Day 1 — The beginning of a long journey

As I wake up at home, in my old house in Redford, it’s been a week since the alert was issued. In the first days the TV news still let you follow the progress of the pandemic, but the government was quickly overwhelmed. Today the televisions and radios emit a chilling silence, but I mustn’t let myself fall apart. There’s still electricity and running water — for now — but for how long?

Bad luck: the pandemic had to hit just after I moved. I don’t know this town at all. I keep my police uniform on me to remind myself that order and justice must continue to guide my life.

Today I ran out of the food and water I had stockpiled before the total blackout. Even here, the neighborhood swarms with those bastard zombies. Just yesterday my neighbors died after being bitten. I don’t know how long I’ll last: I don’t have my service weapon, no vehicle, just my phone and my baton. Still, I have to go out and find food.

I’ll try to find my neighbors’ car keys and see what supplies they had left, but I’m not sure whether they’re still inside — the idea terrifies me. I avoid confronting the infected as much as possible.

The day breaks. I gather my courage, grab my baton, and open the door. I run to the house across the street — nothing moves; it’s silent outside. To make sure there’s nobody inside I knock on the door: no sound. I try to open it, but it’s locked.

I go around back and try the rear door: it isn’t locked — a relief. Silence rules inside. I move cautiously, searching the furniture for useful items. I find a flashlight and some batteries; I reach the bathroom and, as a precaution — in case I need the water later — I fill the bathtub and the sink. Running water won’t last long.

I enter the living room. To secure the house I pull the hallway cupboard in front of the back door: it’s simpler to block that exit and enter from the front. I’m still looking for the keys, to no avail. In the kitchen I search the cupboards, stow some cans in the backpack I found in the bedroom, open the fridge and take all the food and drinks I can.

In the last room I find a baseball bat and put it in the bag — it will probably do more than my baton. I also find a regional map and look for a pencil to mark the places I’ve been using my phone’s GPS.

It’s important to mark the places I’ve been so I don’t return unnecessarily. My main objective remains the car keys I didn’t find. The car’s door was ajar; I try to start it the hard way by fiddling with the wires. After several attempts it starts! Jackpot. I can move quickly into town.

I decide to go home to put my precious finds in the fridge and figure out where to go next. It’s complicated: I don’t know the streets, I don’t know what’s around here. I leave the house, get in the car and start driving. A few minutes later I hear an alarm — the school’s. I figure there might be survivors there.

There were no zombies nearby, but the alarm would quickly attract them. I have to check if anyone is there. I park, look around: no one, nothing alive, and nothing dead moves. I approach the doors: they are closed. On the other side I can see a zombie against the wall. I decide to pick the front door lock to get to the vending machines — that could give me food for a while. After a few minutes of trying I manage to open it. I enter silently and start checking the lockers nearby. The zombie hasn’t heard me.

While I’m searching in a room near the vending machines, I feel something brush my head. I turn immediately: the zombie is no longer against the wall but behind me. I shove it and it falls to the floor. I set my backpack down, grab my baton instinctively and start hitting it, hit after hit. I throw the baton, grab the bat and deliver a heavy blow to its head. It doesn’t move, lying on the floor, covered in blood.

I approach and prod it with my foot to make sure it’s really dead. Then I search its body — not glorious, but it might have something useful: a phone, supplies, etc. Nothing interesting. I decide to keep its coins, its credit card and its ID — my way of remembering those I’ve freed.

Night is falling. I hear windows breaking in the distance; I look up and see a few zombies approaching slowly. I get up, take my baton, put my things in the bag and run to the car, then drive back home.

I drink a little, note where I’ve been and what I saw — I take the notebook I found at the school and write the first day of my adventure. I heat a small can of peas, set the notebook aside, eat, lock the house and head to my bedroom where the window and blinds are completely closed. I lock my bedroom door and get into bed. Tomorrow will be another day, probably even harder than today.