First entry

This is a first entry for a novel I am thinking of writing. It's basically a zombie novel written in a journal or diary style. Let me know if it's engaging enough for me to carry on.

Supplies 

Goodfellows (Barnabas road) Empty 

 

Blessed Africa Mini Market (Ballance Road) Closed down 3 months before outbreak 

 

The Whole Meal Shop (Homerton) Boarded up. Lots inside. Reboarded after I left. Wrote a sign for other survivors. 

 

Allen's Chemist (Homerton) Bandages, painkillers. Nothing much else. 

 

Hackney Metro (Bernie Grant House) Over run. Blood on most things.  

 

Star Supermarket (Well Street) Empty 

 

Star Value (Well Street) Not much to begin with. 

 

Iceland (Tudor Rd) Empty. Mums might go to iceland but the dead don't. 

 

 

First entry 

 

12th October  

City: London 

 

 

I suppose I should do something useful with this book. It isn't like I don't have the time on my hands because I've been alone for what feels like forever. When I actually tally the days I can't believe this only started a few weeks ago. I feel like I'm going crazy. If the human race comes through the other side it might be good to have some sort of documentation. So in case someone finds this and the outbreak has been contained I'll start at the beginning. 

It's been 29 days since the incident that set it all off. If I think hard, it started long before that. It was like in a film or video game. One isolated incident that no one pays attention to. We all heard about the story in Downtown Miami back in May 2012. They called it a 'grisly attack that resembled something out of a horror movie' when a naked man was found eating the face of some poor homeless guy. By the time the police got there the attacker had already eaten the hobos eyes, nose and ears. He even growled at the cop who shot him but he didn't die or even stop until after the fifth or sixth round. They never released where the kill shot was, though thinking about it I can guess. The press told everyone it was a drug induced attack and that it was the adrenaline that kept him alive after all of those bullet wounds. Of course, everyone joked that it was a zombie attack. It seemed like such an unlikely thing to happen. Everyone forgot about it after a few weeks and no one asked about what happened to the victim. The next incident I can remember was in July. A guy in China jumped onto a woman's car and began trying to smash through the windscreen. Naturally she ran but people said they saw him leap from the hood of the car and tackle her before he started to eat her face. The press said he was just drunk. At this point most people didn't want to admit that they were worried. But it was too strange to be coincidence. Then the stories started piling in. An old man in Australia, a group of teenagers in Paris, a whole town in Russia.  
That was when people really began to panic. It was becoming clear that it wasn't isolated. It could happen to anyone, anywhere. A neighbour, co-worker, the waitress that serves you coffee, even a family member. And that's when everyone got so s**t scared that they all started running out to buy supplies. Foods that wont perish for a good few months, bottles of water, toilet tissue. 

The next step in the epidemic was to send teams of reporters from every news station to the newest site of infection so that they could get a first look story. People didn't understand that this was just a fresh supply of victims. Groups of 5 or more from every news station, local and worldwide, to further spread the disease.  

 

And so the numbers just kept getting higher and higher. People were taking infected to hospitals, piling up the bodies into a concentrated area where they'd beg for a vaccine that the government didn't have. Every day the chances of survival got slimmer and slimmer. One person in every thousand turned. Didn't seem so bad. Most people had built up enough supplies that they could stay in their houses. They didn't know that people could turn even though they weren't bitten. One in every 700 lost to the infection. The Hospitals were all over run. People feeding on people, sick attacking the healthy. Shops and houses began to board up. Then one in every 500. This was just a few days later. It had long passed the stage where it was just faces on tv. People you didn't know in places too far away to care about. It was right outside our doors. One in 300. The people who hadn't stocked up were running to the shops for some late preparation. Owners threatened to kill people if they stepped foot in the building. One in 200. Companies had already fallen. All the money in the world couldn't save them. Workers obviously stopped going in. There was no way you'd catch me outside my flat sooner than I had to be. The government stepping in did nothing to help. I could hear outside my window and I saw it on the news. One in 100. Gunfire everywhere, it started as a solid operation, the army shooting down the infected. But everyone knows that it's no good unless it's a headshot. Soon the army's organization began to fall apart. They started shooting anyone and everyone that approached the barricades. One in 50. The barricades fell. The army scattered from the city. People who were brave enough to go outside ransacked the weapon stores though I don't suppose many of them made it out of there alive. I don't think they even knew how to shoot. The government set a new precaution. “A group of soldiers will make their way through the towns, any infected survivors should make their way to them. They'll take you to the safe point and vaccinate. Anyone who hasn't had contact with infection should remain safe in their homes.” That was just a lie. A way to get all of the soon to be walking dead to the same point so they could kill them off before the turn. One in 3. That was the last announcement on the news before the infected broke into the studio. The whole attack was broadcast live. I can still hear the screaming. 

 

After that I lost any news on what was happening outside. I didn't dare to think about it though deep down I guess I knew what it was like. I'd seen it first hand in the sky news studio. I lasted for 21 days on the food I'd managed to stock before the world went to hell. I stayed inside for another four days before the hunger was too much. I had to go outside. But how is someone supposed to prepare for something like that? I grabbed anything I could; the biggest kitchen knife I had, a hammer, a backpack, some warm clothes and any medical supplies I had laying around. I say medical supplies but it was more like a box of plasters, night nurse and some bandages. Hardly a walking pharmacy. I still didn't feel like I had the courage to go out there. One bite, one scratch even, and I'm a goner. Then I remembered something I saw on tv. Some zombie show on FX. Duct tape.  I know it's only fiction but so were zombies until recently. Besides, don't animal trainers use the same trick to protect from bites and scratches? I wrapped myself in tape. Covered my arms, legs, torso, neck. It'd be painful to take off but that was something I was willing to put up with.  

 

When I got outside I couldn't believe it. Bodies were spread over the roads and pavements. I should probably say carcasses. That's a more accurate description. Severed body parts and blood everywhere. But the street was empty apart from that. There was no one. No birds. Only the breeze and sound of crackling fire from a nearby car. My battle plan was to find food, to loot grocery stores and keep out of sight. There were a few misses before I found somewhere I could rest and finally eat after 6 days of starvation. I guess they boarded up and evacuated before anything too serious happened. Or at least that's what I'd like to hope. I stayed shut up inside the store for a day or two but didn't want to risk being there longer. I didn't know where the escape routes were, or the zombies for that matter. They could have been just around the corner on their way to me. So I packed as much food as I could fit into my backpack and pockets then re-boarded the entrance. I wrote a message for other survivors.  

-No infected inside. Well stocked. Keep safe.- 

 I hope there are other survivors to see it. I've set off down the road towards the bridge. Maybe there is some kind of information centre set up there and I'll have an idea of a safe point or anything to give me hope.  

Author's Note

The book begins with a list of real places in London that can be used to plot the journey on a map and gives an initial reason for keeping the book.