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The emergency sirens blared on the island. Jen quickly turned off the television and turned on the emergency station, AM 1290. The repeating broadcast, which is still looping for all to hear, runs like this:This is a message from the Alameda Emergency Broadcast System. This is *not* a test. I repeat, this is *not* a test. Reports of animated corpses attacking living persons have been confirmed on the island. This is *not* a hoax. Authorities ask that all living persons barraiade themselves indoors until further notice. Authorities will be blocking the Webster and Posey tubes and lifting the drawbridges. People will not be allowed to enter or leave the island. This is *not* a test.
We had listened to this message twice when we heard it. A low moaning coming from outside. Jen stuck her head out the fire escape to see what was going on. When she pulled her head back inside, she was pale. "They're downstairs," she muttered. "About 5 of them." That's when the banging started.
Thinking quickly, I had everyone grab anything that could be used as a weapon - heavy pans, large objects, baseball bats, anything
. The window on the front door of the complex broke with a resounding crash. The undead had made it into the building.
I will pause here to mention that the front door of my part of the complex is actually the second story of an old Victorian-esque home reachable by a large wooden staircase that is build over the door to the first-floor apartments. Goddess help our neighbors who lived on the first floor.
As those of us with enough bravery (or stupidity) charged ahead to fight off the small invasion, I yelled at the others to try to go for the head. It would either stop them or at least make it harder for them to attack. Those things are vicious. I narrowly escaped being bitten twice as I fought them off, though one managed to scratch my arm. I have since removed some of the flesh surrounding the wound and soaked it in Bactine. It still throbs. I hope I'm not infected.
The most frightening thing is that, though they looked human and quite fresh despite a few obvious wounds, there was nothing human about those eyes. They were blank, unfocused, un-dilating, emotionless eyes. It was like looking into a mirror in the near dark - nothing to see but the shadow of your own reflection. Before I knew it, we had dismembered them all. Luckily, we all escaped with minor wounds. No one was bitten - that time. Two of my neighbors volunteered to check in on our first-floor neighbors, as there were no more undead in sight. Our neighbors downstairs, those that were home, had been ravaged and were themselves shambling about in a daze. We lost two men fighting them off.
We took the dismembered pieces of zombie into the backyard and started a pyre in the dirt. One of the hands twitched as I picked it up. It still felt alive. I can't say I was sorry to throw it on the fire.
Those who were too scared to leave the building walked around to all of apartments and started to gather necessary supplies - filling buckets with fresh water and gathering both perishable and non-perishable items. It was decided that we would camp out on the top floor and barricade the doors downstairs as well as the top of the stairway. At least then we could use the stairs to our advantage. Our landlord took charge of building the barracade. Myself and one other watched the fire to make sure it burned thoughoughly.
Once the barracades were up, the waiting began. The police and fire departments were having a relatively easy time controlling the zombie outbreak in Alameda, owing to our not having a proper cemetary on the island. We could hear sirens and some commotion coming from the direction of Park St., but little else.
I heard from my family an hour ago. They are unable to get to the island because of the barracade. We set up a meeting place outside of the Bay. I also was able to get ahold of ribbin
. He is heading for the hills and setting fires as he goes. I tried to talk him out of it, as he'll burn the innocent and the dead, but it is sounding more and more like there is only the dead. Still no word from dearbhail and josh_summit
The wound I recieved in the fight is burning. I'd be tempted to removed the whole arm, but we'll see how things go. I'm sure that my neighbors will do what is necessary if the time comes.