literature

Notes of A Survivor, part 14

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August 14, 2009
Home Depot

This morning we made a break for it.  We failed.  There was a hoard waiting for us when we opened the storage room door.  A lot of them.  They came flooding into the storage room.  We were backed into a wall for a while, we had to crowbar our way out.  I almost lost my gun.  After we escaped the room, sealing several zombies into it, we made for the stairs.  That's when we saw them: Britt's parents.  Fuck!
They were blocking our way, they were between us and the stairs.  She raised her gun to them and froze.  I can't blame her.  I froze too.  I haven't killed anyone I know face to face like this.  My old friend a while back, that was different, through a scope, and her face was gone.  It was easier.  This though, God dammit, this was hard.  I was hoping she'd do it, but she didn't.  
I did.
I shot them both, head shots, clean, easy, simple, painful.  I didn't think about, I just shouted that we had to run, get away.  My shooting attracted other zombies.  They chased us down the stairs, we had been carrying extra ammo in back packs this whole time, one each, stuffed full of shells, we had to ditch them on the stairs, not that there was much left anyway.  Still, what a fucking waste of ammo and life.  God, at this point I'm almost wishing we had just cut my arm off.  Fuck.  I didn't want to kill them, I had to.
Britt hasn't really said anything to me since then.  I can't blame her, I did just shoot her parents.  I still feel like I've committed murder, even if they were already dead and trying to kill us.  It's just hard.  I just want the fucking army to get here.  The radio's dead, just static, I guess the tower's gone or something.  
There is one good thing: I've seen a lot of helicopters flying around.  I'm sure they've spotted us, lord knows we've waved enough.  Maybe the army's coming soon.  God I hope so.  I'm tired of this.  
I hope Britt will be ok.  She doesn't seem like herself.  I can't blame her, this whole shitfest has changed all of us.  I need sleep.




August 15, 2009
Home Depot

It's 2 a.m.  Britt's gone.  She took her gun, ammo, food, and water.  She didn't say much.  I told her to stay at least until day.  She refused.  I gave her as much supplies as she could carry and I'm praying for her.  I'm alone again here.  I guess I can't blame her for leaving, still, her companionship was nice, made this shit a little better.  
Fuck it.  I need sleep.  I'll write more tomorrow.  
Part 14. Gotten a tad dark, eh?
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omg I left! :O I'm sorry Alex!