service corridors I emerged in the large loading bay underneath the centre. I heard it before I saw it, a loud buzzing from the main area. I looked and saw a swarm of flies surrounding the corpse of a naked young woman. She was covered in, and surrounded by, a large pool of brown blood. I was glad I hadn't eaten anything yet, although as I wasn't heaving as much as I had yesterday maybe I was getting used to seeing this kind of stuff. How morbid is that? I don't know why she was naked down here, but somehow I knew she hadn't been a zombie. Maybe I should be glad the survivor group hadn't been here. What if they had done this to her? I didn't want to get any closer so I headed for the open loading bay doors and outside.

The rain had stopped and the sun was shining. As cold as it was it sure felt good to get some sun on my face. I headed to the outdoor store and found that it had already been raided. I managed to get my hands on some proper thermal wear though, as well as a sleeping bag, a small portable camping stove, and most importantly of all, a decent compass. I dropped the stuff back at the loading bay before heading to the last place on my 'shopping' list.

Festival Park is a large retail area located about a mile, maybe less, from the city centre. Its got really big versions of high-street stores like Curry's, Boots and Mothercare, as well as the sort of shops you only see in these kinds of parks, like Toys R Us and PC World. PC World was my target. I needed spare batteries for my laptop, maybe even something more portable like an ipad, as well a batteries for my phone. I needed these things was not out of some longing feeling for the tech-savvy world that was ending around me, but because I needed to keep in touch, not just with Judi, but with the world which still existed. The UN had been discussing what to do the last time I had checked, and what remained of our own government might not have abandoned us completely. I didn't want to stray that far, but the only computer shop in the Potteries was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. The phone stores in town were the same. PC World was the only remaining option that might be viable.

The walk there was uneventful enough. There were a few zombies nearby, hiding in the shade, but I kept to the sunlight and I don't think they saw me. Unfortunately for me PC World had been looted. I don't know who would loot things at a time like this, although I suppose what I'm doing is very similar. Survival is one thing, but these people had obviously been after selling this stuff to make money. Unless things turned around pretty soon though I got the feeling that money was useless. I walked in to the dark warehouse-like building, using my torch to assess the damage. It didn't seem like a lot had been stolen, it must have been a small group of looters. I was moving towards the ipads when I noticed it. Movement. I stood still and turned off the light, relying instead on what little sunlight was coming through the smashed front entrance. I heard it before I saw it. The zombie was in the next aisle, facing away from me. I drew one of my knives.

I don't know how to describe what I was thinking at that moment. I know it would have killed me, and that it wasn't really human anymore, but I still killed this thing without a second thought. My left hand went over its shoulder and grabbed its chest, pulling it towards me. Careful to avoid its jaws I reached my right hand to the left side of its neck and plunged the knife into its flesh. It stuck for a split second before it punctured the skin with a faint popping sound. Warm liquid splashed my arms as I drew the knife across its neck, feeling the elastic pull back of the veins, as well as the resistance of the thing's windpipe. I pulled the knife from below its right ear and let the thing go. It collapsed, blood seething from its neck as it gasped its death rattle. I watched as it stopped moving, except for the odd twitch. As my breathing slowed I felt euphoric. The adrenaline rush of the kill had been exquisite. It was an addictive feeling, but once I calmed down the old, friendly sensation that existed beyond fear but before panic returned. I grabbed what I needed to and left.

When I returned to the Potteries I did my best to wash myself down. The blood had ruined the clothes I had. Fortunately it rained again in the evening, and so I just stripped down and went to the roof. It probably won't help my gradually developing cold, but the impromptu shower meant I was the cleanest I had been in days. Or my body was, my mind was far from it.

I realised that I had enjoyed that murder earlier and it scared me. I could justify it anyway I liked but the fact remained that I had killed someone, and worse I had revelled in it. I knew that this wouldn't be the first life I would take either. There was no doubt I would be forced to kill again and part of me eagerly anticipated it. Now I was never a pacifist and despite anger issues I am not generally a violent person. This turnaround scared me. What if other survivors were like this? What if we grew so addicted to taking lives we turned on each other? The image of the woman in the loading bay came back to me. I felt even more sure that the survivors here, addicted to murder, had turned on themselves. How else was one of them decapitated? The zombies I have seen don't seem capable of anything like that.

I had always held a very negative view of humanity as a whole. We have nearly destroyed our planet's ecosystem, as well as coming very close to wiping each other out a few times. But with this current crisis, what will the survivors turn into? Will we fight and kill anything in sight as our world burns? Will humanity's best and brightest get killed by those who adapt most easily to this new way of living? Will we eventually eat each other to survive, not knowing how to do anything but kill?

If my feelings after that kill are echoed by the other survivors, I feel that we may be worse than the zombies.

2nd October

Just like yesterday its been raining all day and I'm soaked wet through but I did it. I got to the Potteries in Hanley.

But I'm wishing I didn't.

For starters this city is a ghost town. The only way I know to walk to Hanley is by following the bus route, which I did. It's not the quickest way but at least I had a good field of vision. I saw loads of those zombies. They are starting to look worse. I think They might be eating each other, as they were all horribly wounded. Several times I felt myself about to throw up just by looking at them, especially the odd way that these wounds didn't seem to bother them. They are moving differently as well. Several of them were all jerky, as though they couldn't get they were having a fit. And the ones I got a close look at had sunken faces, dark eyes and gaunt jaws. Maybe they were dead after all, and this was them decomposing, but it seemed different to that, like they were starved. I hadn't seen too many of them, considering how far I walked. Somehow I managed to avoid them spotting me. I'm so clumsy that I have no idea how! I was very aware of the noise I was making, but maybe the rain was drowning me out, or their ears aren't that good after all, who knows?

I got to the Potteries and walked around, looking for a way in, or even better, someone inside to help me. All I found instead was one of the back doors left open. I entered and shut it behind me. I was in one of the service corridors that ran behind all the shops, where the deliveries arrived. I was familiar with the layout of a few of them, after using my summer job at Sportsworld as an excuse to explore them. I was worried about the fact the door was open. Had some of the survivors escaped? Were there zombies inside? I looked at the door and noticed blood on it. Bloody handprints, but from the outside. I found a bar of metal racking further down the hall and picked it up. It looked really weak, but having it in my hands, feeling the weight, did wonders for my confidence. It was a piece of racking from a clothes store, a hollow stand for one of those 'islands' that people crowded round. I had nervously explored, finding my way onto the main upper floor.

I did my best to keep as quiet as possible, still unsure of what had happened. There were more signs of something amiss, including plenty of bloody footprints. I followed them back to their source inside a small ladies clothes shop which someone had obviously tired to make romantic, and found a headless corpse. I just about managed to hold the vomit, until I saw the milky eyes of the head looking at me from across the room.. I quickly ran out, vomiting over the rail to the ground floor. After I caught my breath I turned around, to see a zombie coming at me from across the balcony. I obviously hadn't heard him over my noise, as well as the rain hammering on the roof. I didn't think anymore, I just ran and hit him with the racking. It did nothing but bend around his head. I didn't stop though and kept hitting him.

Looking back now I realise that I couldn't stop. I had had enough! It had been two whole weeks since this began, and I hadn't let out everything that was building up inside of me. I was uncontrollable, something that has happened before and got me into plenty of trouble, and might have gotten me killed, except it saved my life. Don't ask me how, but somehow I managed to throw the zombie over the railing. The sound as he hit the floor was sickening, as was the smell I realised. Not from him. He didn't smell. The other corpse did though, and the whole area stank of stale blood. The analogy disgusts me but I've cleaned them up from public toilets before so I know what they smell like - it was like a million used tampons. That exact same stale smell mixed with lots of blood.

Something had obviously happened to the survivors here, and judging by the fact that the blood on the floor was still fresh it had happened as recently as yesterday, perhaps even this morning. But these survivors had obviously prepared before whatever happened. Debenhams, the store that held most of the stuff I needed, has all but one its entrances locked. Each floor was locked off from the others. Fortunately the second floor was the open one, the one that had what I needed. I had gone inside, shutting the security grate behind me. They had obviously been staying here, using the display furniture as a living area. I discarded the bent and useless racking and seized several knives from the kitchen area, along with a sharpening rod which I slipped through my belt. Using the wind-up torch from the army I made sure the floor was clear, which it was.

I texted Judi that I was safe and that I was getting supplies. She replied that the family that owned the B'n'b were also there and that they were following the advice on the news to prepare. I'm staying at the Potteries tonight. I've looked around as much as I can, and sealed the whole building as well as I can. The only area I haven't really explored is the loading bay downstairs. It can wait until tomorrow.

I have to go, my battery is nearly dead.

1st October

Ok this is just a short post. The power is out and I need to save my battery.

I'm guessing that if the power is out then the army aren't coming back anytime soon, meaning that anyone left in the city is on their own. That means I can't stay here. I need to get the supplies I need from the city and head to find Judi and my kids as soon as I possibly can.

A survivor group in the Potteries Shopping Centre in the city centre should be able to help. They said that there wasn't many zombies left there yesterday. And the city has several outdoor shops, where I can pick up some camping equipment. Obviously I don't want to weigh myself down too much but if those things are on the main roads then I'm straying from the beaten path, and that means camping.

I'm not sure I'm ready to face those things though. It's one thing reading about self-defence and combat, but I've never liked fighting at all. And these things actually want to kill me, making it even more dangerous. At least I know some basics in theory, but I'm not gonna look for a fight.

I'm leaving early tomorrow.

Behind the Scenes:First Month

Okay so September is finished, and apart from a few delays due to real life, there have been new chapters regularly.

This has been an interesting way to write. I did have a vague plan when I started, based on my previous story (as explained in the last Behind the Scenes: http://garhdo-contagion.blogspot.com/2010/09/behind-scenes.html). But as new ideas come to my everyday I can actually incorporate them into the story straight away, providing even more potential for future chapters.

Anyway for new readers, and old ones, here is a summary of the events of September, in order to keep things fresh in your mind as we head forward into October:

Sat 18th: In the evening strange murders occur in Stoke, at my old address. The bodies are missing but the scene is covered in blood.

Sun 19th: I get extremely spooked by the murders. I see many people injured from bites, as well as the emergency services being extremely busy. The news reports on violence in the city. My partner Judi calms me down by phone.

Mon 20th: The police are baffled and believing that a drug is responsible after arresting several attackers. I encounter one of them in the park near Hanley City Centre and run after warning another man about him. Stoke town has been sealed by armed police. In the evening the army arrive and enforce a curfew.

Tue 21st: Soldiers in hazmat suits go door-to-door, asking people if they have encountered infected. The houses are then marked with either green numbers, or red biohazard symbols. Someone on my street is shot dead trying to escape. the radio says that Stoke, Longton, Fenton and Hanley, as well as surrounding areas like mine, were all under martial Law on the Prime Minister's orders. Each house is given supplies. I tell Judi but hide the truth, telling her not to worry.

Wed 22nd: The army attempt an evacuation. While in Longton Market getting processed however, a young woman turns and attacks several others. The army try to shoot her but she doesn't collapse. The shots cause the crowd to panic and flee outside, where more of the undying things are attacking the soldiers. I flee home, observing the chaos along the way. I tell Judi to take the kids and leave the city.

Thu 23rd: Several of them are outside, eating two people who I could have saved had I been awake. Looking online I find that the news has been covered up. I also find a forum of survivors around the city. Judi texted me that she was heading to a B'n'B in the country near Alton with a friend's help.

Fri 24th: I have to disable the electric meters for the other flats to prevent them beeping as it has attracted the things outside. I realised I hadn't heard from my family, probably because the news had been covered up. I decided not to worry them.

Sat 25th: I broke down the doors to the other apartments after researching how to online. I then raid them for food and begin to plan what will last and what won't. However the noise I make attracts them, preventing me from truly exploring. I write my plan of action.

Sun 26th: Judi told me that she was in the B'n'B and that my dad was helping her with money. I told her more about what was happening. I began my research to prepare for when I followed her. I advise people on the forum to share their information.

Mon 27th: I spend the day observing the things outside, including testing how they respond to noise, and recording how long before they stop banging on doors they can't get through. I begin to understand their limitations. I finally tell Judi the complete truth about this.

Tue 28th: I start researching in depth, looking up combat techniques, the right knives to cut flesh, how to find and purify water.

Wed 29th: The story breaks in the national news. People who have escaped the city provide harrowing accounts which appear in all the papers. It has spread right though the Potteries Urban Area. I tell Judi that this means help should be coming soon.

Thu 30th: I go back to the forum, where people have shared their information about the zombies, as well as warnings that the water is stagnant and the power is failing. Meanwhile the infection has spread to the neighbouring counties, the Prime Minister has resigned, and the United Nations are contemplating action.


And so that is the summary of everything so far. Due to real life interruption I won't have anymore updates over the weekend, but the new chapters we be released at once so that I can catch up to myself on time.

And I always appreciate any kind of feedback, good or bad.

30th September

Today I went back on that forum to find that there were dozens of responses from different survivor groups, all sharing what they had seen and observed.

Not everyone agreed with my consensus that these things weren't quite dead, but we all agreed that they weren't human anymore. We all had identified that the bites seemed to be the main source of the infection, but we disagreed on just how long it took to become infected. The only people I had seen were that old woman in town, and the two who had been eaten outside, and they had all gotten back up fairly quickly, becoming those things very quickly. Whether they were dead or not they did seem to need blood, as one of the survivors had slit the throat of one, which had collapsed fairly soon afterwards. Apparently they had one main weak spot, which was their head. They ignored any other wound, but taking out their head or spinal cord stopped them dead. They could be outrun, or even outwalked for the most part, but only if you had space to do so. That meant sticking to wide open spaces, which increased the risk of them seeing you. They also seemed more uncoordinated during the day, as though they couldn't see well in bright light. One guy said that he had seen them looking as though they were in pain and dizzy. Someone had replied that it was probably because of the fact they hadn't eaten or drunk anything for days, and they were starving. If we left it long enough, he guessed, they would die off. This idea had been largely shot down by the other users, most of whom, like myself, wanted to get out. Some couldn't just hide, being low on food and other supplies. Apparently some areas of the city had been blacked out last night as well, another sign that the things we took for granted would soon be gone. One person even warned against drinking from the taps, saying that half of the group she was with had died after getting ill from stagnant water. There was no mention of soldiers, apart from one group that had seen special forces soldiers with a helicopter a few days ago. They had captured one of the things and flown off with him. Weirdly though the guy said they had specifically hunted this one, avoiding others. Someone guessed they might be working on a cure, but if that was so, then why go after one specific thing, and not all of the others?

I checked the rest of the internet, to see if it was still in the news. It turns out that it was. Big-time. Apparently these 'zombies', as the paper was calling them, had appeared in towns in the neighbouring counties, including Warrington, Crewe and Runcorn in Cheshire, Lichfield and Tamworth in Staffordshire, Derby, Greater Nottingham, Glenfield in Leicestershire, Nuneaton in Warwickshire, Kidderminster in Worcestershire, Madeley and Telford in Shropshire, and even the major West Midlands cities of Coventry, Wolverhampton and Birmingham. This thing was spreading faster than it could be controlled. The huge cover-up was failing though, and now all the images were being released. I even read that the Prime Minister had resigned, and the Queen had advised the people for calm, telling us to trust in our elected officials to steer us through this crisis. The United Nations was apparently considering both quarantining the whole country, and sending in troops to help. British citizens who had recently left the country were being segregated in case they were infected. It was pure chaos. If, like people on the forum had been insinuating, the government or the army did know something they hadn't said a word.

I decided that this couldn't go on. I needed to find my family. I needed to be with them, and keep them safe. Tomorrow I'm getting ready. I want to be out of this house and on the road to her by Monday.

29th September

Well it happened. Seemed like whatever measures the government took to cover this up have failed, because the story just hit this morning.

It was the first thing I looked for online this morning, as usual. I do it to see if there is any news about what I can expect when I leave here. Normally there is absolutely nothing, but today it was the only headline.

'The Dead Walk!'

'Govt conceals truth. People left by Army. Stoke-On-Trent lost. No official word'. The list went on and on, each paper finding its own thing to focus on. I'll share the story here so that all the facts are in one place, because the stories in each paper are fragmented, as though they all got parts of the story but no-one got it all.

The first source was a woman who managed to get out of the city on Sunday. She travelled on foot to avoid soldiers, who were pursuing her to put her in the camp in the Moorlands. However she managed to get ahold of her sister, who drove her to London. The paper has kept her safe while they verified the details. She said that she saw the things withstand hails of bullets from soldiers, who fired at civilians to control them. She said that it started in Stoke, spread to Longton, Hanley and Fenton, but the army apparently have the majority of the Potteries Urban Area quarantined or evacuated. I checked online and as of the last census that's over 350,000 people! Any survivors were subject to martial law and evacuees had been sent to large camps set up on the Staffordshire Moorlands.

The next main source was one of the people at one of the camps. Apparently they had blood and stool tests performed daily. No-one knew what they were looking for because they had all told the hazmat soldiers days beforehand that they were clean. But some must have been infected, because the soldiers separated them from the rest and they were never seen again. This guy had escaped because he was in one of the smaller camps, which had somehow been overrun by the infected. Several of them managed to break down the fence and escape, only to get shot at by soldiers, before helicopters bombed the place with something that sounded like napalm. He had escaped with a two others, one of whom told a harrowing story about how she had been in a nightclub in Hanley on the Monday night when everything went tits up, the same night the army had arrived. She had been partying when someone had turned into one of those things and started attacking everyone. Apparently the guy had just been 'with her friend' if you get my meaning. He had been stopped by riot police and handed over to the army, and her and her shaken friend had been driven home. She had never seen her friend again.

Finally there was a report on the sources that were inside the city. The internet forum was one, along with several harrowing youtube videos, blogs, even a pirate radio broadcast. This blog even got a mention. Look at me ma, I'm in the papers(!)

There was nothing official though. No politicians, either from the coalition or the shadow cabinet, had said anything. The Prime Minister was refusing to comment. No army officials had said anything either. It was suggested that the government were hiding everything but no-one knew why.

I rang Judi and asked if she had seen it. She said that she had, but didn't know what it meant. I told her it meant that The army really can't contain this, and no matter what story the government put out they can't just make this go away. She wasn't convinced. I told her it meant that help would be coming, somehow.

We were all gonna be OK.

28th September

Today has been filled with internet research. And I really hope that there aren't search-words that set off alarms, or I'll be buggered when I get out of here.

Because today nearly every web-page I have looked at involves some kind of criminal activity.

The worst bit is that I'm not even joking. I don't know how long the power in this city will last. I was assuming that the army will keep it working as they must know there are people left behind, but as they haven't come to our aid they probably don't care. That means eventually the power will go out, and with it my internet access.

So today I have been learning what I need to survive out there on the road. If the rest of the city is anything like this then I need to be able to fight, find shelter etc. hence the items I'm looking up.

For starters I needed to know how to fight. That meant looking up combat techniques. I found a comprehensive list of grappling techniques on wikipedia which should be very useful. I doubt I could hold myself against an opponent that was a match for me, but these things are slow, and the fact that they bleed and breathe means they should be susceptible to chokeholds, which is what I'll need to stop them seeing me and alerting a horde. There were other close quarters techniques, including using limb holds and the application of force to unbalance your opponent. Sounds easy on paper but I'll have to test it, especially as I still haven't actually seen these things fight firsthand.

But once I've taken these things down I need to finish them. I'm really trying not to think about murdering people, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters. But this may be necessary. The only problem is these things seem invincible, I don't even know if I can beat them, let alone kill them. But again I knew they bled. That meant they could bleed out. Add to that that this country has soaring knife crime rates, local butchers, at half-decent knives in every kitchen, means that I can easily find a good weapon. I looked online and found that there were even more types of knife than I thought, and that my standard serrated knife probably wouldn't do a thing. I needed either a large, sharp Chef's knife, or a fillet knife. Both of these, at least according to the descriptions online, would be good for slicing through raw meat and therefore flesh. I decided I would be better off aiming for the veins or arteries in the neck rather than the windpipe mainly as the death is quicker (yahoo.answers really does have all this information!). However to get at them easily the head needs to be bent forward. Although I didn't know if there was a risk of them moaning as they would still be alive for up to ten minutes. There was something I read about one of OJ Simpson's 'victims' being cut deep enough that the spine was severed, but that sounded complicated. Hopefully by the time I have to apply all this the things will already be down. And I didn't know what effect this would have on the blade, or how sharp the knife would need to be to do these things.

Another thing was surviving on the road. I've never been camping or in the scouts, or anything else like that. And know I was looking at things like tents, making fires and finding water and making it safe to drink. I felt like I was cramming for my exams again. I had no idea what the situation was in the city, and that was assuming that this chaos was still contained to the city and hadn't spread further by now. I didn't know what my safest route would be, if I could find supplies along the way, whereabouts those things would be, a whole number of variables presented themselves. For example you need to drink four pints of water a day to keep in a good condition. Now I don't want to have to carry that much around with me, weighing me down. And while I could steal what I need from shops, they might be alarmed.

I feel like I'm looking at a jigsaw puzzle without having all the pieces. I need to use tomorrow to find out information about the current situation. If I'm lucky some of the other survivors on that forum might know more.

27th September

Today I've spent all day watching them. I thought I'd share what I've learned.

Firstly, these things are NOT dead. If they were dead then by now, assuming most of them died last week, they would have gone through rigor mortis and would by now be greenish, bloated and maggot-infested. They aren't. These things are healthy in most respects. Even those with wounds are healing. They breathe, they bleed, they eat. They are relatively fresh-faced, their skin paling and reddening to external sources, such as bruising, collision, and the cold winds outside. Some are even flushing, having bright red blotches on their skin. They don't smell of decay either. In fact the only real smell I noticed upon opening the windows is from the ones that have soiled themselves, something they don't seem to care about.

I recognised several of them from the past few days due to their clothing, but one surprising fact is how little clothing some of them had. I presumed that they had become what they were now while asleep, or in the very early or very late hours, and had somehow escaped their houses. I knew that some had escaped the red houses, though whether themselves or by being freed I didn't know. The clothed ones had a variety of outfits. There was everything from a heavily wrapped up tramp and some tracksuit-wearing teens, to a business suit and a girl who had obviously been out partying based on her skimpy outfit.

I looked for a common sign as to what had made them all become what they are. The only common theme I could find was the wounds on nearly all of them. The un-bandaged ones showed the curvature of bite marks. These wounds were most commonly on the arms, but a few were on the necks. I assumed that the ones I couldn't see were covered by clothes, perhaps on the legs. However while the bites seemed to be the most common cause of this affliction, they were not the only one, as the army hadn't picked up on whatever had affected that woman who turned at the Market, suggesting she had been infected by other means. The most notable contagious conditions I knew of that were borne in the blood are also present in sexual fluids, but I doubt she did the nasty with one of these things! Also they weren't in saliva either, but then this was something new.

One of them stood out for his mutilated appearance, and I realised he was one of the ones they had been feeding on the other day. Whatever afflicted the others had transformed him into one of them, yet he was horrifically wounded from being feasted upon. He had been disembowelled and was missing a large portion of muscle on one arm, which made it hang limply at his side. He had not been conscious while being eaten, meaning that something similar to death had occurred between his previous existence and this. I thought of the old woman at the evacuation centre in the Market, who had collapsed and lain still for several moments before reviving. But even so he showed signs of his wounds scabbing over, he was breathing and despite the obvious blood loss he had experienced his skin did not have the alabaster colour of a corpse.

They are acting strangely however. They stagger around seemingly without purpose, however I know that they follow noise. They also seem averse to light, all moving into the shade whenever the sun broke the clouds. A few of them are holding their heads and stomachs, as though in pain, but I can see no obvious injuries. One even collapsed as though she had fainted. Their eyes and faces all seem sunken, making them seem even creepier. I wondered perhaps if this had anything to do with starvation, or dehydration even, as I had never seen them drink and the last time I saw any of the familiar ones eat was several days ago.

I knew they could climb steps as they had gotten up to the front door of my building, which was a good few steps up from the pavement. I decided to test their reaction times, as well as climbing ability, by attracting them. I upended a table in the foreigner's apartment with a loud crash. The ones on the street instantly turned to the noise, faced my building and began moving towards it with an almost drunken gait. The thing I had never noticed before but did now I had the window open was the noise. They all made a long, loud moan when they turned. It was a thoroughly chilling sound, both agonisingly mournful and deeply frightening at the same time. The pure alienness of the moan made the hairs on my neck stand up.

They all stared straight at the source of the noise. I moved to the other apartment to avoid being seen and looked down on them as they clumsily started traversing the stairs. I'm not sure what I had expected, but they moved as though they had never climbed stairs before, falling over and climbing over each other. Some just became stuck at the metal fence either side of the narrow staircase and reached up with grasping fingers, moaning and snapping their jaws. The ones that did manage to tackle the steps successfully made it to the door and window and began banging their fists or forearms against the glass. I had to observe this from the hall due to the lack of a good view. The banging sounded loud but I could see that while there was some effort to it they were only using their arms, rather than pitching their bodies back to make the blow, meaning that it was comparatively weaker than it potentially could be. They seemed to have no reasoning of this.

I started a timer on my phone to record how long it took for them to become disinterested. However that theory didn't quite work out, as more of them started walking into the street. There was still only about thirty, consistent with the amounts previously. I guessed that they had been nearby, and had been drawn closer by the moans of their fellows, rather than by my noise. A theory that seemed supported by the fact that whenever one of them moaned the others turned to the sound. The first one who had banged on the window eventually staggered away exactly forty minutes and fifty-six seconds after doing so. She turned away and promptly fell down the stairs, scattering some of the others, a noise which attracted the others turning them all away. The one who had fallen stood up, despite the fact that judging from the twisted angle of her foot her leg was broken. She proceeded to walk away on the broken limb without so much as a wince, meaning that if she did feel any pain it obviously didn't bother her.

They were all nearby for a good few hours before the majority of them started to wander away. I had found a lot of things that I could use to my advantage should I have to face them, but also several things that would make them very dangerous opponents. I wasn't ready to leave yet, but I was beginning to get more prepared for when I did.

I had a short conversation with Judi via text. She was still okay, but made it clear that she was very worried. She demanded to know the truth about what was happening. I told her. I skipped the worst bits, but I told her about those things, the army's attempted evacuation, my current situation and my plan. She was quiet for a while, and then asked if we were gonna be okay. I told her everything would be fine, and that I would find her soon. She asked when I was leaving, and I told her hopefully by the end of the week. She asked what the plan was after that. I said I wasn't sure, that it depends on whether this infection is anywhere else by then. I told her to kiss the kids for me and wished her sweet dreams.

But she raises an important question. When we meet up, assuming the whole country isn't fucked up, then what?

26th September

With most of the things having wandered off again I decided to break down the last few doors. I needed this building to be fully secure so I could prepare to follow Judi.

I had spoken to her and told her what was happening. I had skimmed over the worst bits so as not to scare her too much. She said she was staying at a Bed and Breakfast on a country road between here and Alton Towers. It wasn't that cheap but she had told my dad that the city was in crisis and that I had told her to get out for her own safety. He had asked how I was and Judi had told him that stuck I was in the city but was planning to follow her. He had given her some money, she wouldn't say how much, but it meant she could stay there for a while. I had told her to tell our family and friends what was happening because I felt pretty sure that the army couldn't contain whatever this was to Stoke, especially after what had happened Wednesday. I knew Judi and the kids were safe though and, while worried about my mum, dad, stepmum, brothers, sisters and my nanny, I had my short-term goals in order.

I had written a plan of action last night before going to sleep:

1) Make my building secure. That meant I had to barricade windows and doors so I could withstand a larger and longer siege than I had so far. Also preserve the food and water I had to make it last. Could I get more? How little could I survive on and for how long?

2) Study the things's behaviour. I knew they would leave if they couldn't get in but they came back when I made loud noises. They were slow and I could use that to my advantage, but what other advantages did I have over them? Could I defeat them if necessary?

3) Research as many skills as necessary to survive on the internet. I knew the basics now for breaking and entering, but what about things like making fires, distilling water, combat, camping, driving, etc. What tools would I need to survive once I left this place and headed out into the world to find my family? Also how long would things like power and water last?

4) Research the city and other survivor groups. Where were they barricaded? Were they safe? What areas could I use as rest-stops on a journey? I didn't know how they would react to me so I wasn't sure if I should chance it, but it might be necessary. Also while I knew my way around the inner city, there were still many places I was unfamiliar with.

5) Plan my route to Judi. I knew where she was, but I didn't know how easy it would be to get there. I didn't know how many of those things there were, what new obstacles such as fires and rubble might be in the way. I also didn't know how long it could take me. Would I need multiple routes?

And so today I started. I found the granddad's tools in his closet. There were nails, a good hammer, a power drill/screwdriver, plenty of small screwdrivers and screws, and a very good handsaw. I started demolishing the wardrobe, removing it piece by piece. The noise had attracted another horde of those things, but it sure felt good to finally block up the window they were banging on with a solid, inch-thick oak panel.

I spent as many hours as I had left today before dusk online. I read plenty of websites and scrawled their addresses on paper for further research when my mind was more up to it. I even started a new topic on that survivor forum where I posted my action plan, advising everyone to share their information so we could all survive.

Hopefully they'll listen.

25th September

So its day 3 of my time being housebound. The things, attackers, dead people, whatever you want to call them outside are gone. Probably wandered off looking for more food, after failing to get THIS meal.

That meant I had the perfect opportunity to make any noise I needed to inside.

I had looked up lock-picking online, including tools and methods, even the fact some people do it as a hobby. The main thing I had learnt was that it wasn't easy and usually required at least one specialist tool, like a torsion wrench. I didn't have anything like that. What I found instead was a guide on the best ways to apply force to break down a door without injuring yourself. God bless the man who invented wikipedia. I knew the basics of kicks from a couple of fairly long stints in different karate groups. I had never stuck it out due to the people there taking it WAAAAAAY too seriously. I mean I was only a kid! The point is I knew I could do this.

I went upstairs first. I checked the big closets that we all have outside our apartments. Both were locked but the keys might be in the apartments. I went for the foreign guy's apartment first. It took a couple of tries, and leaning on the banister, but eventually, with a loud crack, the door gave way. I opened the door, removing the lock from the shattered frame. Inside was about what I expected for a guy who is out of the country most of the year. It was sparsely furnished, similar to mine in fact, with several small decorations like photographs dotted around. I tried not to look at them and turned most of them down. I found keys for the closet outside, which I would check in a second. There were a few tins of food in the kitchen, which to be honest was more than I was expecting. Things like soup, fruit and vegetables, even a tinned steak pie filling. His fridge-freezer was turned off though but I still checked to make sure it was empty. The closet was full of business papers. Boxes and boxes of bank statements and the old fashioned computer printouts that fold over as one big sheet. Beyond that there wasn't much of interest.

A couple of nice high kicks later and I was in the granddad's apartment. Plenty more food here but not a lot of it tinned. It was more perishable things like breads, cheeses, meats etc. I need the tins for long-term survival, but this stuff would stop me needing any of the tins until I left to find Judi and the kids. Amazing huh? In a few days I had gone from thinking everything will be alright to planning for the worst. I couldn't find a key for the closet, meaning he had probably taken them with him. I was going to leave it, until I realised what I really needed.

I knew what was in the last flat. When I moved in the landlord gave me furniture from the other flat. the only things left in there was a large oak wardrobe. It had been far to large to move, probably having been built in the room we found it in. It would make brilliant barricading but I had no way to dismantle it or to nail it up in the windows. So I hoped that either of my neighbours had some tools. The granddad was the best bet, especially as I had been introduced to him when he was repairing the wiring on the doorbells, ringing mine in the process. That meant he had some somewhere but I didn't know where.

Then the doorbell rang. I looked out of the window to see that THEY were back, probably attracted to the noise I had made. To ring the doorbell they must be packed in on the steps. I calmed down and placed myself by the windows to look down on them.

By the time they finished it was long past dusk, far too late to search without turning a light on, and there is no way I was going to do that with them outside. I was sick of the sight of them and their drunken movements. They were aimless most of the time, or seemed it anyway, pursuing every new sound. One of them span in circles for half an hour following something but getting distracted by the noise the others kept making on my door. Some kept falling over, unsteady on their feet. Many were wounded, either bandaged or not. Also judging by their efforts on the door they were slow to learn. I didn't agree with the forum user that they were dead though. Unusual and violent behaviour with hollow and creepy eyes was one thing. They may not be fully human anymore but I had no doubt in my mind that these things were alive. They bled, bruised, ate, blushed, and moved around. These weren't zombies or the undead.

They were undying.

24th September

I managed to get the best night's sleep since this all started last night. I think it's to do with the fact that I didn't want the lights on after dusk, coupled with exhaustion. But I got a shock this morning when I woke up. The other flats all have key meters for their electricity. And one of them was beeping constantly, due to being low on credit. I didn't know if that would attract those things, but I couldn't take that chance. I took my modelling pliers - I always knew model soldiers would pay off - and ran to the hallway to silence it.

Once in the hallway I could hear them at the door. They were leering through the reinforced window. Although it didn't look like there was as many as yesterday. I'm not sure if they could see me through the frosted glass but I didn't want to chance it. I hid under the stairs next to the electric meters. I looked at them and studied the wires, finally putting that Electronics GCSE to good use. First I flipped the circuit breakers in the other apartments off, but that didn't affect the noise. I then started snipping through the cables coming out of the meter boxes with the pliers. It still didn't help. I tried pulling the box apart, but it wouldn't budge. I was losing my cool a bit. Well, that might have been an understatement! The fact they kept banging on the windows outside didn't help. I didn't care about the noise anymore, and ran into my apartment and got something to break the box, an umbrella of all things! It eventually worked.

I stayed under the stairs for what seemed like hours, waiting for the banging outside to stop. Eventually they must have realised they couldn't get in and staggered off. I got up as quietly as I could, which considering my size, isn't easy! I snuck to the windows and looked outside. There were only about a dozen outside now. But I knew that they couldn't get in, and even better, so did they.

I decided to explore the other apartments, take stock of supplies. I knew one was empty, as the landlord hadn't rented it yet. Another was used by someone who spent most of the year abroad, and was currently unoccupied. The other had been home to a man and his grandson. The grandson had gone to what I presume was his mother's last week and hadn't come back. The man had been in Longton on Wednesday and had been way ahead of me in the queue, so I'm hoping he got out. The only problem was I had no way to break in to the apartments. I knew I could either pick the locks, or make noise kicking doors in, but I didn't know much about either of those.

I went back online, looking for advice. No one had responded on that survival forum, but there were plenty more posts from other survivors, including a group inside the Potteries Shopping Centre in Hanley, some officers at the police station, and people at the radio station near Stoke. There was still no official word on what was happening. Just wild rumours. One person even suggested that the people attacking us all were dead!

Then I had the scariest thought I had since Sunday. With the exception of Judi I hadn't heard from any of my family. They never normally called, which is probably why it hadn't seemed unusual. But they should have called with everything that was happening. Then I remembered the distinctive lack of news reports online yesterday. I looked again to make sure, and it soon became clear that although this had been in the news on Sunday, it had been covered up. Replaced instead with more celebrity/hooker sex scandals and the Labour Party leadership race. Although there was something about terrorist threats from Irish Republicans, but I doubt any biochem weapon they had available could make people want to eat each other in a blood-soaked frenzy, or make them invulnerable to gunshots. Not exactly what you want to put on the news, I suppose. I decided not to worry my family. If they hadn't learnt anything from Judi then I wasn't going to tell them yet.

I'll tell everyone when I get my fiancée and kids out of this city alive.

23rd September

I don't know what to do.

I hardly slept last night but when I did wake up I looked outside, tentatively peeking through the curtains, and got the biggest shock yet.

THEY were everywhere!

There were at least two dozen of them, crowded into patches in the road. They were crouched over, jostling and pushing each other. They were eating, I realised. Eating people. In my broken sleep I had heard screams and gunshots in what I thought had been dreams, but now realised were people being killed outside. I just about made it to my bathroom before I threw up.

I nervously checked every window. There was only one of them at the rear of the house, wandering around aimlessly. After a head count I saw that there were 23 at the front, clustered mainly into two feeding piles. One was separate though, walking in circles while eating a handful of bloody meat that he had obviously ripped from the corpse. I'm ashamed to say that it reminded me of how hungry I was. I closed the curtains in every room and went to see what I could eat. From the humming of my fridge I knew that the power was still on, but I didn't know how long for. I also knew that I didn't have much food in, and if I was stuck inside I had to make it last. I realise now that I had already accepted that I was on my own, that the army were too busy elsewhere to come back. I didn't know how these things hunted, or if they could get in. I figured that noise or light would probably attract them, and that even twenty-three of them could probably smash a double-glazed window eventually, no matter how hard they are to break. I ended up just eating some bread and butter.

I spent the rest of the afternoon flitting between the internet and watching outside. I was trying to absorb as much information as I could. I looked up any news reports, which were surprisingly scarce, although the woman yesterday had said something about preventing panic. Instead I found lots of private blogs by people, just like mine, full of information.

One was a girl in a red house who was trapped inside. Her boyfriend had been bitten, leading to them being sealed inside. He had gone into convulsions early yesterday morning and collapsed. She had tried to get the soldier's attention but had been ignored. He had suddenly gotten up and attacked her. She had killed him by smashing his head with a bedside lamp. She started to ramble at this point, mentioning how sorry she was, and that she had taken some pills before it happened to her. Then it ended.

One person had posted footage of the evacuation in Hanley on youtube. People were being eaten by a slowly approaching horde of those things. Soldiers shot them repeatedly with fully automatic rifles, unloading whole magazines into the crowd, mowing down plenty of fleeing, panicked people. The things still kept walking though. Blood pouring from their wounds. The clip ended with one of them lunging closely towards the camera, its glazed eyes unfocused, its blood-staining jaws hanging open. People had commented that his 'movie' looked great, and asked when they could see the whole thing. Other comments insisted it was real, but no-one believed it.

One forum was full of survivors posting their status, saying where they were and how many of them there were. Some had wounded, some had weapons, some had food. Some groups were large, but others were only one or two people. Some were in empty areas, others were besieged by those things. I added my own details: 'one man trapped in his apartment, over twenty of them outside, no weapons, low on food, need advice'. I made a note of the biggest survivor groups and their locations. If I did get out of here I figured there would be strength in numbers.

I texted Judi, asking her if she was alright and where she was. She replied that one of our friends from the pub was going to give her some help to get to a bed and breakfast in Alton tomorrow. I told her to get out early tomorrow and to let me know when she had. She agreed. Hopefully I can meet her soon.

22nd September

I am trying to write this while in a state of SEVERE shock so bear with me.

The army have lost control, people are dying, and the THINGS that were people are killing and EATING anyone they can find!

I may not be making any sense, so I'll tell you everything I can.

This morning I woke up and looked outside to see that the houses with the biohazard signs had had the windows, doors, garages, etc all sealed down with plastic sheeting and duct tape. I thought this made sense, I mean these people are infected, right? So cordon them off so we don't get infected, OK cool. But they can't get out, and the soldiers can't get in. They just trapped people in their homes to die.

Of course this didn't register this morning but then not a lot did. Not until about lunchtime when the street filled with big military jeeps. Soldiers started knocking on all the green houses again, dragging us all out and into these jeeps. It happened so quickly that I barely had time to grab my house keys, never mind anything else. The soldiers were all armed, and there was a lot of shouting. I could hear distant bangs, probably gunshots. I didn't want to think about it. No-one on our street tried anything though, not after yesterday. Once our truck was full it drove off, heading into Longton.

The journey was quiet and subdued. The streets were empty apart from soldiers and jeeps like ours. A few people in the jeeps were crying but that was it. Every street we passed had the same mix of red and green marked houses. But as we got closer to the town centre the residential areas got left behind, but I swear there had been more and more red houses.

Arriving in Longton we started to see police. They were all dressed in full-on riot gear, and a lot of them were armed as well. The jeep stopped behind the indoor market. We were all told to head inside the rear entrance in single file by a police officer. The market is very big but it can come across quite cramped when full of people, and I have never seen it fuller than this. Obviously the shops were all shut but some of the empty units seemed to have soldiers milling around. There were large lines of people curling through the aisles, starting from the open plan cafe next to our entrance, which had support staff on every table interviewing people. We all joined the queue. I patted myself down, only then realising I had left my phone at home. I asked a cop if I could use a phone, only to be ignored. I yelled at him, demanding to speak to Judi, or at least to be told what is happening in Meir. Was this all happening there as well? And why had we all been taken from our homes? Were we prisoners? I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane during my outburst, nervous as hell, but it didn't stop me. In fact when more people heard it and started to demand answers as well I was very tempted to shut up and leave them to it, but just like yesterday with the hazmats I couldn't stop myself.

The cop drew closer and looked me in the eye. Listen, he said, everything would be explained to us all shortly. We weren't prisoners, we were being helped. We couldn't contact anyone at the moment but we could soon. He gestured to the cafe, where the support staff were letting people talk on mobiles before taking them back and sending them outside. Someone from behind me asked if we were being evacuated, to which the cop ignored him. But it made perfect sense. I'd done this in biology- to cure an infection in a bacterial population you need to remove the healthy bacteria from those that were infected. That is what was happening to us! We were being quarantined so the infection could be cured!

But it was already too late for that.

I was in that queue for what seemed like ages, slowly inching forward while the line continued to grow behind us and people filed out the front door after being processed. I finally sat down at one of the tables opposite a large, middle-aged woman who looked very worn out. Her hair had obviously been tied back but was coming loose. Her tie was loosened and several buttons on her blouse were open. A sheen of sweat coated her brow. She looked exhausted, like she had been here all day. After taking my name she started to deliver a well-rehearsed speech before I stopped her, demanding to know if Judi was OK. She said that the quarantine had not spread as far as Meir yet, but that it might. She said I could speak to Judi shortly. She said that I was to be evacuated away from Stoke-On-Trent to an isolated refugee camp in the Staffordshire Moorlands, on the edge of the Peak District National Park. The camp is being overseen by the army and is safe. I will be allowed to return home once the situation in the city has been resolved. I must leave immediately with only what I have but items such as clothing will be provided. She also said that in the interests of preventing panic I couldn't reveal this information to anyone I spoke to on the phone. I signed a document agreeing to what she said, and then she gave me the phone.

I asked Judi how she was, trying to avoid worrying her. She saw right through it and asked what was wrong? If I was OK? I told her I couldn't talk about it in detail, but the army were sorting things out, but it meant that I had to leave town for a bit. I told her to do the same. To get the kids, plus what money she had, and go to stay near Alton Towers or somewhere like that, further out. She said that the town is closed off and she couldn't get a bus. I told her to ask for help from my friends in the pub, ask my dad in London to wire her money, anything, but to get out soon. She got really upset and I knew she was crying. I bit back tears, trying to stay strong for her. I told her that I didn't know when I would be able to talk to her again, but to remember that I loved her and the kids very much, and that I would see her once this was all over. I hung up.

I started to be directed out of the main entrance when I heard a scream, followed by shouting. I turned to see that a young woman was biting another, much older, woman in the neck. Blood was spraying out everywhere. People started to jostle each other out of the way as they backed away from the carnage. One brave man threw the young woman off, but she just took a chunk out of his arm instead. Soldiers started surging through the crowd, ordering people out, while the old woman collapsed to the floor, twitching. One soldier pistol-whipped the woman, while the man recoiled, his wrists pouring blood. I was fascinated, having never seen anything like it. Despite my horror, the crowd of people fleeing around me, the soldiers pushing through them, and the nausea welling up inside of me, I couldn't take my eyes from the macabre scene.

The man was shouting and swearing, trying to cover his wound. The old woman had stopped twitching, now lying still, apart from the blood squirting from her neck. The young woman was wrestling the soldier, snarling at him and gnashing her blood-soaked teeth. Another soldier shot her, but she didn't go down, she just kept attacking. The gunshot sent the already panicked crowd into a frenzy, and the sudden tide of fleeing bodies started to carry me out of the door. The soldier fired again and again with his sidearm, but the young woman didn't fall. Suddenly the shots stopped, and I could just make out the old woman with her jaws clamped into the soldier's ankle.

I decided to go with the crowd to prevent myself getting trampled. People started to run along the parade of shops to the nearby transport interchange, presumably where the buses were waiting to evacuate us. I fought my way free of the crowd and looked around. I heard more gunshots, but these were from down the road, toward the crossing. I saw more of those undying things rushing at the soldiers. I turned and ran, but not with the crowd. I was running home.

I don't think I stopped the whole way here, but I don't know how. I'm not very fit however and it took me ages to catch my breath back afterwards. I saw corpses along the way, some where they fell, others piled up. There were dozens. I heard windows banging as I ran past and saw people in the red houses waving their arms at me, or snarling and weakly thumping the windows. I saw blood on the inside of some houses. Some of the sheeting had been ripped, with doors flung open. I saw fires as well, lots of them. From small blazes to roaring infernos. I ducked when I heard gunshots, no matter how far away they sounded. I even saw some of THEM, shambling along roads, raising their arms towards me as I ran past. None of them ever ran, they just staggered like the man in the park. My street was relatively clear. No damage, no fires, no corpses, no walkers. I ran inside my house, locking every door behind me as best I could, before collapsing.

I sent Judi one text. 'Get out now! I'm not sure what's happening but it's bad. Leave now and I'll follow you as soon as I can.' I just hope I can deliver on that promise.

21st September

It's all over. The army have gone. Turns out there was some strange compound in the local water that caused people to go a bit crazy, but everyone's cured now. I knew it would all work out.

How desperately I want to write those words, but they are too far from the truth.

It isn't over. Far from it. I woke up this morning after the worst night's sleep I have ever had. Perfectly understandable really. You try sleeping with armed soldiers pacing up and down your street outside. The army are still here. In fact there are even more than before, which just makes everything seem worse. They won't let people out of their houses. Seriously! I saw two men get frog-marched back into their house at gunpoint, just because they were trying to go to the shop. The soldiers told them not to leave, repeating the speech from last night about us being under martial law.

I don't know what they are looking for but I think by now it is obvious that something is making these people behave violently. I WAS agreeing with the paper that it must be some sort of drug until about two o'clock, when everything got turned upside down and back again.

A big truck pulled up onto the street, leading to the soldiers going on edge. There was actually three trucks but the others had headed further down the road. People started getting out. But these weren't soldiers, or at least didn't look like them straight away. They were covered head to toe in these white one piece outfits that I didn't recognise until I saw the gas masks. Hazmat suits. A few of them were armed, some had clipboards. They started to unload things from the trucks: bottled water, portable radios, those big bags of food they give to disaster victims on the news and paint cans.

The hazmat guys started splitting off, going door-to-door, one clipboard guy with two armed ones. They came up the steps to the apartment block. My flat is on the ground floor and shares the same building with three others, presumably all big two-beds like mine. I went into the communal hall, heading towards the door. I opened it to find that both of the guns were pointed at me. Now I've never seen a real gun that close. Hell, I've only seen them at the airport and that was about 8 years ago! And I've never had two high-power rifles pointed at my head. I'm surprised I didn't piss my pants. Instead I put my hands up, despite my paralysing fear, and told them to come in.

The clipboard man asked which flat I was in. I said I had just moved into flat 2. He asked where the girls had gone. I told him I didn't know, I was living alone. I guess he had the Electoral Register on that board, as they didn't have me at this address yet. He grumbled behind the mask and scribbled my name on the sheet. He asked if I was infected. I asked him what he meant. He asked if I had been bitten, attacked or in any other kind of physical contact with any of the victims. I was still confused and asked him for an explanation. He said it was complicated. I crossed my arms and told him to explain what the fuck was happening. I don't know where this bravery came from. My mum and I have a tendency not to take shit off of people and it has gotten me into trouble before, but I thought even I had more sense then to make demands of soldiers with guns in my face. It was like watching someone about to make a big mistake but being unable to stop them.

The clipboard man cocked his head and calmly said that the people who were causing the violence were victims of a strange contagion that could pass easily to other people. The army were trying to contain the infection. To do this they needed to know who was infected so they could treat them. I nodded and told him about the man in the park. He got nervous and asked if I had physical contact with the man at any point. I said no, he was at least twenty feet away at all times. He made another note and told me to return to my flat, saying that the soldiers will be bringing supplies soon.

I looked out the window. The same exchange I had had with the clipboard man was happening everywhere else, with varying levels of intensity. One man punched a soldier, leading to his arrest as his wife and kids started crying. One woman, whose arms were covered in bloody bandages, tore a soldier's hazmat suit, and only calmed down after being slammed into a wall by the other, who pinned her with his rifle. She broke down in tears and headed back inside.

Suddenly a loud bang, followed by another, and then an ear piercing scream, sent everyone silent. Down the road a body was lying in the middle of the tarmac, cradled by a young woman who was sobbing. One of the normal soldiers nearby was lowering his smoking rifle, while others helped the blood-soaked hazmat soldiers. I saw the glint of the sun in a knife blade as they began CPR on one of them. The woman, still sobbing, was placed in handcuffs.

I didn't know what to think, nor did anyone else by the look of it. I'm still not sure I can wrap my head around it.

A few hours later, after the hazmats had finished, a soldier came to the door of my flat and handed me some provisions. There was a big bag of brown rice, about six two-litre bottles of water, a wind-up camping radio, a wind-up torch, and some tinned meat. I asked if they were expecting the power to go out, referring to the wind-up devices. He said it was more a precaution, but told me to listen to it for instructions. When he left I looked at the radio. I would have been listening all day on my phone if not for the fact that the hands-free kit was one of the many things left at Judi's when I moved out. I noticed that it was set to a particular station. I turned it on to find that Signal One was on, but it was broadcasting emergency instructions. They were saying that Stoke, Longton, Hanley, and Fenton, as well as the areas between them had been quarantined and placed under martial law on orders of the Prime Minister. Stoke had even been shut down like this for twenty-six hours already, meaning while I was in town the army were already in the city. Four of the six towns had been closed down though! I couldn't believe it. I turned the radio off, not wanting to hear any more yet.

As darkness fell I found myself looking out of the window, to notice that soldiers were painting on the doors of all the houses. In green paint were numbers, presumably showing how many were inside. But every so often there was red paint. The red paint was the biohazard symbol, painted through a stencil. These houses were also numbered.

I hadn't said anything to Judi all day. I didn't want to worry her, especially after yesterday. Hearing that my area was quarantined must have frayed her nerves. but I couldn't avoid the issue, especially as I had no idea what the news channels she was doubtlessly watching were saying. I sent her a simple text:

'Hey angel, the army are still here. one said they are just taking precautions over some bug that's caused everything. I'm OK and everything will be fine I'm sure so try not to worry. Love you angel.'

The worst bit? Even after what has happened today, I still think things will be okay.

20th September

Okay it's official. Whatever it is that's happening in Stoke is getting worse. How do I know this you ask?

Because the Army are outside.

I better start at the beginning. I woke up this morning with my mind still buzzing over everything that had happened yesterday, but today is my day off so I was determined not to dwell on it. I was going to go window-shopping in the city centre, pop into Games Workshop to chat about all the stuff I was gonna miss out on at Games Day, and generally just chill out. Ah, the best laid plans eh?

As it happened I walked down the road to Longton, the nearest of Stoke's six town centres to my flat, in order to get money from the bank for the bus to Hanley. On the way I noticed the headlines of the Sentinel, the local paper. It said that the police had been left baffled by the violence. I promptly bought a copy and proceeded to read it.

Apparently there were over a hundred separate officially recorded incidents, starting after the double murder on Saturday night. They also said that many people may not be reporting incidents, making the number much higher. Apparently the incidents a great deal, with no discernible pattern. Only a few suspects had been detained, and apparently all were unresponsive and antagonistic. Some people had been badly wounded. Some had no wounds, just having being hit or wrestled. One police officer was speculating a drug connection, a hallucinogenic or something like that, after Operation: Nemesis busted a suspected crack house this morning and arrested a half dozen people with the same symptoms as the previous suspects. Apparently they were wounded as well, but none of them seemed to be in any pain. They also had a report from the hospital, saying that the victims were being bitten by their attackers.

Now that sounds like its not too bad right? Most people have been bitten at some point, by their kids, a bully at school, a lover (although that ain't too bad), etc. So you think that a bite isn't gonna do much damage, right? Okay well consider how easily your teeth can get through an overcooked steak and you know how dangerous a human bite really is. It made me remember that one of my regulars yesterday had said he had been bitten, breaking the skin on his arm. And then that story about the woman biting that guard came back to me as well.

Now none of this really sat right with me, but what was I supposed to do? I rang Judi just to check that her and the kids were okay. She said that they weren't going anywhere until tomorrow when she got her benefits through. I told just to ring me if anything odd happened. Meanwhile I carried on into town. I had complete faith that as strange as things were it would balance out. I've always had faith in the police, even contemplated becoming one at one point, so I knew things would be okay.

If only I had an idea of how wrong I truly was.

So I spent the day up Hanley, a pretty normal day by all accounts. Except for signs that things still weren't quite right. I saw loads of bandages on people, some really bloody ones as well. Some of the people looked really pale and ill. I even saw someone collapse! No obvious reason on God's green earth why, the guy just keeled over. Someone called an ambulance and he got rushed off but I know I wasn't the only person worried by it.

Still today was a pretty nice day so I headed for a walk in the park to try and take my mind off things, and that's when it got really weird. There this guy in the middle of an open area at the top, wandering around aimlessly. I thought he was drunk at first, just cos of how he was moving, until he lunged after a dog that ran past, spinning round to reveal that his clothes were soaked in blood. Old blood too, I mean I was a good twenty feet away and I could see that it was dry and brownish. I've never seen blood in that amount before and I was choking back bile wondering what to do. The guy was walking towards the dog, which was bounding around its oblivious owner. He wasn't aimless anymore, he had a definite purpose to his movements and even though he was swaying there was this ominous intent visible in his movements. I rang the police, only to get put on hold. I yelled at the dog owner, who turned and saw the guy, who now turned towards me! I left the details on the automated line for the police and ran. The owner asked what was with the guy, and I said I have no idea.

I was so shocked I headed home on the first bus, noticing more police cars around than yesterday. But they weren't all driving around now. There were cars in laybys and side roads, ready to go. Vans too. It was like they knew what was going on and were ready for it. I suppose I should have felt reaffirmed, but by now I was just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. I texted Judi and told her everything. She was worried so I told her just to stay indoors until we find out more. That was what I'm doing. But that's when I noticed the scariest thing I'd seen all day. As the bus driving I noticed that all of the roads into Stoke town centre itself were closed, guarded by police. Armed police.

About half an hour ago it really got scary. I heard this noise outside. It was a voice being played though a loudspeaker. At first I thought it was the scrap metal men that go past every so often, but it wasn't. It was the army. A group of soldiers in full combat gear were walking down the street, surrounding a jeep with an officer with a megaphone. He was telling everyone to stay in their homes until further notice. I saw that some soldiers broke off, taking up positions on the street. The officer's voice came on again: Due to recent events the local area has been placed under martial law. Anyone not complying with orders from police or army soldiers would be arrested. I rang Judi but she said that nothing was happening that far out. I told her I was scared, I think I may even have cried, which I haven't done in years. I can't remember what she said but I felt better.

I can't help but wonder what is really going on though.

19th September.

Hey my name is Garhdo, and this is my new blog.

I've never had one before but I've always been interested in starting one, mainly to post my fan-fiction, which I write an AWFUL lot of!

Some things you may want to know about me: I'm a father to two young children, who are the most important things in my life, followed shortly by my partner Judi, who I have been with for nearly 8 years. We had a major breakup a few months ago which means we now live apart but things are slowly getting back on track. As well as being an amateur writer I am also a barman. I work at the Windmill Inn in Meir Heath, near to Stoke-On-Trent, which I moved to from my native Bromley (London/Kent border) about five or six years ago with the intention of studying, but I left University and got a job instead.

But I'm getting off topic. The main reason why I am starting this blog today is because some strange things have been happening.

It started last night, although I didn't hear about it. I was in the paper shop eyeing up the main headlines that don't matter, like some hooker on the X-Factor, or two celebs in a 'will-they, won't they', when the news came on Signal 1 in the background. Signal is the local radio station and the headline news story caught my attention. Two people were brutally murdered last night in Stoke, one of the main towns in the city, but it happened on a street, even in the very house, where I used to live! Well it may even have been three people. The paper said that a heart surgeon from City General, his wife, and their next door neighbour were all missing. Apparently the lawn of the surgeon had blood traces from all three, but no bodies had been found. The whole story really spooked me. I got the distinct feeling that something wasn't being said. I asked the gent behind the counter if he knew anything. He said the story had been on all morning but there was no real information. Except something from a police officer who said that they were treating this as a murder despite the lack of bodies, and that the neighbour was the main suspect. I thanked him and left, heading for work.

I walked all the way to work, which from my home in Weston Coyney is a fair trek. Along the way I noticed a lot of Police cars on the road. Now I've always noticed a higher police presence in Stoke compared to Bromley and it always made me feel safe. But this, coupled with what I had heard, just made me feel nervous, especially given the fact that at least half of the cars I saw were flashing their lights as they sped past. I even saw two ambulances flashing the lights as they rocketed along the A50, and BOTH fire engines set off from the fire station as I walked past, heading in different directions as well.

When I arrived at work though it didn't stop. I heard someone say they had seen someone get attacked in Hanley, the city centre. The person had been bitten, badly, by this drunk looking woman. A couple of the regulars had bandages on their hands. Now as most of them are tradesmen who do hard graft with their hands this isn't uncommon, but I could see the bloodstains. They all said they had been bitten while out and about today. Bitten by people. One even said he had been to the hospital to get his stitched, and he said he had seen at least twenty people in the A&E with similar wounds. Another was lamenting the police's failings saying that he had called the police after he had been attacked, only to get an automated line taking his details. That had been several hours ago and he still hadn't heard anything. Even one of my fellow staff members said she had seen some people acting weird earlier when she had been out shopping. In the Potteries Shopping Centre, she said, she had seen two guards wrestle a crazed woman to the ground before hauling her away.

Just before I left work I flicked the television onto BBC news. I don't have a television aerial at home y'see, and I found myself needing to know more. I was hoping that the regional news headlines would be on when instead I got a shock. The headline burned itself into my mind: Stoke-On-Trent police left baffled by over sixty reported acts of violence within the city. Chief of Police advises people not to panic.

Don't panic. As if after all the strange gossip I had heard today I could do anything but. I rang Judi, who said that she hadn't heard anything. I told her the whole story, and she calmly reminded me that violence happens. It had just been brought home to me because it had involved people and places I knew. She was right, my calm voice of reason. I agreed turned off the phone and came home.

But this whole thing still has me spooked. Writing this has been cathartic though, exorcising my demons I suppose. Hopefully tomorrow's post will be a bit more light hearted. I might even share that short story I've been working on.

Behind the Scenes

Hi my name is Garhdo and I am the author of this piece of fiction. I thought before I started my regular posts I should explain a bit about 'Contagion'.

'Contagion' is an idea I came up with about 5 years ago. The goal was to create a story of a Zombie apocalypse but featuring only British characters. Back then it was set in London, and focused on a small group of characters. Now the story is set in my current hometown of Stoke-On-Trent, a much more unassuming place then London, and hardly the typical setting of any apocalypse story.

The Prologue that has been on here since January is the overall prologue to 'Contagion'. I wrote it a long time ago and set up this blog in order to post a preview of the story, with an aim to getting it published. But as time went on, and I was struggling to whittle down the chapters for the preview, I had a different idea. I decided that I would instead craft another story exclusively for this blog.

This new story- 'Contagion: Family Man' -is based around me, turning myself, my partner and my children into characters within the story. It will follow a character based on myself as he struggles to survive, and reunite with his family, in a city where the dead are coming back to life to eat the living. This story will act as a side-story to the main story, which I am hoping to get published in the future.

I hope you all enjoy this story. It starts today: Sunday 19th September.

Contagion - Prologue

'For by now I could have stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth.'
Exodus 9:15

18th SEPTEMBER

THE MICROWAVE BEEPED, signalling that Kenneth Carpenter's ready meal was cooked. He reluctantly stood from his armchair and walked through to the kitchen, hesitant to tear his eyes away from the television, where the two teams were taking to the pitch, ready for the nine o'clock kick-off.
He opened the microwave door and removed the meal, not bothering with a plate. He briefly stood in the doorway as the national anthem came on the speakers. The match would be starting soon, the most important match of the season, the match that would decide whether or not England got the points they needed for the World Cup next year. He got a spoon from the cutlery drawer and a fresh can of lager from the fridge before heading back into the front room.
As he collapsed back into his armchair he felt a tightness in his chest. He took several deep breaths and it quickly passed. This had been happening more and more frequently recently, a sign of Kenneth's poor health. Kenneth was an obese man, weighing in at just over twenty-eight stone, yet even so for most of his life his health had been flawless. He had been involved in a series of medical tests when in college, designed to create the 'perfect healing solution'. Kenneth had been one of only a handful of people out of the thousand or so test subjects to respond to the treatment. As a result he had always ignored his health, as he had always felt healthy, despite his obviously unhealthy appearance. Even his GP had once remarked that he had never seen someone of Kenneth's size with such normal blood pressure or heart rate. But little did Kenneth realise that his time was running out.
Faster than he could ever have imagined.
Kenneth took a large swig of his lager, let out a tremendous belch and began to eat his ready-made curry, sauce dripping onto an already stained t-shirt. This was a daily routine for him: several tins of lager, with ready-made frozen meals cooked in a microwave as his only sustenance. It had been like this for so long. Once upon a time things may have been better, but his college sweetheart had left him for his best friend, several days before his mother died. Kenneth had left college then, and spiralled into a deep depression. He survived on the government's meagre handouts, as well as one dead-end job after another. The woman at the job centre was always saying that he needed to look for a more permanent job, but he had never found the impetus to search. Besides he liked his weekly visits with her. It was nice to have a woman be nice to him every once in a while, even if she only did so because she was getting paid for it and her smiles were slightly forced.
The referee blew the starting whistle on the television and Kenneth watched as England immediately took control of the ball and headed towards Indonesia's goal. Kenneth, excited, sat forward in his chair, watching as the new boy, up-and-coming striker Darren Jenson, gained control and launched the ball in a graceful arc over the keeper's head into the top right corner of the net. Kenneth, along with every England fan in the stands on the screen, jumped to his feet. Like most people he had been doubtful about Jenson, feeling that the boy, being already one of the youngest professional players ever, wasn't good enough yet to play internationally. He had said as much at the pub, but as his friend Ray had reminded him, the boy had made quite a name for himself in the Premiership after becoming the season's most notable new signing. Kenneth found, as he danced around his room to the chants of the crowd, that the manager had made a good choice in selecting the young Jenson for such a valuable game.
Suddenly pain shot through Kenneth. He clutched his chest frantically and collapsed into his chair. This time however the pain showed no sign of going. He needed help.
Fortunately Kenneth's next door neighbour was a heart surgeon at City General. Kenneth decided to head to his house and staggered towards his front door, the pain in his chest getting worse with every step. The left half of his body felt sluggish, his arm hanging limply by his side while his foot dragged on the floor. He tumbled head first into a table in his hallway as his leg muscles seized up. He tried to stand, the pain intensifying with every ragged gasp for air. He saw red spots dancing in front of his eyes as his vision blurred. It would be so easy to let go, a voice in his head said, the pain will just stop if you do.
'No.', he said to himself, reaching up to a shelf with his good arm and dragging his large frame to its feet. He had no intention of dying, whether he had anything to live for or not. His ears were no longer registering discernible sounds, only a distorted whining noise that he did not realise was coming from his own throat, the only sound his pain-wracked body could utter.
Blinking rapidly to focus his eyes Kenneth fiddled with the lock on his door. It came loose with a jolt and nearly returned him to the floor as it swung inwards. He ran outside as best as he could manage, struggling with his footing without the wall to support him. He stumbled into the pine fence between his garden and his neighbour's, and it easily gave under his weight. On the floor again Kenneth dragged his bulk as best as he could with his right arm, his left still useless beneath him. But the strain was finally taking its toll on Kenneth's body. As his mind ceased to feel the pain of his failing body Kenneth dreamily closed his eyes for the last time.

* * * * *

Doctor Richard Bernard was relaxing with his wife Eileen, who was curled up into him on the sofa. They were not watching the football, but had instead rented a slushy romance film (her choice, not his) and were watching it by candlelight. They rarely got to spend quality time together like this any more. Richard's job at Stoke City General kept him on erratic shifts, while Eileen's job lecturing at Keele University kept her at work during the majority of the day, what with the research she was constantly doing at the library there. And if the price for spending time like this with his wife was that he had to watch the latest Pride and Prejudice remake rather than the new Die Hard flick then it was a price he was more than willing to pay it. Besides when it finished he had the perfect horror film in mind to get her cowering into him: Tombs of the Blind Dead, the same movie they had seen all those years ago after they left the library where they had both been studying, and had decided to watch the media society's annual Halloween film festival. And if he could duplicate the results of that evening he would be a very happy man indeed.
But alas, some things are not meant to be.
'What the hell was that?', Eileen asked in reference to the sudden noise outside, 'Was that a car crash?'
'I'm not sure babe, it sounded closer to the house than that.' Richard replied, standing up and walking cautiously towards the window. He gingerly peeled back the curtain and was genuinely shocked by the sight he beheld.
Richard instantly recognised Kenneth's form, even in the dark glow of the damaged streetlamp. He could also see his fence crushed beneath Kenneth, but it seemed oddly coloured. Before he knew it he was rushing for the door.
'Richard, what is it? What's happened?', Eileen called after him as he bounded out of the door and into the hall.
'Call an ambulance!', he shouted back, flinging open the front door and bounding towards Kenneth. He was now every bit the stress-forged surgeon, immediately taking in the situation. The remains of the fence were splattered with blood but he could see no obvious wounds. Kenneth himself was face down in the ground. Richard reached down and felt for a pulse. He couldn't find one and so instinctively turned Kenneth over to begin CPR.
Once Kenneth was on his back Richard noticed that his mouth and nostrils were flecked with blood, suggesting that the blood had come from Kenneth. He couldn't think of anything from the top of his head that would cause a patient to vomit blood and collapse into unconsciousness. He put it to the back of his mind and began chest compressions.
Eileen rushed out onto the lawn. 'I rang the ambulance,' she called to him, 'they say they'll be here soon.' She inched closer, tilting her head to get a better look. 'Oh my God!' she gasped, 'Is that Kenneth?' Richard, desperately trying to keep the rhythm of the chest compressions and inhalations on Kenneth, didn't answer her question.
'Richard stop he's okay.' Eileen called suddenly.
'No, he isn't! He's not breathing!' Richard angrily, perhaps too angrily he thought, shouted back.
'But he's awake, look!'
Richard slowly stopped the compressions and turned to look at Kenneth's face. His eyes were open, suggesting that he was indeed awake, but his eyes were unfocused and lolling at odd angles. There was no movement from Kenneth's chest to suggest he was breathing, but there was a low, rasping sound coming from his mouth. He realised that it was merely a reflex, or a death rattle, and that he had failed. Kenneth Carpenter was dead.
He looked at his watch to record the time of death, but something grabbed him. He turned to see Kenneth holding his forearm and pulling himself up from his prone position. Richard didn't understand, Kenneth had had no pulse for several minutes at least and should not be able to sit up without any apparent ill effects.
'See,' said his pleased wife, 'I told you he was okay.'
With an animalistic snarl Kenneth suddenly lunged at Richard, his teeth clamping on to Richard's neck and closing with a crushing certainty, easily breaking the skin and sending a large jet of blood shooting from Richard's neck. Eileen screamed as Richard felt the flesh of his neck being torn away in Kenneth's jaws as he withdrew. Then suddenly he saw it as Kenneth's face came into view. He could see his blood smeared on Kenneth's face. He could see the ragged and torn flesh, his own flesh, hanging out of Kenneth's bulging cheeks as he chewed.
Richard fell to the side, convulsing. He caught sight of torrents of his own blood staining his clothes as he crumpled to the floor. Kenneth suddenly lurched into view, his mouth open to bite again and Richard realised that whatever this thing that was Kenneth had now become, it was eating him alive.
At that he fainted, his consciousness fading to black, the last sounds he would ever hear being sounds that would soon echo around the country: the anguished screams of a loved one, and the hungry moan of the creature as it feasted upon him.

* * * * *

Later that evening, as the police descended on the scene, alerted by a neighbour's phone call after he noticed the blood while walking his dog, a lone woman moved through the gathering crowd of bystanders. Edging her way to the police cordon, the well-dressed woman peered at what she could see of the scene. Both houses had their doors flung open, the wooden fence between the gardens was in ruins, and a large pool of blood covered the path, with bloody footprints leading down the road before fading.
The well-dressed woman immediately turned and headed back through the crowd. Moving with a purpose, she forced people aside as she moved. Once she was away from the crowd she took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching before pulling out her mobile and dialling. After ringing several times the phone was answered.
'Sir? It's about subject 861. We may have a problem.'