Life has been hard. I know it sounds so weird for me to say that considering the world has effectively ended. As you can see it’s been hard keeping in touch. The internet signals appear to be slowly dying. It was inevitable of course and I’m surprised that they lasted this long.
As for what we’ve been up to; just moving toward Seattle. Our intent is to put as many miles behind us every day so it’s slow going because we are doing our best to avoid the major cities. And it doesn’t help that the roads are congested with vehicles. It’s funny to me actually when I think about it; you never would have thought that there were so many cars and trucks in North America. Everywhere you look is a stationary car; maybe burned out or a twisted metallic mass. In each case, you knew that someone had likely lost their lives, either at the hands of the Undead or as a direct result of their presence.
It’s beginning to seem like the number of survivors is just a fraction of the population. It makes sense, when you think of all of the Undead that you encounter in the space of a few hours. We are definitely the minority now.
Actually I wanted to share with you something that Julie found on the internet. She’s been searching more and more for any other stories of survival; of people desperate to stay alive. The story comes to us out of Hong Kong.
I wish that I could supply you with the link so that you could go and read for yourselves but as soon as Julie had finished reading it, the site disappeared. We don’t know if it’s because the server has gone down or if someone removed the site altogether. All we know is this…
A moderate sized group of people had managed to barricade themselves inside an English school in the heart of Hong Kong. They were a multi-generational group and mainly made up of either students or school employees. The Undead has found the school as the students were outside for recess. Many of the children froze on the spot and as a result they succumbed to the growing tide of death as it washed toward them.
A few of the students closer to the building as well as a few teachers had managed to get inside and lock the doors before the Undead could breach the entrance. The scene was one of utter panic. No one really knew what was happening, the news had not warned them of anything despite the fact that the airport had been compromised when a plane from New York had landed full of the Undead, ready and willing to unleash hell on earth. The pilots had lost contact with the passenger section but really had no idea why. All they knew was that there was constant noise from the first class and beyond. They were terrified that they had been hijacked and had refused to go out to have a look at what was transpiring beyond the cockpit door.
As a result all of the emergency vehicles and first responders had met the plane on the tarmac and were unprepared for the walking death that assaulted them once the plane door was opened. At first they thought that the passengers were in a daze from some sort of contagion or poison that was released on board the plane. Once the former passengers started attacking the emergency personnel, the situation drastically changed. There were limited police on the scene despite the possibility of terrorism. The ones that were present opened fire but their bullets did nothing to deflect the coming undead flesh.
From there the infection spread like wildfire through the crowded streets of Hong Kong. News outlets chose not to broadcast the situation, thinking it best not to fight the government’s constant propaganda. So the tide of death moved deeper and deeper into the city, fanning out until there was nowhere else for them to go but follow the roads out of town. And that brings us back to the Hong Kong School for English Studies.
There were 23 survivors, locked in the school with a growing horde of the Undead on the other of the walls.
And they were pretty well off inside the walls of the school. It was powered by a generator that was replenished by solar panels on the roof. And the school’s freezer was full of food as well as the pantry being fully stocked with canned goods. If you had to choose a place to hunker down during an apocalypse this was an ideal place to do it.
It was great (in relative terms of course) in the beginning. There was no need to go outside in order to search for supplies. Each of the survivors was content to sit in relative safety and wait for the Chinese Military to straighten out the situation.
The only person that didn’t have much faith in the military was Paul Holmes, an English as a Second Language teacher that hailed from London, England. This was supposed to be his first year in Hong Kong as he’s already decided it was going to be his last. The experience of being an ESL teacher had been great but living in Hong Kong with the language barrier was just wearing too hard on him. He had longed for the comforts that he could find in his neighbourhood in London as well as the companionship of some English-speaking people.
After looking at the carnage all over the internet, he had decided to write a journal of what was happening in his part of the world; much like we had decided to do. Even if no one read it, it would be there for history’s sake.
Within a week or so, some of the other survivors started to get restless. They wanted to venture out to look for family or just make a break to get out of the city altogether. It was becoming quite clear that the military was not coming for them. The feeling of being trapped was just too much for some of them to handle. It was the desperation that eventually drove them outside.
The first group that decided to leave didn’t make it very far. They only got a few feet from the door before the Undead were upon them. And it’s not like the weaponry they had was very sophisticated; just a few long knives from the kitchen and gym equipment.
After that incident the morale of the group started to break down. They were running out of food and other supplies without any way of replenishing them. That’s when the fighting started. It kept escalating and getting more intense until the group fractured and the different factions set up camp in opposite parts of the school. And all the while the Undead continued to collect outside the school.
Fairly soon the different factions of people decided to leave the school, waiting until they thought it was safe. No one really knew of the movements of the others. It just became apparent that they were gone when they stopped coming to collect the daily rations. By the end, it was just Paul and another man, one of the janitors, who name was Jian.
Paul and Jian stayed in the school, living off the little food that they had left until the moment that Jian went crazy. The stress of the situation had finally worn through his fragile resolve. Jian’s final act was to run out of the doors of the school into the arms of the Undead. Seeing the open door, the Undead swarmed into the building searching out every nook and cranny that they could. Our last update from Paul had him holed up in a janitor’s closet, frantically typing out his last words to the word.
God help us all.