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Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Day 49: Time for me to Give San Antonio a chance.


The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good

     I'm probably the last to admit this, and I know when my wife reads this tomorrow, she is going to say "DUH!".  I didn't really give San Antonio a chance.  I cam here with a closed mind and a closed heart.  Then this was compounded by the fact that I had to live with my in-laws for six months BEFORE MY WIFE MOVED HERE!  Talk about hell for any man!  I wouldn't want to live with my family for six weeks, let alone someone else's family for six months.  And that was just before my wife moved here.  We ALL had to live there for another 4 months after that.  Not easy.  Not fun.  Add on top of that the prejudice Texans have for Californians that kept me from gaining employment in my primary profession.  My mind was definitely closed to the city that had closed itself off to me.  That's how it felt.
     San Antonio, I am offering to let bygones be bygones.  I won't ask for an apology, because it will just piss me off more when I don't get it.  I will accept your shallowness and move on.  I will make an effort to see the beauty and great things you have to offer.  Obviously it isn't going to be employment!  I have found that elsewhere and you know what?  It's YOUR loss San Antonio.  You almost broke me SA.  You will never know exactly how close you came.  But guess what?  I beat you!  I have found employment for a company that benefits you none at all.  So really, I get the last laugh in this one!  So, now that I have won, I am offering you peace if you submit to my demands.  Each and every one of them.
     1)  You will no longer make me feel like an outsider in what is obviously going to be my hometown for awhile.
     2)  You will submit to my desires to once again own a home with a yard big enough to have a real garden.
     3)  You will continue to allow me to meet interesting and new people who are not as narrow minded as you are.  This will in turn allow me to open my mind and heart to you.  Up until now, the only good thing about SA has been the people I have met, that didn't know I was from California until after it was too late for them to dismiss me as a stereotype.
     4)  You will accept my apology for being closed minded for the past two years.  I will attempt to find the bright spots and avoid the dark ones.
     5) You won't take it personal if I don't agree with everything you stand for.  And I in turn will not hold it against you that you haven't caught up culturally with the rest of the country.  I will seek out the pockets of culture that have kept up with the world.
     Do we have a deal San Antonio?  I'll be waiting to hear your answer!  I am opening my heart and mind to the possibilities!

The Bad
On Hiatus until 12/16/10

The Writing

Focusing on Just Another Zombie Love Story tonight.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Day 48: Just Another Zombie Love Story, Potential peer reviews.

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good

I am honestly in a fog right now as what to write.  I can't think of anything to be positive about today.  That doesn't mean I am being negative, it just means that nothing particularly interesting happened today.  I sat in my living room and worked all day.  Then I made some soup from scratch, and now it's time to write until bedtime.

Actually, I will write until I hit my word goal for the night (2,000 words) and then I will put the laptop aside and read the new Stephen King book.

I am excited to have shared "Just Another Zombie Love Story" with two of my best friends.  I'll have to wait for them to read it to see what they think of it (obviously), but the fact that they now have every word I've written in the story, makes me smile.

I also reconnected with a friend of my mother's yesterday.  A woman whom had a big part in raising me.  Not in the being there every day sense, but in the, "I really care what this woman thinks about what I am making of my life" sense.  I can't wait to send her the story.  I am eager to hear her feedback.  It will mean a lot to me.

And as I have said before, if any of you reading this would like to read what I have written thus far, just let me know.  You can catch the first third of it around the 22nd of October I believe here in this blog.  Or just drop me an email, and I will be more than happy to email it to you.

The Bad

On hiatus until 12/16/10.

The Writing

Not sure what to post here.  My mind is getting into gear for adding another 10 pages to "Just Another Zombie Love Story".
Did anyone read the prologue for Deja Morte?  What did you think?

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon

Monday, November 15, 2010

Day 47: My Least favorite personal trait and a few things I hate

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
      I have a serious character fault.One that gets pointed out to me on a fairly regular basis.  I come by it naturally.  I inherited it from my mother.  And now I realize the cycle is complete.  I have become my mother. The worst part about it?  I have always hated this quality in her.  And now I am mired down by it.  The person I truly want to be doesn't have this character flaw.  He has plenty of others, but not this one.
     So about now you must be thinking two things.  1) What is this horrible flaw? and 2) Why is he going through this lament in "The Good" section of the blog.  Is he drinking?  And the answer to that last is yes, but that is beside the point.  The answer to number 2 is easy.  This is in "The Good" section because I decided today to do something about it.  I will outline here what I am going to do about it.  I am hoping to lessen the fault.  I have no delusions that I can ever banish this evil from my personality completely.  But I would like to grow out of letting it weigh me down constantly.  I am tired of being thought of as this type of person.
     Ok, enough with the suspense.  I am an extremely negative person.  I always find the bad in something.  I feel like Jim Carrey in "Yes Man".  I am an extreme pessimist.  I am never happy with my situation.  I can find some good things with that, but I don't think that others would understand (See?).  So, rather than try to beat the positive people down more than I already have, I am going to try to join them in their positive bliss.  I figure, that changing my evening habits in order to get writing back into my life worked and motivated me to really and truly pursue my dream, and if that worked, maybe changing my behavior and verbal interactions will help me to actually be a more optimistic person.
     So, my plan is this.  Starting tomorrow I am going to make every effort to be positive about everything.  No negative comments (not sure I'll be able to do that in Lady Gaga's case, but I will try).  I will try to enjoy her for what she is - a creation of the record company who has no real talent of her own.  But she makes people happy, so that is the positive I am going to have to put on it.  And rather than trying to figure out why she makes people happy and picking apart all of their reasons, I will just say to myself, "Self, Lady Gaga makes them happy.  their reasons are their own.  She doesn't make you happy.  You don't have to like her.  But don't ruin someone else's enjoyment of her "music".  Musically, this is going to be the hard for me.
     No more bashing San Antonio and its horrible drivers.  I'll just grin at the idiots as they struggle to understand basic driving concepts like merging onto and exiting from the freeway.  They can be just a little retarded, and I should just be proud of them because they are able to get around on their own.  I am going to have to get creative and let's see how long I can make this work.  I am going to have to tell myself lots of stories.  I am going to try and make it a full thirty days.  So by the time holiday shopping is in full swing, I should have conditioned myself to be able to look at the women fighting over the last Harry Potter Doll and think to myself, "How nice.  Those women are really dedicated to pursuing their career in the WWE.
     This isn't going to be easy.  At least that is what I say tonight.  Tomorrow I will have to tell myself that there is no other way, but to find the bright side.  Yippee, I have to spend $2000 on a complete break job and engine rebuild.  That means that my car is going to be safer that it was today.  Wow, I had better be the best damn story teller in the world if I am to change this deeply ingrained negativity.
     Wish me luck!

The Bad
Tonight is my last night to bitch about ANYTHING on here until 12/16.  So here is a list of things that I truly hate:

Lady Gaga
Kings of Leon (These guys are the ones that caused me to decide to try this, when I heard them today)
Stores that start selling Xmas decorations before Halloween
San Antonio Drivers (This one may not be too hard to get over, since I think most of them really are mentally    challenged)
Most Hip Hop
Most Rap
Most Pop
Stupid People (Beware - If we are talking and I just inexplicably start grinning and nodding, it means I am creating an interesting story in my head as to why you are such a fucking idiot)
I could go on and on all night long, but it is now 10pm and I haven't begun writing in my novel yet.  I have a goal of about 2000 words tonight.

The Writing

new fiction is going into "Just Another Zombie Love Story" tonight.  I think a particularly boring part is approaching in the book and I have to find a way to liven it up.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Sunday, November 14, 2010

Day 46: Mental Exhaustion because of NaNoWriMo, and the Deja Morte Prologue

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
I just finished writing my ass off in my Zombie Apocalypse novel and I am fucking exhausted.  I wrote over 13k words this weekend.  I am proud of myself and humbled thinking about writers who get to do this for a living.  Creating something out of nothing really is a difficult job.
I think I have decided on a title for the book.  Let me know what you think.  those of you who have read parts of it at least.  And the rest of you, drop me an email and I'll send you what I've written thus far.  Anyway, the working title is "Just Another Zombie Love Story"

Whatcha think?

The Bad

Can't think of anything right now.

The Writing

Here is the prologue to the novel that I started 7 years ago.  And I still feel it is going to be the best thing I ever write.  I just have to finish it.  Keep in mind as you read this, I have not edited it.  I wrote it in a flourish one evening after I was a full two chapters into the book, and the setting is about 800AD.

Deja Morte


In the deep forest lay an immense ring of stones.  How long they had lain there is not known by any that currently draw breath.  In the center of this ring a smaller ring of smaller stones.  The flames rising from the center of this circle of stone lick at the bows of the trees above.  The thirteen individuals kneeling around the pit of flame forming a circle halfway between the two of stone.  From above only the cloaked backs, head and arms are visible.  From outside the circle the monk-like individuals can be seen in better detail.  Each has right knee on the soil.  Leg extending straight behind them.  Left foot planted six inches from right knee.  Chest resting on left knee.  Black hooded head level with the ground.  No faces visible from behind or above.  Arms outstretched with fingertips a mere half inch from the fingertips of the worshippers to left and right.  Arms, spine and head forming a circle of crucifixes around the fire.  Yet, this is obviously no Christian ceremony.  These thirteen are no monks.  Who they are is not clear.  Nor will it ever become clear.  For there are no outside observers to this ceremony.  There will be no witnesses to the massacre that is soon to follow. 
The twelve men and lone woman have waited.  They have listened and watched for the signs.  For a millennia they and those before them have waited.  Tonight!  This cloudless night.  The night foretold when the full moon will disappear from the sky.  Thirteen kneel before the flames chanting.  Thirteen, the required number.  The chanting growing louder with each passing minute.  The thirteen chosen followers never growing tired.  Ignoring the pain in their bodies from the minutes turning to hours in the worship position.  These humans becoming oblivious to the pain.  The pain transferring from their body to the entity forming in the fire.
The moon begins to slowly disappear from the night.  The worshippers pain no notice.  Somehow this occurrence coincides with a volume increase in the chanting.  Energy flowing to the fire from the ring of worshippers.  The rising flames inducing the cloaked individuals deeper into their trance.  Their rising chants emanating into the forest all around.
The moon completely eclipsed in the Earth’s shadow.  The light of the fire the only light in the forest.  However, the light from this fire will not penetrate beyond the outer ring of stones.  The fuel for this fire being both natural and supernatural.  The energy leeching from the worshippers increasing.  The ring becoming brighter.  The forest beyond becoming darker.  The only light without coming from the starlight.  Within the circle the sound coming from the flames begins to transform from crackling and popping of the natural wood fuel, to the sound of the pure agony of the energy absorbed from the bodies of the circle of unholy clerics.  The sound of pain.  The chanting likewise now seeming to come from within the fire outward instead of from the circle of prostrate beings inward toward the central pyre.  Not a funeral pyre, but a rebirthing pyre.  With the world plunged into total blackness outside the unholy ring of stone, the chanting reaches its crescendo.  The sounds no longer issuing forth from those outside the fire, but their voices now siphoned into the flames. 
The fire suddenly extinguishes.  Plunging the ring into the same darkness as the rest of the forest.  This darkness is followed by a flash of light that lights the ring and the forest beyond with the brightness of midday.  Light and energy both speed outward from the center of the three rings.  The human ring blown in all directions.  Each individual thrown forcefully through the air out of the ring of stones.  Three or four of these flew into large oaks.  Some back first, snapping vertebrae and falling immobile to the base of the trees.  Some catching legs on the branches and trunks of the trees as they were hurled through the air.  One particularly unlucky individual flew straight onto a large branch.  Severing his spine and impaling him against the tree.  Blood and entrails falling out onto the branch sticking out of his stomach.  Slowly bleeding to death.  Those lucky enough to not collide with trees land outside the ring, 30 feet from where they had been kneeling.
Where flames had been, now only darkness in its place.  Yet a blackness that could not have been created by mere shadows alone.  Pure black energy created and sustained by the ceremony.  Amorphous at first, slowly a familiar shape begins to form.  Two shadow legs standing atop two shadow feet, supporting the shadow shape of an enormous man-shape.  Shadows have no features.  No depth.  This shadow was no different.  This shadow, however, has eyes.  Crimson eyes.  The shadow head turns this way and that.  Scanning the forest all around.  When it takes its first step from the innermost circle, the humans not knocked unconscious or otherwise incapacitated began to regain control of their own faculties. 
A starlit sky above.  Starlight the only light whatsoever.  Yet there is darkness and there is darkness.  Before the fumbling robed men and woman can regain complete control the ultimate darkness falls upon them one by one. 
Priestess Bathora hears one scream after another from all around the circle.  The sounds of men dying.  The sounds of an animal killing.  She hears snarling.  She hears no words.  No pleading.  Only the sounds of death from her followers.  All as foretold.  Soon her end would be met.  But not as these sacrifices of lesser beings.  Hers would be a beginning and an end.  She was to give birth to this being they had brought into existence.  She was to be the conduit to turn energy and evil into flesh and blood. 
The forest grew silent.  The screams ceased.  The snarling became panting.  The panting neared.  Bathora was silent.  The panting grew closer.  Now she could feel breath.  Rank, hot breath.  The breathing upon her.  The sound becoming a guttural growl right in her face.  Her eyes were closed yet she could “see” what approached.  An evil she was destined to birth.  An evil she was to unleash upon the world.  An evil that would take her life in the process.
She was thrown to the ground.  She felt not what had done it.  She felt no hands on her.  No claws.  Only that rank breath.  Always in her face.  She was not aware that her robe had been ripped from her as she flew through the air from the “birth” of the energy from the fire.  She could see nothing with her eyes.  She could see it in her mind.  She could see its every intention in her head.  She could sense its lust.  This latter she sensed just before it penetrated her.  Slamming through her hymen.  She screamed.  The pain intense.  It thrust deeper into her unspoiled body.  Unspoiled no longer.  Blood spilling onto the ground beneath her.  The pain driving her toward unconsciousness.  Before she could black out, however, the blackness clamped onto her mind with its.
You will not sleep.  You will feel.” It growled into her mind. 
She was then aware of a door inside her mind being slammed shut.  Keeping her from seeking peace in unconsciousness.  She began screaming.  Trying to release the pain.  It fed on the pain.  Filled her more and more.  Using her body.  Each thrust slamming deeper into her.  More of it being absorbed into her.  Then the laughing in her head began.  The maniacal laughing of this beast.  Raping her body as was foretold.  She thought she was prepared for this.  Had in fact been preparing for this for twenty two years since the night of the dream on her ninth birthday.  No amount of preparation could have readied her for this ravaging.  Each thrust more of his essence seeped into her.  Filling her womb.
She was aware that the pain in her body had ceased.  The pain in her mind now all the more intense.  She was now not alone in her skin.  She had that thing in her womb.  Already growing flesh and bones.  Her screaming continued.  Now she prayed to a god she had forsaken two decades before.  She prayed to be struck down.  She prayed for unconsciousness.  She prayed for the flesh growing inside her to disappear.  She prayed for the ability to go back and be saved from this fate. 
As if in answer to these pleas her body was wracked with pain anew.  Her naked belly growing.  She could feel it growing.  The fetus inside her feeding on her.  Not as a natural unborn child would.  For this child was anything but natural.  It was quite literally eating her from the inside out.  And still the freedom of unconsciousness would not come.  The pain threshold met, her body went into shock.  Her mind however was still being violated by this monster.  She was shown visions of the death and destruction her womb was about to release into the world.  And at that moment her distended belly ruptured.  Out of the carnage came not a child, but a beast beyond description.  It was more mouth than anything else.  A mouth that immediately began to devour its mother/mate.
When the moon reappeared from behind the shadow of the earth there were no monk-like figures.  There were tattered robes.  There was a great amount of blood staining the soil.  Time would cover that evidence.  The world was less thirteen extremely misled individuals.  It was, on the other hand, plus one great new evil.

good night all.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Day 45:NaNoWriMo progress, Wife still out of town

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
     Anyone who has read any of my posts today already know what I am jazzed about today.  I wrote more today, than I have in any one day in my life.  7,000 words in my novel, not to mention what I am going to write here right now.  Just to give you an idea of how much 7,000 hundred words is: that's about 28 pages in a novel.  Give or take.  I'm doing this as part of the NaNoWriMo, yes, but I am also doing it for myself.  I want to grow as a writer.  I want to complete a lengthy writing project.  And this one is farther along than anything I have ever written.  I am now a little more than one hundred pages into this thing, And I think I am also a little more than halfway done with it.  This has been quite a daunting experience and the month isn't even half over yet.  That and there is still so much story left to tell.  At least I think there is.  You see, when I write a story, I let the characters guide it through its paces.  I honestly don't know yet, which characters left are going to die if any, or all of them.  That wouldn't be unheard of for a zombie story.  After all, it is the apocalypse and the story is set in the latter part of 2012.  And you all know what that means.  Wink wink.
     My brain is pretty fried right now.  So I am going to keep this pretty short tonight.  I wrote a lot today.  I am so very excited about that fact. I'm ready for this story to come to life more before my very eyes.  I hope that someday you all will get to read the finished product.  I suppose writing the story is the easy part.  And believe me, it hasn't been easy.  Writing is very rewarding for me.  It allows me to be creative.  Something my accounting job doesn't.  Tomorrow will be more of the same.  Except I am going to get up early enough to hit the gym before going to Barnes & Noble to write for 3 hours straight before lunch.  And then back home for another 3 or so hours of writing.  Word counts.  All this talk about them must be boring you to tears.  Tough! There are a million billion other webpages out there that don't use the words word or count in them.  There are probably a million that don't even have words on them.  Guess what?  You are on my blog right now, reading my random words.  And if you are still reading and haven't clicked one of those buttons at the top of your browser.  Thank you.  I appreciate your time.  I know time is a valuable commodity.

The Bad

Sleeping alone.  My wife is in Vegas for one more night and for the second night in a row, I have to sleep in our bed alone.  And guess what?  Like that chick in the British Zombie Mini Series, "Dead Set",  "I don't liiiike it!"

The Writing

Nothing left to give fiction wise tonight.  Hopefully Monday night will be better.  i expect tomorrow I will feel similar to tonight, as I am shooting for another 6,000 words or so in the Zombie novel.

Good night readers.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Thursday, November 11, 2010

Day 43: The death and rebirth of creativity in a man, and Hey, San Antonio doesn't suck so bad anymore.


The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
As inspired as ever to complete the NaNoWriMo.  I will not be Week Two'd.  I am going to complete my Zombie novel this month.  And then I am going to let it sit for one month, then I am going to edit the shit out of it.  2011 is going to be the year you all see my name on the cover of book, that you all may purchase.  2011 is going to be the year I finally make the most of my talents.
     I used to think those talents were limited to academia type stuff.  I excelled in school.  I really enjoyed learning.  Then I discovered that I was good at accounting.  Which is again a very non creative aspect to my talents.  There my life stagnated for fifteen years or so.  Then I picked up a speed pourer and learned to make a few drinks.  And in Vegas I thrived emotionally as a creator of drinks for the free spirits, and those that have temporarily decided to become free spirits.  It was in this profession that I discovered a lot about myself.  The biggest thing I learned was that I am a social person.  An accountant by day and a bartender at night and on the weekends.  I don't think I need to tell anyone which of those professions I preferred - and still prefer.  I love interacting with people.  I should know that.  It is what I got in trouble for all the time in school.  But somehow sitting in a cubicle killed my spirit.  And I rediscovered it.
     Then I moved to San Antonio 23 months ago.  And I can't say it has been a particularly positive experience for me.  It has taken me until just this past month to find the positives.  I've learned a lot about classic cocktail making and how to craft a great drink.  Before, in Vegas I learned how to get people shit-faced.  Here I learned how to understand the drinks and the spirits and appreciate them for what they are - finely crafted pieces meant to be showcased just like any great chef's great dishes.  I feel knowledgeable enough to take on a cocktail project or two.  Once my novel has been written that is.
     One of these projects would never have come about if I hadn't moved here.  I am now asking whatever god there is to grant me the endurance to see first this month through, and then next month.  I want to have one novel first draft completed by the end of this month, and all the material I need for the second project by the time my birthday rolls around.  And by the by, that would be the middle of January.

The Bad

The Writing
I am going to cease posting my zombie novel in the blog as I write it.  If I want to get it published, I think I need to stop where I am.  I may even have to take what I have posted down.  I need to do a little more research on the subject.  I really would hate to not be able to publish this because of some stupid technicality.
If any of you would like to read what I have written in it drop me an email and I'll spill my heart out that way.

So now as my friend said about fifty times Monday night, "Without further ado", I am going to sign off and get to some real writing.  I just had to get all that stuff out tonight, since I am really feeling blessed for a change.  And I don't HATE San Antonio anymore.  I don't love it yet either, but give me time.  Who knows.  I think it is going to be the first stepping stone to great things.  And for that it will always have a place in my heart.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Day 41:S.E.T. Tasting, Wifey in Vegas, Behind on my writing, and no writing post (yet)

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
1) SET Tasting - Last night was the monthly meeting of the Spirit Enthusiasts of Texas.  An organization that is bound and determined to elevate the drinking habits of the public at large starting with the local "cocktail scene".  I love these events, even though I don't get to attend them every month.  Being the busy boy that I am.  Last night we tried some classic French cocktails and cocktails inspired by the great nation of France.  In the past we have tasted all of the spirits - Whisky, Whiskey, Cognac, Gin, Vodka, Tequila, Rum (I assume, though I missed that one), Beer.  And these tastings have been utterly fantastic.  We've learned a lot about the spirits and the cocktails we have tasted.
    My only complaint is that the organizers claim it is NOT an elitist group, it is only mostly the same individuals at each tasting.  And these are 90% industry individuals.  I believe this is where the education on the spirits needs to begin, but I fear the group is going to become stagnant and fall short of it's goals if it doesn't reach out to the public in some way.  I sincerely hope that the group continues (and I have no reason to doubt that it will) and expands to more broad seminars for the public.  This may be a scary proposition for the group that runs this organization, but I firmly believe in what they stand for and also firmly believe that they need to expand in order for the craving for well crafted drinks to virally begin to thrive here in San Antonio.

2) This weekend, my wife is going to be in Las Vegas helping her friend pick out a wedding dress for her wedding next year.  My step son is going to be with his father's family for the weekend.  Where does that leave me?  Potentially lonely and with WAY too much time on my hands.  I think I am going to focus on the positive this time around.  I am going to be focusing all of my powers on good instead of evil for 2 1/2 days.  On tap is going to be writing and working on my "other project" that I have alluded to in past blogs.  Friday night I will be dropping off my wife at the airport and heading to a bar where my friend tends.  I am hoping to have a great discussion that will lead to actually starting this project. Saturday and Sunday are going to be dedicated to writing writing writing.  I will be extremely disappointed if I don't get 10,000 words written.  There will be no excuses for failing to meet this goal.  There will be no distractions, no plans and no wife.  While the lack of wife would normally be a bad thing, I am going to turn it into a positive and advance my novel beyond the point where it is now and beyond the point I have ever gotten any piece of fiction I have written.

The Bad
I didn't blog or write last night.  I had a night out with good friends instead (see "The Good")  This means I am now behind in my novel for the NaNoWriMo.  I need to kick it up a notch tonight.  Shall I shoot for 3000 words?  yikes.  I don't like the feeling of being behind in my writing.  I feel this is a real opportunity for me to make a go at my dream, and me falling behind is quite discouraging.  However, I will persevere!

The Writing
I might post what I write tonight here later.  Check I will repost if I make changes to this section.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Sunday, November 7, 2010

Day 39: NaNo, and the writing gets a little intense.

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
I am sitting with a bunch of aspiring writers at the Yardhouse.  I am spending too much time talking ABOUT writing and not enough time actually writing.

The Bad

The Writing

                Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.  That was some fucked up shit.  I went through the wall.  What a mess.  First of all, it was WAY easier than I figured it would be to get through.  One full forced whack with a hammer and I had the hole I needed.  Yanking chunks of drywall with the claw of the hammer until I was left with a hole from the floor to just above my head.  And from stud to stud on either side.  So I would have to fit through sideways, since I am broader than sixteen inches.  As I was yanking drywall, I was also yanking the pink insulation shit out as well.  No wonder I could hear my neighbors fucking all the time.  The walls really do consist of drywall, insulation, drywall.  Time to get a house.  Oh wait, I might be able to take my pick now.
                After I cleared out the space between the drywall, I hit the back of the other wall with the hammer.  It went through like it did on my side, but then it hit something on the other side.  I was worried it was going to be a big ass bureau or something.  It wound up being just a mirror on the wall.  My second hit apparently broke the mirror from behind and sprayed shards of glass all over the room.  I guess I don’t know my own strength.  I started to pull chucks of drywall like I had on my side.  At first from behind the mirror, and then down the wall.
                Well, I had no warning.  Here I am breaking off chunk after chunk of drywall and all of a sudden the mirror fell away and my neighbor’s little boy appeared and jumped through the whole.  The little fucker moved faster than any of the others I’d seen.  He jumped though the hole in the wall and onto me.  I slipped on a bit of drywall and fell to my back.  His teeth gnashed at me.  He tried to take a bite out of my arm.  I rammed the hammer sideways into his mouth like a horse bit.  I heard a crunch, but he didn’t register any pain.  He just kept trying to take a chunk of flesh from me.  I managed to throw him off to the side against my bed.  He was up in a flash, intent on making me his breakfast.  He was covered in blood already.  He looked similar to the rest of them.  Pale skin, with dark shadows around his eyes.  He didn’t look as emaciated as the ones outside.  Of course I didn’t have time to register that at the time.  Because that was when his head caved in and he crumpled to the floor.  Then I noticed that Jessica was standing there with a softball bat in a batter’s stance.  She just hit one out of the park as far as I’m concerned.  The boy began to move again.  Jess swung the bat over her head and brought it full force on the boy’s forehead with a grunt of effort.  There was a loud crunch and I could see his head cave in from the force of the blow.
                “Jess, thank you.  I owe you one for sure.”
                “No, I call it even now.  You got me out of my apartment.  Now let’s see if there is anything worth this over there.  I don’t think I want to be here anymore.”
                I just gawked at her.  I pulled myself together and stood up.  I looked from her to the remains of the boy on the floor, to the hole in the wall and back to her.  “That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.   Let’s get this over with, see if we can find any weapons or anything that makes this,” I motioned to the mess on my bedroom floor, “worth it.”
                She nodded and motioned to the hole in the wall.  I went back to work on the drywall.  This time, more cautiously.  I was taking my time to listen to the room on the other side.  This turned out to be a waste of time.  There was no one left alive.  And no one returned as a member of the flesh eating undead.  I finished the man sized hole and moved the mirror to the side and peered into the room.  What a gory sight.  My neighbors in bed.  Blood everywhere.  The little boy had apparently been munching on them for a couple days now.  They weren’t really recognizable as my neighbors.  I am just assuming it was them.
                I surveyed the room quickly and saw no movement.  I fully entered the room, my heart racing with fear and adrenaline.  I can’t believe their little kid did this.  The little monster I corrected myself immediately following this thought.  Jess really stepped up and probably saved my life. 
                Phil and Maggie were on the bed with their insides strewn all about the bed.  They were naked as far as I could tell through the blood and chunks of meat.  That little shit really did all that.  I walked closer to them to make sure they weren’t going to get up and come after me.  That wasn’t going to be an issue.  As I got closer I noticed the two blood and brain splatters on the wall behind and above them.  I couldn’t understand this at first and I may never fully comprehend it.  My best guess is that when their son died they offed themselves?  I always thought his macho show was just that.  A show.  What a weakling.  No sense of duty beyond his own self. 
Ok, one piece of information known so far this morning.  Braining them works to put them down.    Now to see what there is to pillage from this apartment.  First, to find the gun they used.  It took a little searching.  I found it in the bloody mess between the two of them.  I’ve never been squeamish around blood, but the blood and the smell combination was too much.  I don’t know how long they had been dead, but the stench was bad.  I don’t even know how to describe it.  I’ve never wondered what the smell was like, but have seen a lot of actors trying to portray the smell on film.  It was worse than I could have ever imagined.  There was the coppery smell of the blood as well as the smell of shit.  I can only assume that is from their colons being ripped open.  That thought did it.  Picturing that little boy ripping into flesh tubes full of shit caused my stomach to clench and empty its contents onto the floor.  Adding to the bloody mess already there.
“Are you alright,” came Jessica’s voice from behind the mirror.
“Yeah, just losing my breakfast.  It’s bad in here.  My neighbors killed themselves.  Let’s try to keep our voices down.  Everything sounds so much louder now.  Have you noticed that?” I asked in low hoarse tones after my stomach finished convulsing.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.  Do you need my help?”
“No, I think I can get out of here in ten minutes.  I’ll bring everything I find back to you.”
“Ok Steve, please be careful.  I don’t want to lose you.”
There was a touch of compassion in her tone and it did a lot to lift my heart.  Maybe I can be the hero in this after all – eventually. 
I saw the butt of the gun laying sticking out of the blood and guts between the Hernandez’.  I reached down and grabbed it with my thumb and forefinger.  I lifted it and went to the foot of the bed.  I have never held a gun before – I know, I’m probably the only male over the age of 10 in Texas that hasn’t – and it was not nearly as heavy as I thought it would be.  I bent down at the end of the bed and used the comforter to wipe it off as best I could.  Note to self – look up whether you can get this kind of gun, whatever it is, wet.  I need to thoroughly clean it.  It is still quite sticky.
                I went to the closet first and found exactly what I was hoping for in there.  And in exactly the condition I was hoping to find it.  A gun safe standing open.  My bloody lucky day.  Inside, it wasn’t the national guard armory I was hoping for, but it was more than I had for sure.  There was another handgun, I think it’s called a glock – I have to look it up.  A shotgun – that one I am sure of.  And standing next to the shotgun were two rifles with big looking scopes on them.  There were two shelves at the back of the safe that were full of ammunition for these guns.  At the bottom of the safe there was a large bag.  I pulled this out first and opened it on the floor.  There were a couple of tools in it.  I have no idea what they are for – more to research.  I left them in and added to them the three large guns.  I also set the bloody gun in it as well.  I kept the clean gun in my hand and shoved all the boxes of shells into the bag.
                Holy shit that bag is heavy.  Good thing the adrenaline hadn’t fully subsided in my system.  I lugged it over to the mirror and slid it to the side and peered into my bedroom.  First I saw the bloody mess of the boy and then Jess sitting on my mattress with her face in her hands.  She was crying.
                “Jess, you ok?” I knew it was a stupid question as soon as it came out of my mouth.  And when she raised her head out of her hands and glared at me, I knew not to ask that question again.
                “Steve, I’m not going to answer that one.  I can’t stay here tonight.  I don’t feel safe here anymore.”  The tears were streaming down her face, but there was a hardness that overshadowed the tear streaked exterior.  “Steve, we have to go today.  I don’t care where, but we have to go.”
                “My thoughts exactly.  It isn’t going to be fun or easy, but I agree completely!  Here.”  I struggled to get the duffle bag through the hole in the wall.  Do you think you can drag this over to where the other ones are?  We are at least armed now.”
                Her face unsunk and the hardness shone through all the more. “What did you find?”
                “I don’t know what they all are, but I think I can figure out how to use them.” I looked at her apologetically, “I’ve never held a gun before.  I am going to look for more supplies now.  Ten, fifteen minutes tops and we can start figuring out how to get out of here.”  I tried to give her a smile, but I’m sure it came across as a grimace. 
                She got off the bed and came over to the hole, put her hands on both sides of it and leaned in and to my amazement, planted a kiss on my mouth.  I barely had time to respond in kind when she pulled away, reaching down to grab the bag and begin half dragging and half carrying it back across the room toward the living room.  Not a word.  But my spirits soared.
                I was crouching there for a second to watch her move from the room and admire her ass as she did it.  I’m still a guy, no matter what is going on around me right?  I turned and was brought back down from the cloud of lust in an instant when I again saw the room around me.
                Back to the closet.  I wasn’t interested in the clothes so shoved them to the side as best I could.  These two had a ton of clothes.  Odd since I only ever saw him in uniform and her, being a housewife, in sweats ninety percent of the time.  There was another duffle bag on the floor.  My lucky day so far for sure.  I grabbed it and opened it.  Empty.  Damn!  I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but I figured a miracle could very well be in order.  I looked for a couple more seconds and found nothing else of interest in the closet so surveyed the room again.
                I had to get out of there.  The blood and stench was too much.  My euphoria was wearing off being in there.  Beyond the mirror I could hear the duffle bag full of guns being shuffled.  The sound was way too loud.  I didn’t have time to marvel at how sound is relative.  Not at that moment at least.  Now I do.  When silence is pretty absolute, it is amazing how loud every little sound that breaks that silence is amplified.
                I walked to the bedroom door that was ajar and opened it with my foot.  I had the gun raised and ready for anything.  Nothing, just their living room.  It would appear that their apartment was the mirror image of my own.  That helped.  I went straight to their pantry and found a ton of canned goods.  Too heavy.  We already had five heavy bags.  There were a few food items that I had to take.  Mostly comfort food like a package of Nestle Tollhouse Chewy chocolate Chip Cookies.  Those will be awesome later.  Into the bag.  Peanut butter, check – into the bag. Unopened grape jelly – into the bag.  Saltines – into the bag since we have no bread.  There were a couple other things that I tossed in as well, but we had enough food essentials to last us awhile.
                As I was walking through the living room I heard a sound that stopped me in my tracks and sent a shiver of ice through my veins.   The front doorknob jiggled. Fuck, please be locked.  Please be locked.  Please be locked. I stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the handle moving.  The door didn’t open.  That was encouraging.  Hopefully it was locked and not just their inability to turn it fully.  Looking back, I probably should have gone down there to double check.  Hindsight being 20/20 and all. 
                Encouraged yet scared into action I went on to the second bedroom.  Nope, that was the kid’s room.  I skipped that one. And went into the bedroom at the end of the hall.  Phil’s office was immaculate.  He probably didn’t allow Maggie of the boy in there at all with threats of a beating. There was a computer desk, like any that sits in a million office depot shopper’s study’s around the nation.  There was a monitor on top and a place for the PC in a cabinet next to the place where he would sit.  There wasn’t so much as a piece of paper on the desk.
                There were maps on the wall, the US, a world map, and a map of Europe.  There were push pins all over these.  There were pictures of Maggie and Charlie – that’s the boy’s name – on the wall above the desk.  I had to wonder if he put them up there or if Maggie had done it to remind him that he had a family.  He struck me as the type of guy that completely neglects his family, feeling that bringing home a paycheck and keeping the family fed, clothed and housed was enough family duty for him. 
                There wasn’t much else in this room, so I went to the closet.  I opened it and found an anally organized wall of shelves.  Computer parts and tools for the most part were housed on the shelves.  Most of which I already had in our bug out bags.  There were a few items I saw that I had to have.  I tossed in four rolls of duct tape, two cans of WD-40 and riot helmet.  What the fuck?!  Oh well.  It was definitely something that would be handy.  And it made me think of something else to look for in their closest.
                As I was stuffing the helmet into the bag, I heard a noise behind me.  I stood and whirled and pulled the trigger on the gun all at once.  And all that happened was an empty click.  And thank god!  Standing in front of me was Jessica.
                “Fuck!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around her, “I’m so sorry.  You scared the shit out of me.”
                “I’m sorry, I couldn’t be alone any more.  You could have killed me.”  Her voice was quavering with fear and anger all at once.
                “Thank god it isn’t loaded.”
                She pulled back from me and slapped me square in the face.  “That’s for almost killing me.  We aren’t even anymore.  You owe me now big time.”
                “Yes.  I am done in here now.  Let’s go figure out how we are going to get out of here.”  I put my hand on my face and felt the heat from the slap coming off it onto my hand.  I also felt the sting of it all the way to my teeth.  This girl packs a wallop.
                “I wanted to tell you, there are more of them out there now.  I don’t know if they heard us or what, but there are about fifteen or twenty of them trying to get into our apartment and this one as well as the downstairs neighbors.  They are already in down below here.  The door was open I guess.  What are we going to do?”  Her eyes were pleading with me for an answer.
                “Let’s go have a look. I’m sure we can figure something out.” I said it, but I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.  I could have killed this girl.  I followed her out of the room and through the living room, stopping to look down the stairs where the doorknob was being worked more earnestly.  Or maybe that was just my imagination.  Who knows.
                Into the bloody bedroom we went.  Moving the mirror aside and into my (our? Did she say our?) apartment.
                “Wait a second, One more thing I need to check for.” I popped back into the bedroom and ran to the closet and grabbed what I had hoped to find and almost ran back to through the hole in the wall.
                When I got through it, I held out the flak jacket to Jess.
                We now have 6 bags on the stairs by the front door.  I have prioritized them mentally, and now we are getting read to get the fuck outta dodge.
                Status changed from “Available for chat” to “Jake, read my blog, we’ll be there before dark with any luck at all.”

Tuesday, September 18, 2012  7pm (hand written into a spiral notebook)
                Holy shit, it’s been a decade(?) or more since I have written my blog (used to call it a journal) by hand.  Not sure I can do this.  My pencil can’t keep up with my thoughts.  But I have to try.  What an incredible 8 hours!  I can barely believe we made it out of San Antonio alive.  It was close a couple of times.  Especially getting out of the apartment.  Here is where this get’s really geeky, but I think it kept me alive at least.
                I wanted us to have the best chance possible to get into the car with as many of our supplies as possible.  First thing I did was shave my head completely bald.  I don’t want them grabbing onto my hair as I run by them.  That would suck.  I had been growing my hair out for the past year and a half, and it hurt to shave it off in one fell swoop, but I’m taking no chances.  If I hadn’t found the helmet, I would have insisted that she do the same.  That would have been a shame.  Her blond hair fell down to the middle of her back.  But I made sure that she could tuck all of it into the helmet and it still fasten.  I changed into a long sleeve turtleneck and commenced with the duct tape.  All the way down to the wrists.  I kept wrapping until the entire shirt was covered.  There is no way to bite through that.  I made sure not to wrap it too tight, however.  I don’t want movement restricted.  And I wanted to be able to take it off and put it back on as needed.  I did the same with a pair of sweat pants as well.
                After I made the duct tape suit for myself (with a little help from Jess when it was impossible for me to reach certain spots), I helped Jess into the flak jacket.  She had no hesitation, nor embarrassment to strip her shirt off and stand there and let me help her into the jacket in just her bra.  I must admit right here and now, it was agony.  Her skin is so soft.  And that is after a few days of showers with only my men’s soaps and products.  I can imagine how she feels when she is using her girlie stuff.  I digress.  I helped her into the flak jacket and another of my turtlenecks, and commenced duct taping her as well.  The same with another pair of my sweats.  I won’t get sidetracked with a description of the lower half of her body, but rest assured it is burned into my brain like a fine painting that would have made Leonardo da Vinci proud.
                I found a couple pairs of leather gloves that we could use as well.  I surveyed Jess in her full “zombie battle armor” and realized that the chivalry must not be completely dead in me.  I noticed that she was covered from head to toe.  I however would be exposed from the midneck on up.  Jessica looked like an alien invader in her own right.  Hopefully if we run into anyone else they won’t be as afraid of aliens as they are obviously going to be of zombies.
                When we were all decked out in out zombie battle armor, we surveyed outside again.  Not good.  There were still about 20 shamblors within view.  Most had given up trying to get into the apartments.  That was one good thing.  I was hoping that would be the case.  I was worried about getting the bags into the car.  I prioritized them.  The first trip I was going to get the guns into the back and she was going to throw the camping bag in.  If it looked like we could make another trip we were going to get the rest of the bags in a second trip.  But only if it looked like we could do it safely.  Too bad looks can be deceiving right?
                While we were making the suits, we discussed plans to get out of there.  Now we were ready to enact them.  Jessica took up her place at my window and peered through the blinds and I started to walk toward my bedroom.
                “Steve?” I turned and Jess was right in front of me and she threw her arms around me and kissed me deeply.  “Be careful, I’ll do my part, you be careful with your part and hurry safe.”
                “Hurry safe?”  But her lips crushed the question away.  Then she pulled away and walked back to the window.
                If that wasn’t motivation to succeed, I don’t know what is.  I turned and walked into my bedroom.  I stepped over (neighbor boy name) and to the hole in the wall.  I stepped through it with only the bloody handgun on me.  I emerged into the neighbor’s bedroom like a silver cat burglar.  Everything was as it had been a couple hours before.  I went through the bedroom door and into the living room.  The knot of fear in my stomach tightening with each step I took toward the top of the stairs.  My courage was hanging by a thread at that moment.  It probably would have snapped if I had heard the doorknob move.
                That didn’t happen though and the plan moved ahead almost as planned.  I got to the top of the steps and peered down to the front door.  My stomach clenched wanting to wretch again.  The feeling passed and I took the first step down before it could try to sabotage me again.  I got to the bottom of the stairs and looked out the peephole.  There were only two of them in the line of sight of the fish eye.  That worked for me, especially since the closest one was about ten feet away, and the other two were facing the other direction, one of these was actually at my front door, pawing at the doorknob.  I reached for the blinds that covered the window on the wall to the right of the door.  I took a deep breath and pulled the drawstring all the way down.  The blinds shot up and I opened the front door  all the way against the wall.  I wrapped the string around the doorknob as quickly as I could while I watched in slow motion as the three zombies I saw from the peephole and four others that I didn’t all turned toward me at the sound of the door opening.
                As I wrapped the cord around the doorknob I stole a glance up at my living room window.  There was a gap a lot wider than there had been before and I could clearly see Jessica’s face staring down at me.  She looked as terrified as I felt.  My eyes went back to the zombies and it was time to retreat.  The closest was shambling toward me.  Ten feet can be made up really fast, even if you can only walk stiff legged.  He was only a step from the doorway.  And with if I had stuck my arm out I could have grabbed his outstretched hands.  That wasn’t part of the plan, so I turned and ran up the stairs.
                Well, I ran up one step and then tripped.  That was not part of the plan!  I tripped on the second carpeted step and slid down to the floor again.  I turned and looked at the ghoul looking down at me and scrambled up the steps on my hands and knees.  And almost made it out of reach.  I felt the hand clamp around my ankle and looked down between my arms and legs in time to see it bite into my silvery calf.  And the pain was excruciating.  I kicked out with my other foot and it flew back against the tied open door.  I saw another of them step through the door and completely ignoring the one I just kicked began to come at me.  This time I scrambled out of reach and up to the top of the stairs in a flash. 
When I got to the top I looked back down the stairs.  If the pain in my leg hadn’t been so blinding, the sight of three zombies trying to climb stairs would have been extremely comical.  They were tripping over each other and falling down, and making absolutely no headway.  That wasn’t in the plan either, but we might be able to use that to our advantage.  Maybe.
I limped to the bedroom and closed and locked it.  I stood with my back against it for a second before calling out, “Jess, come help me, please.”
She had apparently been right on the other side of the mirror, because before I finished my request the mirror was moving aside and she was jumping though.
“Are you ok?  What happened?”  she was near panic. 
“I think I’m ok.  One of them bit my leg, but I don’t think they got through the tape.  Those fuckers are strong! How can they possibly be so strong?  Fuck how can they even be?  Help me get this dresser in front of the door.”
We moved the enormous twelve drawer dresser in front of the door.  While we were shoving it in place I was wondering how the hell they got it in here in the first place.  After it was in place we went through the mirror again.
“Get on the bed,” Jess told me sternly as soon as we were both through the wall.
“Huh?” I uttered, bewildered.
“I’m going to check your leg.”
“Ah,” and I lay on my face on the bed and felt her raise my duct pant’s leg.  I heard the sharp intake of breath when she looked at the injury, and then I felt her fingers on my leg.  And finally I heard her sigh.  It was clearly the sigh of relief of someone who had been holding their breath.
“It didn’t break the skin.  You are going to have one fuck of a bruise and it’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be fine.  You’re a genius with your duct tape idea.  Can you walk on it enough to get us the fuck out of here now?  Now that we’ve let them in over there, it is only a matter of time before they get in here.”  She looked at me pleading with me to be ok. 
I wasn’t lying to her when I said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine, let’s get the fuck out of here.  Let’s see if they are all going in.”
We both went to the living room window and looked out.  Of the twenty that were out there earlier, we could only see three.  One was just inside the front door of the neighbor.  The other two were hot one his heels.  If you could call how they moved “hot”. 
While we watched the one inside the door stumbled and bumped into the door.  It continued up the steps and out of sight, but not just because it was up the steps, but also because it had bumped the door one final time and the cord had come completely undone and slammed shut.  That complicated things slightly.  But, two was better than twenty.
Jessica must have been thinking the same thing.  “We can outrun two of them right?  Look how slow they are?”
“No sweat, hun.”  I think we will even have time to get all the bags.  Look how slow they are.  It will take them awhile to cover the sixty feet from that door to ours.  And if we are off and running before they even hear the sound of the door opening, we’ll have no problem at all.”
So we went for it.  I got my keys in hand and we went down the stairs to the front door.  I removed the boards that turned out to be not needed at all except for my peace of mind. And I took one last look out the peephole and saw both of them pawing at the neighbor’s front door.  I reached down and picked up the gun bag and flung it over my shoulder.  Jessica had the backpack over her shoulder and a smaller bag of clothes in her hand.

Long post today.  This is what I wrote yesterday and this morning.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Saturday, November 6, 2010

Day 38: Great "write-in", Son's 14th B-day, SA Drivers

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
1) The "write-in" at Barnes & Noble this morning was awesome.  I think all I need to allow me to write non-stop is a change of venue. I was able to write over 2500 words today.  That is the equivalent of about 10 pages in a novel.  For me, that is amazing.  I am going to try to do that twice tomorrow.  In the morning at Barnes and Noble again and in the evening at The Yardhouse.
2) My son had a very fun birthday party this afternoon/evening.  And now, we have him as well as two of his friends are spending the night.  It appears the fun never ends around here.

The Bad
The annoying San Antonio Drivers.  I've complained in the past about the inability for SA drivers to merge.  Well, they have an issue when some one is trying to merge with them.  Ok, here is my tip for today.  When someone is merging onto the freeway and you are already on the freeway, it is the mergER's responsibility to accelerate to your speed and merge either in front or behind you.  Quit being gutless and slowing down!  You are causing a backup behind you that is COMPLETELY unnecessary.

The Writing

Tuesday, September 18, 2012 9:30am

                Well, I didn’t sleep well at all.  Go figure.  Nightmares about zombies and shit.  Again, go figure.  Woke up early.  Power is still on obviously, since I am typing this and not hand writing it.  The activity outside is about the same.  I’m starting to recognize more of my neighbors shambling around.  No cars yet this morning down the street.  Lots of zombies on the other side of the fence.

                Holy shit!  The fence.  The gate!  We can’t wait for the power to go out.  We need the power on to get out of here easily.  I don’t want delays and I definitely don’t want to have to get out of the car in order to get the gate open.  Gotta talk to Jess about that.  She’s not going to like it.

                Ok, about my plan to go through the wall.  Since about 6am, I’ve been knocking on the walls between our apartments and listening.  Nothing in response.  I am hoping that means that no one is home.  I’m going to have to use power tools to get over there.  I am not looking forward to the noise.  Jake was right yesterday.  It is quiet.  Every sound we make makes me wince.  There hasn’t been any more attempts at the doorknob though.  That is encouraging.  But a circular saw is going to make a lot more noise and for a longer period of time than knocking over a tray table.  I’ve done that a couple times already.  I don’t see a way around it however.  At least for the first cut.  To hell with it, I am going to find something heavy and use it like a battering ram.  All I really need is a whole big enough to wedge in and rip bigger chunks out until the hole is big enough to fit through.  I hope.  I’m not a contractor and I’ve never seen the inside of an apartment wall.  These walls do seem pretty thin though.  Hopefully it is going to be a matter of drywall, insulation, drywall and I’m through.  Maybe some wiring – another good reason to not saw blindly. 

                Jess just came in and told me there was only a couple that she could see inside the gates from the front window.  I told her to keep an eye and if those couple disappeared too, then we would try to load the car up quietly.  I stood up and gave her a hug and thanked her for keeping an eye on that and that we had to discuss a few things after I talked with Jake.  She said ok and went back to the chair she has pulled to the living room window. 

                What an odd fucking situation.  I’m pretty sure there is no attraction on her part for me.  Which makes it hard to think of myself as the hero of this story.  Oh well.  There’s other fish in the sea right?  Maybe.  Shit who knows.

Incoming chat request from Studio54Reject691: Steve.  Good morning.  How are you two doing?

Um, is this the same Jake?  All of a sudden calm cool and collected?

SNM456: Jake?  We’re doing fine.  How about you four?

Studio54Reject691: We’re fine.  It’s like you said man.  They gave up and walked off. 

SNM456:  This is the Jake I know.  Keep it together, man.  I want to keep this short.  I’m going through the wall as soon as I log off.  Into the cop’s bedroom from my bedroom. 

SNM456:  Have you worked on your bug out bags?

Studio54Reject691:  Yeah man.  I told Janus they were just in case and she actually calmed down.  I think she thinks I have a plan.  I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t.  that I just had you.  And that you are the hero of this story.

SNM456:  I was just blogging about that.

SNM456:  Aren’t heroes supposed to get the girl?  That ain’t happening here.

Studio54Reject691:  Dude she may not have much of a choice if this thing continues long.  We must repopulate the earth right?

SNM456:  Shut up.  What time do you want to chat tonight? 6 again?

Studio54Reject691: Yeah.  Be careful going through that wall.  You don’t know what’s on the other side.

SNM456:  True, but I need to try man.  I’ll let you know how it went later.  Take care until then.

Studio54Reject691:  Deal, and Steve, don’t let your meat loaf.

SNM456: good bye jackass.

Studio54Reject691 has logged off.

                Ok, through the wall I go.

You are now only one day behind my actual writing.  I have only to post what I wrote today to catch you up. I may have to post twice tomorrow in order to catch you up.  We'll see.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon


Friday, November 5, 2010

Day 37: Homemade vegetable soup, Almost caught up with the Zombies

The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
I am having fun making homemade vegetable soup for my wife and son.  I don't like canned tomato soup, but this stuff made from scratch is awesome!  I'm spending a fortune on produce.

The Bad

The Writing

                If I know Jake, he’ll be on early, so I am going to try to recap the day before he does.   First and foremost, Jess agreed to go to Houston.  And I am not entirely positive it is the right choice, but I think I’d prefer it.  I’d really like to be around friends if this really is the end of the world.  And Jake has always been the best friend I have ever had.  I know I said, “No chivalry”, but Jake is a special case.  His kids are my godkids and I can’t let anything happen to them if I can help it.

                Jess’ only request was to wait a few days to see if this thing ends on its own.  I don’t think it is going to, but I must say I feel safe in my little castle at the moment.  We have our bags ready to go.  Four of them actually.  Two of them full of my freeze dried camping food, one with my camping essentials, including my stove and butane canisters.  They are heavy, but I only have to carry them as far as the car.  This is my backcountry backpack, so it will work nicely if I do have to carry it far.  I can rearrange items later if I need to.  The fourth bag has nonessentials and is the smallest.  Deodorant, toothpaste, shampoo, and the like.  This bag also has what little cash I’ve squirreled away for a zombie apocalypse.  And lo and behold that day is here.  I don’t know what good it is going to do now, but you never know, right?  I think the canned goods and perishables in the fridge will last us about four days.  So I think our absolute time limit has been set.  Even if the power stays on, we are out of here four days from now.  September 21st.  the first day of Fall.  Perfect day to start an adventure.  Hopefully we are the heroes in this adventure and not some of the expendable victims.  If we are smart about this, I think we will be.  Only time will tell.  Until then, I have a hair-brained plan to try to get us more supplies.  Tomorrow morning I am going to tunnel through the wall between my apartment and my neighbors’ apartment.  Looting? Hell yes!  Desperate times call for desperate measures right?  I’ll have to be careful though.  My neighbor is a cop and I don’t want to get shot going through.  I will start by pounding on the wall to see if there is any response.  If there is none, then I am going for it.  If there is a human response, then I am going for it.  So I guess I (I really need to start thinking in terms of “we”) am going to go for it tomorrow morning.  Who knows what I’ll find over there.  I can see his front door from my living room window and at least it is closed.  His downstairs neighbor’s door is wide open, so that is not a good sign.

                The shamblor activity is steady.  No more, no less.  I have Jess watching through the blinds and she is to come get me if it seems like there is an opening to get the bags into the car.  So far nothing from her.  I will just sit here and wait for Jake.  It is only 5:30.

                Haha, Google is still up and running, but a lot of the sites it is linking me to aren’t.  I was able to find a few survival sites that were still up and printed out a book worth of shit.  Anything I could think of that may help keep us alive if we needed to live off the land.  Long term goal.  Houston isn’t going to be it.  I am going to tell Jake, that, when he…  speak of the Devil.

Studio54Reject691: Steve?

SNM456: yessir.  I’m here.  How you doing?

Studio54Reject691:  Scared man.  They know we are in here.  I don’t know how, but they are starting to try to get in.  There are about 20 of them man.  All quiet and pawing at the glass and the front door.

SNM456: Calm down, Jake.

SNM456: I think they are just guessing.  We have the same thing here too.  They try to get into an apartment and give up after an hour or so and then wander off to try somewhere else. 

SNM456:  Just keep your head on.  Get your bug out bags ready.

Studio54Reject691: I’ve tried man, but Janus won’t let me.

SNM456: you need to explain to her that it is just a precaution.  You need to be ready to get out of there if they get in.  Do you have the note under your pillow already?

Studio54Reject691: Yes man, but

SNM456: No

SNM456: You need to do this.  How many hours did we spend “fantasizing” about this?  How many hours of mental preparation?

SNM456: Come on man.

Studio54Reject691: Ok, but it ain’t gonna be easy.

SNM456:  Remember, the key words are going to be JUST IN CASE. 

SNM456: got it?

Studio54Reject691:  Yeah.  Are you safe?  Are you coming?  I’d really like to have you around man?  You were always the calm cool and collected one.  I think it would help our situation.

SNM456: We are going to stick around here a few more days.

Studio54Reject691: You keep saying WE.  Who is WE?

SNM456:  Shit.  I assumed you’d read my blogs since you were still online.

Studio54Reject691: no

SNM456: Remember me telling you about that hot bartender down the road at PJ’s?

Studio54Reject691:  You didn’t tell me you were shacking up with her.  WTF?!

SNM456: Long story.  I’ll tell you in person.  It really was an heroic moment on my part.  You’ll love it.

SNM456: For now, I am going to try to acquire more supplies from my neighbors.  And if any of them are alive, I’ll be bringing them along.

SNM456: I hope some of them are alive.  I want to play hero some more.

Studio54Reject691:  Asshole.

SNM456:  Ok, so, here is the plan.  We are going to hang out here and lay low and gather as many supplies as we can for a couple days.  We have about 4 days food in the apt.  So that would be the latest we would take off.

SNM456: We are going to wait  to see if (not sent)

Studio54Reject691: 4 DAYS!?!??!  Dude, they will be in by then!
SNM456: Calm down man.  Seriously.  If you are going to lose it, where will Janus and Patty and little Jake be?

SNM456: fucked

SNM456: that’s where.  So calm down and think.  Use your head.  Do you need me to give you tasks to keep you focused?  All I am going to do is remind you of everything we’ve already talked about.  All those nights in your backyard by the firepit?

Studio54Reject691: FUCK!  Ok, I can do this.  You have to be smart about this too.

Studio54Reject691:  You need to make it here safely.  That is what’s important.  Then we can work together.  FUCK!  I’m just scared man.  My kids.

SNM456: I know, Jake.

SNM456:  Our plan.  I want to be ready for this trip.  It is going to be long and scary for us.  I don’t want to make a mistake.

SNM456: I am going to try to get supplies and more weapons.  Right now I don’t know how to kill these fuckers.  I am assuming it is like the movies.  But who knows.

SNM456: It may be sooner.  We’ve agreed to wait until our food runs out, and hopefully the army or national guard or whoever (haha) will get it cleaned up before we have to risk our necks and go out there.

SNM456:  If the power goes out before then, then we are hitting the road. At next light.

Studio54Reject691:  That makes sense. 

SNM456:  Ok, in the morning I want to check in with you.  10am sound good to you?

Studio54Reject691: Yeah man.  That’s perfect.  We aren’t really sleeping well anyway.  And tomorrow evening?

SNM456: Same bat time, same bat channel my friend.  Now go take care of your family and first thing in the morning you get your bug out bags ready, JUST IN CASE

Studio54Reject691:  Just in case.  I love you bro.  thank you

SNM456: Jake, I’ll see you soon and talk to you in the morning.  I love you man.

                That went well.  How can he be freaking out that much?  The kids I guess.   Well, time to start enacting the plan.  First a good night’s sleep.  Good night cyberspace.

We're almost caught up to what I have written so far on this story.  I might double up tomorrow.  Of course if the "write-in goes well in the morning tomorrow is going to be a really long blog.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon