Lone Survivor

October 31- Journal Entry

The windows are boarded up now. Streams of light are all that can manage to bore its way through the uneven slats. The sun has reached its peak and will go into hiding behind the horizon in just a few, short hours. The sunlight is my best ally when sniping the walking dead. I prepare my rifle and make sure the scope is on, the lenses cleaned. I go to the upstairs bedroom. I can afford to have a single window open there, where I can observe the zombies approaching the house. Then, one by one, I pick them off.

I hear something rustling down the street. Footsteps. Pit-Pat. Pit-Pat. Sounds small. The rhythm is faster than the usual walking corpse. I quietly slide the barrel of the rifle out of the window. These creatures can’t see me from up high but why take the chance. I breathe in. Then out. I feel the beating of my heart, the blood pulsing through my veins as I line the sight of the gun and find my target: A little girl?

Her flaxen hair and rosy cheeks shines like a beacon on my front lawn. I quickly jump out of the bedroom and jolted downstairs. I take the claw hammer I keep close to me as a secondary weapon and use it for its original intended use. I pry all the lumber off of the door and swing it open as fast as possible. “Hey!” I cry out to the little girl who walks toward me slowly, timidly. She’s scared. Who could blame her? Being outside all alone with all those… things crawling around the earth.

I grab her and she struggles to free herself. I’m sorry, honey, but I have to do this. It’s for your own good. I run back into the house and board up the door again. She’s in the corner, looking at me with wide eyes, petrified eyes, eyes glossy with tears yet to be formed. I kneel down next to her and ask her if she’s hungry. No answer. Is she scared? Still no answer. I try and explain what’s going on, she cries, but still makes no sound. I ask her what her name is, and that’s the only sound she makes. “Barbara,” she whispers.

Barbara is hesitant to follow me around. I wonder how long she’s been out there. Poor girl. All of a sudden, there is a commotion outside. It may be the first kill of the day. I beckon Barbara to stay in the bed but she wanders over to the window. I grab my gun and she coils away from me. I have no time to console her. There are more pressing matters at hand. I prepare myself for the first shot. The barrel peeks out of the window, I breathe to myself and line the sight. A fat, ugly one is my first target.

The child gasps and lunges at me before I can assure my aim. She cries for me to stop. How can I explain it to her? How can I make her understand that I’m not really killing anyone, that I can’t kill the living dead? I shake her off violently. She tries to escape but I’ve locked the door. It’s a secondary caution in case these scum break through the frontline defenses. She’ll keep trying to escape, but I know she can’t get out unless she has the key… or as a last resort: there’s always this window.

I slide the rifle back out and see the zombie through my scope. I gently squeeze the trigger and see the brain matter propel itself from the back of the demon’s skull. Lifeless, the undead man falls to its knees and collapses face down into the grass. Barbara let out a scream that could drop a grown man to his knees. And more dangerously, it could attract more zombies to the house. I wrap my hands over her mouth, but she bites down hard on it. She jumps out the window and into the bushes below. I try and go after her but it’s too late, she’s run too far down the street to catch without being caught myself.

The blood is pouring profusely from my hand. I run into the master bathroom to tend to it. Fortunately, I have prepared myself for such an occasion. After my wounds are dressed and all possible infections prevented, I scan the lawn again for more zombies. The streets are empty, and quieter than a grave. The sun is sinking quickly out of sight. I lie down on the bed to take a quick rest for a few moments.

Darkness is now draping the area. I shut the window to keep the cold air out, but there was a noise in the air, vaguely familiar. Sirens? They stop a block from my house. I hear footsteps stomp out of them. I can hear guns loading. Have they come to stop the undead once and for all?

November 1- Newspaper Clipping

Official reports say the room was boarded up as if the suspect was afraid of some sort of attack against his house. Police are not releasing any more details about the suspect who is currently in custody after the murder, which occurred yesterday afternoon. Neighbors say he was an introverted individual who may have been suffering from severe paranoia and grand delusions. The only witness and lone survivor of the horrific ordeal is a young girl who was allegedly kidnapped by the shooter only to courageously escape out of the second story bedroom window. Police say that it was this little girl that called 911 and alerted them to the shooter’s actions.