Rise of the prepper.

[Jaz]

 

 

 

 

The year is 1994, one year after the first infection.

 

27/11/1994

 

Some sit-ups while being suffocated with claustrophobia due to the crowded bunker, this is my daily routine. The exercise is a necessity when it comes to survival, being nimble and fit is self-explanatory when handling things that wish to kill you. The fat ones died off within the first month from either being outrun by those things or deciding that life isn't good enough. You couldn't just buy your food at a local gas station and decided to see what lead tastes like. The strong and prepared prosper. 

 

I knew this was going to happen many years ago, I wasn't thinking necessarily the end of the world where there's no more room in hell, but something else. My bunker is self-sustaining and enough to keep me going as long as I don't alert those who want to take the easy way of living. I've learnt that mistake before. I was considering the idea of making a journal once these things began, like Watson from Sherlock Holmes, but that wasn't something I should get myself distracted with. Imagine the idea of barely surviving something traumatic and thinking 'Oh look, I can write this down' instead of getting out of that situation. Priorities people!

 

Johnathan Donnell, that's my name. It doesn't mean that much anymore in the current climate. I only remember it because that's what my Military identification card says. You might ask why I carry it? Well, it's the only way in and out of my bunker. I remember speaking with the salesman about it a few years ago, and we went over the hundreds of pros of having this type of entrance but in a realistic thought, what if I lose that card? — There have been two incidences so far this year where I've had to ditch my backpack. It took weeks of tactics to try and get them both back. 

 

Today, or tonight; I'm not actually sure. Depending on what the current time is, I have my eyes on a petrol station located just north of my bunker. It's been ransacked, but the fuel pumps still seem to be working if authorised by the cashier. My generator is running low, so it's a risk worth taking. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Jaz]

 

 

 

27/11/1994 (Morning)

 

Time to make haste, I must have woken up a bit early considering the sun was barely over the horizon, it's bright, cold and bitter. It's morning with the casual groan from a passer-by. They're not dog walkers though, and they're actual walkers. My goal for today is to keep myself sustained with fuel. A trip to the local gas station won't go-amiss even though it's been ransacked. 

 

As I was making my way through the town, avoiding the main road's and taking shortcuts through back gardens. The most gut-wrenching of crashes took place on what I'd say a quarter of a mile away in the direction of the gas station. It took the attention of the local population away from the streets and towards it. While in concealment from the elements I observed a man, he couldn't have been out of his teenage years running at a full sprint through the main road, and I was safe to assume this was the causer of the crash. 

 

 

 

 

I knew I was safe where I was hiding; the last I saw was him running into the old schoolhouse followed by more screams, the screams of feral children finally getting to eat, or so I'd gather.

 

My trip to the gas station was put on severe hold as I came within around 50 meters distance away from it after hopping a home-owners fence: smoke, a lot of it. The worst thing that could have taken place did. The blaze was flooding the entire set of gas pumps. That kid deserved to get mauled. Whatever he did cause him to crash directly into the pumps. There are no "safety" measures for this kind of shit.  It was far too dangerous even to step close to the gas station.

 

 

 

 

A days energy wasted because of some idiot joy-rider. Well, not everything is lost since I managed to find an empty gas canister on my travels. Obviously it would be better if it was full, my previous gasoline supply was sufficient enough for the first year but I managed to burn through that without being all too conservative. With this station now being a literal crematorium for the undead. I'll need to find an alternative.