From the journal of Charlie Fast Fingers Pearson, April 1

This entry has traveled thousands of miles to be included in the archive. The man who wrote it, Charlie "Fast Fingers" Pearson, was the guitarist in the IT band of the moment right before the pandemic. Their experience was one of the most compelling to have come forward since I started this archive.

April 1, 2017

      I have been chosen to write down what we have seen and done since the shit hit the fan. My name is Charlie "Fast Fingers" Pearson and I play guitar for the Fox Force Five. We have been in the LAX VIP room for almost three months now. Randy, Mick, Frank, Dave and I came here to fly to Europe for our first world tour with all our roadies and crew. It just happened that no one told us the world was going to end before take off. Our manager, Marty Brooks, and the music company CEO, Will Flimmel, came to see us off with a few lackeys and we were all enjoying some recreational pick me ups when the pilots ran in and slammed the door to the VIP room. They started screaming at us to get something to block the doors and we all laughed. I mean, what the fuck, right?
      Then we heard the sounds of rabid animals coming down the hall towards us. Randy and I jumped up and started dragging the heavy furniture over to block the door. The others just started asking "What the fuck is that?" and "Holy shit, what is going on?". We barely got the door secure before something or someone started pounding on it. Then it sounded like there were tons of someones out there, but they were growling and moaning and making these fucking odd sounds while pounding on the door like their lives depended on them getting inside.
     The pilots, Mark and Jason, told us that they were coming to let us know everything was ready and it was time to head out when they started being chased by a group of people who were acting like zombies in a horror movie. At first, they thought it might be us playing a prank on them, which we have done to other pilots or drivers for our tours. But when people in the group split off and started attacking  and eating other people in the hallway, they knew it was not a joke. They ran as fast as they could to get in the door before the group of zombies got them.
     I could not believe what I was hearing at first, but how could anyone deny it for long with all that racket coming from outside the door. Lucky for us that we were not out with the general population in the airport, we might not still be alive if we weren't considered VIP's.
     Marty tried to get us to be calm, but we were hiped up on coke and no one was listening. Will finally got everyones attention by whistling with his fingers. He pointed out that we had food, lots of drinks, and we were safe. That got us all to stop yelling over each other and we sat down to figure out what to do.
     That was almost three months ago now. It was like a quiet party at first. We drank, snorted coke, ate whatever we wanted and generally did what we always did in our down time. We had a good time. But then stuff started to run out. First, it was the whiskey. Then the coke before food started to get low. That's when we started setting us rules about how much food each person got a day. We searched all the closets, even breaking down some of the locked doors. We were in luck again because there were snack food and soda's in one and a bars worth of alcohol in another. That extended the party for a little while, but when the alcohol started running out again, we started trying to come up with ideas about what to do.
     The zombies at the doors never stop banging and growling, day and night. Marty reminded all of us today that there are more supplies on the plane. We can see it out the window on the private runway reserved for us fucking VIP's so we don't have to mix with the peons. There are about 50 zombies that can be seen wandering around the runway between our door and the plane. I think from what Mark and Jason have told us that there are more than that out the door to the airport terminal. We are going to have to decide what to do soon or we are going to run out of food. Where will we be then? Dead. Will we come back like the freaks keeping a beat on the door? Or do we have to be bit for that to happen? We have no idea and that is the scariest shit of all. April fucking fools.
   

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, April 7

April 7, 2017
 

    I have truly missed the smell of roasting meat. It took me all day yesterday and then again this morning to convince anyone else of the need for a lottery system. But once their stomachs were completely empty and rumbling, some of the people gave in. I knew there would be hold outs, but I didn't think that over half the people would decide to still go hungry. Well, too bad for them. They can smell the meat cooking while letting their mouths water and their stomachs go empty. Enjoy listening to the cries of your hungry brats while sitting up on your pedestal.
     Our first lottery went well. Everyone who wanted to partake put in their name and I drew one. The woman, Wendy Blackstone, cried but didn't fight because she knew that her children were going to eat, if they could get over who they were eating. I was sympathetic and comforted her. I even let her have an hour with her family to say whatever they needed to say. I think that was really nice because my stomach was growling and I knew we still had to cook her which would take time.
     I walked Wendy to the area that had been chosen as the preparation area and left her with Lucas Long. He was a butcher in his life before the pandemic, so I let him take care of the getting her ready to cook. Then Alice Wakabiashi took over for the cooking process. We couldn't  a large fire getting out of control so Alice decided it would be best to cook her like you do a pig for a lua, in the ground with coals. It was sheer torture having to smell her cooking for so long before we could enjoy our meal.
     When the meat was ready, we dug it up and I gave an appropriate speech about her sacrafice for the good of the rest of us. Then everyone who had been part of the lottery sat down to our first filling meal in days. She was tender and succulent, just enough fat to make the meat glisten and burst with flavor. I even thought of Hannibal Lecter and what he said about eating his victims with fava beans and a good Chianti. What I wouldn't give to have both of those to go with this meal.
     I guess I have to assume that Waters and his men failed in their mission. I hope they all died painfully for leaving us in this situation. They were supposed to be the best soldiers we had here and they turned out to be nothing but losers. The people who are still a part of my people, those who realized the necessity of eating their fellow man, are more brave than any of those soldiers. They are doing what it takes to survive and not letting others stop them from being strong. If Waters was in front of me right now, I would gladly kill him and make a tasty meal of his carcass. Him and all his God damned soldiers. At least then they would be serving us better than by becoming zombie food.  Damn them and their inability to get back here with supplies. Well, I will be here, alive and that is my best revenge.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

   

From the record kept by the twins Jenny and Barbie Crow, April 1

April 1, 2017

    We have yet to get into the administration section of our building. When we first went down there and tried to get in, we found the entire security force reanimated and hungry. Barbie closed the door really quickly, but they had seen us and were no longer dormant. I told her we need to come up with a plan for letting them out and leading them away from where we want to go. There are around 10 of them, so too many for us to take out ourselves, at least safely. The hallway is narrow in that area and there is no where to hide once we open the door. We might have to build something like we did in the apartment on the 9th floor. There is not much to work with down there, but we could take some furniture from other apartments and use it to build us a safe place to take out the undead.
     We found a small solar generator and solar panels on the 7th floor and had to use a cart to get it back to our apartment. But now, we can at least watch one DVD before the power gives out. Last night Barbie chose Sean of the Dead. I thought I would not be able to laugh at the zombies, but I think our situation made it even more funny to us. It was nice to be able to laugh with my twin like we used to before the pandemic started.
     I wish I had bought an apartment that had a small balcony or access to the outside easier than in this one. I want to try to grow some fresh vegetables, but the only place to try is where the outdoor pool is. There are some flower pots there and we found some seeds in an apartment on the 8th floor for tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, and cucumbers. I don't know about gardening and neither does Barbie, but we are going to try to get something started. The pool water is starting to look a little green, but we should be able to us it to water the plants. We will have to rip out the flowers in the pots, but since we can't eat them, it won't be a big loss. I just hope that we can get something to grow.

     I think we have given up on the idea of leaving our building for now. There are just too many undead on the streets and we would never be able to get through them. And even if we did, where would we go? At least here we have out stash of supplies and the possibility of growing some fresh food. We haven't even searched all of the apartments in the towers yet, only down to the 8th floor and up to the 20th. We have plenty to eat and have found a good supply of bottled water. We could never take it all with us and I would not want to have to try to find more out in the city. We don't know if anyone is alive out there and to take the chance to leave and have no where to go and no access to more supplies would be foolish. I know that Barbie took longer to come to the same conclusion because she really wants to look around the city, but it would be stupid to attempt it.
     Today we went through the apartments on the 7th floor, where we found the solar generator and panels. They are the perfect size to fit the windows in the old guest room that is now our supply room. The sun comes through them for a good portion of the day so we collect a little power to use. The rest of the apartments were like all the other ones we have searched. They had some food and two had bottled water, but most people were no prepared to survive in the world we live in today. If they had not died and turned at the beginning, they would have starved or died of lack of water. We had to take out around 8 on the entire floor in several apartments, but we are getting better at doing it as safely as possible.
     I told Barbie that we should try to get into the other tower soon because the apartments over there are bigger and were more expensive to try to buy. We might be able to find some cool stuff over there, like more DVD's or maybe some gourmet foods. At this point, anything that is not an MRE or from a can would be a welcome change in our diets.  I think she is up for it and maybe we can try tomorrow. We don't know if the stairs are clear over there or if any of the undead occupants have gotten out into their halls. We will have to be really careful and take anything we might need to protect ourselves and take out undead.
     Boredom is still our biggest enemy, well, besides the undead. But now that we have the ability to produce a little power, we can entertain ourselves a little better. We plugged my laptop in and played some of the games on it and it was fun for a little while. I just wish I had know what was going to happen so I could have gotten a better selection of games. Maybe we will find someone else's computer and get lucky. Or maybe we should look for a video game machine to play on. We will just have to keep the volume down because sound travels way further now and we don't want to attract any undue attention to ourselves. We don't know if anyone else is alive on the floors we have not searched and the entire other tower could have survivors in it for all we know.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered entry by Steven Jackson, Stanford University Bookstore, April 1

This entry was found written on receipt paper in the Stanford University Bookstore. No one was alive in the vicinity when the entrywas found. It was written by Steven Jackson, who was one of the employees of the bookstore. He helped hide everyone in the store, employees and students when they pandemic started.

April 1, 2017

Steven Jackson at work in the Stanford University Book Store.

     I am writing this down because I am the last person alive in the bookstore. There were ten of us in here when the zombies stormed the school. We closed the doors, turned off the lights and hid in the back until the screaming stopped. We have been living on the food that was sold in the store and on the water, sodas and energy drinks in the coolers. Of course, they were not cold by the time we drank them because there is no electricity and the store is really hot without the air moving.
     We covered all the windows with clothing, blankets, anything we could find and have kept as quiet as possible since it began. But the undead now know someone is in here and thump on the windows day and night. For now, the windows are holding, but I don't know how long this will continue.
     We were doing alright for the first 70 days or so. We had all agreed to how much food everyone would get on a daily basis to conserve what was here in the store.  We stayed quiet and as far from the windows as we could. The zombies had started to wander off after they hadn't heard us for more than 30 days. There were only a couple of zombies hanging out near the store and they were almost dormant because they hadn't had any stimulation for so long.
     Then, on the 71st day, Bill got sick. It started with a cough and got worse really fast. We tried giving him the medicines we had, like Dayquil and Nightquil, but he just kept getting worse. His cough was really wet and sounded horrible for a few days. Then, others started to cough. Within five days, Bill was almost dead and five others were following behind him. On the 77th day, Bill died early in the morning and his girlfriend, Stacey, was devastated. She had already been coughing for three days and was really scared she was going to die too. None of us thought about the possibility of Bill coming back, he hadn't been bitten or anything. We put his body in the very back corner of the store room and continued to try to help the people who were sick.
     Stacey would get up and visit him in the back and cry for hours. The afternoon that he died, she went back and we all expected the same thing to happen. She would be back there for at least an hour and then would come back out to join the rest of us. But instead, we heard her make a startled sound and then start screaming. I rushed back and found Bill, renimated and attatched to her neck and shoulder. There was blood everywhere and he was making this sound somewhere between a growl and a moan while chewing on the woman he said he loved. John, one of the students, picked up a metal display shelf and whacked Bill in the back of the head. It stopped him cold, but Stacey fell to the ground bleeding to death in front of us. We tried to stop the blood flow with shirts and other clothing, but she died in my arms while I tried to comfort her.
     The zombies outside heard her screams and started banging on the windows, which drew more of them to the outside of the store. I didn't realize that there were so many right outside our safe area. Everyone else was starting to panic and I had to calm everyone down before they got out of control. I got everyone else back in the store and out of the back, then went back with John. We knew that Stacey would be coming back, she had been bitten afterall. He used the same shelf and took care of her brain before we covered them both us with some boxes and went back out to the store.
     We decided as a group that the four people who were sick like Bill would be moved to the other side of the store, away from us not infected yet. We set up the spot for them and took the last of the cold supplies and some food and water for them, then we went back to our side. I know now that it was too little, too late, but no one knew what else to do.
     Over the next three days, all the infected people died and John and I had to take care of them so they didn't come back. We did not need anyone else getting bit, our situation was bad enough already. I was hoping that when the last person coughing died, that would be the end of it. But we were all infected and didn't know it yet. The last few days have been really hard. Slowly, everyone had gotten sick since those in quareteen died. We all knew what it meant, but we still were hoping to somehow be rescued. Why we still thought this, I cannot say.
    I am the last one alive here in the store. I know that there is no one out there alive now. I have given up hope and know that I will die withing the next day or so and there will be no one to take care of me so I don't come back.  I think this is what is really bothering me. I made sure that no one else came back, but I know that I will be coming back. If I had a gun, I would shoot myself to stop this from happening, but there is only so much available in a university bookstore and a gun is not something that is here.
     I can feel myself getting weaker and hear the zombies outside getting louder. Maybe they will break through the windows before I die from whatever bug this is. I don't know what is worse. Getting eaten alive by zombies, or dying and coming back as one of them.
     If anyone finds this, know that we did our best to survive. Please, God, let people survive and kick the zombies asses. Maybe the world will return to normal some day. That is all I can hope for now.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, April 5

April 5, 2017

   
     There has been no sign of Waters and the men who went for supplies and no word from them on the radio. We ran completely out of food this afternoon after using the dry ingredients to make a flat bread to fill the bellies of the survivors. There is nothing to give anyone for dinner and the water will run out tomorrow morning at the latest. I have seen people giving up hope for survival and will have to bring up the idea of cannibalism tomorrow. I won't bring it up tonight because I don't think people will be hungry enough to go for it tonight. I, on the other hand, have decided that even if no one else is going to go along with my plan, I am going to choose a person to eat and keep myself alive as long as possible.
     Martin Shade called for help over the radio for those in the Emily Morgan Hotel because the undead had gotten in through a window downstairs and were swarming inside the lobby. I explained out situation and let him know that if anything like that happened here, we would not be able to save ourselves, let alone get out and to the hotel. I can't believe the nerve of him, like I was just going to sacrifice some of my people on a vain attempt to get out to save his ass. I told him how sorry I was and good luck, blah, blah, blah.. I advised him to clear everyone off the first floor and block all the stairways. That was the best that I could do for him. I heard people from his group trying to stay in communication while they mounted a defense, but all communication stopped a couple of hours ago. I don't know if that means that they are all dead, or if they are keeping quiet due to the undead. If someone made it to one of the rooms, they could survive on the mini bar for a few days at least.
     Right now, I would be willing to kill anyone to be in one of those rooms with any amount of food. I am not used to skipping meals and am not happy about it. I am willing to eat someone right now, but have to wait for the squeamish to get over they icky feelings. It's meat, plain and simple. The other, other white meat.
   

     I find myself wondering about what happened to Waters and his men. I hope they didn't just abandon us and save themselves by running off with our supplies. I know that I probably would have if I was the one in charge of those men. I know that I am not brave or selfless. I am one of the survivors and I will do anything to survive. I will sacrifice anyone, in any way, to keep myself alive. I still have a supply of ammo that I did not turn over when I made everyone else do so. I also have a bit of food tucked away in my room, hidden in the wall. If I have to, I will barricade myself in my room and defend myself from the undead and the living alike. I will kill anyone who tries to take from me and I will add them to my food supplies. I will live! I will survive! Even if Waters does not return I will find a way to survive.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, April 3

April 3, 2017

     My name is Samuel Williams and I am writing at the request of PFC Phillip Waters. He went with a group of brave soldiers to try to bring supplies back to those survivors stuck in the Alamo. We have around 2,500 people here and food is scarce, ammo even more so. If they are not able to get back inside here with the supplies we will all die, either of starvation or from the undead pouring over the walls.

     This afternoon, the plan was put into action. On the opposite side of the Alamo from the exit point, we did everything that we could to make any kind of noise. We had a few firecrackers and fireworks that made banging and whistling noises. One of the men found some air horns and people shot at the undead to get the noise from the guns going off.  It helped to thin the exit point down to only around 15 deep in undead from the 50 or so deep it had been. Then the 25 men went over the wall and first took out the undead with their silent weapons for as long as they could. Once there were surrounded and could not continue forward, they pulled their handguns and took out the rest in a hurry. Only 18 men made it through to one of the big rigs outside the wall that had been used to bring the slim supplies here. They piled in the cab and on the truck roof and on the trailer for their journey to one of our supply outposts. I really hope they can make it there and back. Thankfully, Waters was one of the men who survived their exit and that gives me a little hope that they might succeed.
          Now, I have to think of a way for us to make enough noise when they return to draw the undead away from the gate. We will have to be fast opening it and closing it and I don't know if we even have the ammo to kill the ones that will be necessary to get them back inside. But that is going to be our only chance to get them back inside and get the needed supplies.
     Meanwhile, we have hungry people here and they are starting to get restless. I don't know what we are going to feed everyone for dinner. I think the only thing we have left is oatmeal and some dry ingredients that can't be made into anything truly edible. We are going to have a riot on our hands soon and there is nothing that I can do about it. I even went to the darkest place last night and thought about cannibalism. My idea is that we could hold a lottery and whoever loses is eaten by everyone else. I don't think anyone else will go for it, but if there is no other choice, maybe people will get on board. Right now, the only thing I can do is pray that Waters makes it back with food and ammo because we had to use most of the ammo to help with the distraction to get them out of the Alamo. If the undead surge again and build themselves into a wave, we might not be able to knock them back, and even if we do, then we have no ammo for the groups return.
     Why, oh why, did I keep letting people inside the walls. I knew there was not enough here to keep everyone alive, but I couldn't start turning them away until I knew we were at the critical point of having too many people inside. That is going to possibly be my downfall and the cause of my death.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

   

From the journal of Correctional Officer Steven Williams, April 2

April 2, 2017
   
     Yesterday, we were still in the post office when I heard loud rumbling. I knew it was either a big vehicle or a bunch of smaller ones so I called Jenna and we ran up onto the roof. From down the block, I could see a bunch of motorcycles and a couple of trucks pulling trailers. The men looked really rough and dirty. I didn't see any women in their group until a curtain moved on a trailer going by. She was naked and bruised and I knew that I didn't want them anywhere near Jenna. I bet I will have nightmares about it.

     I pulled her down closer to the roof so no one would see us. The moaners down below stopped pounding on the walls and turned to shuffle after the new source of food. We stayed low and went back inside. I looked out the front and Jenna went to check the back. We grabbed the supplies and slipped out a back door and down the street to an alley that would get us back to the truck. I was praying that they didn't decide to look in it and take it with them. We would have been screwed if they had.
     It took them about  minutes to rumble by and we had hidden ourselves at the end of the alley nearest our ride. The moaners were streaming down the street following the sounds of the biker gang. We had to wait next to a rotten, smelly dumpster to hide our smell of living flesh and wait another 15 minutes for the street to clear enough to go for our vehicle. I had Jenna stay in the alley and cover me while I ran for the truck. She had go take out five moaners for me and I jumped into the unlocked truck, slamming the door behind me. I rammed the keys into the ignition and put the truck in gear all in one move. I ran over a couple of the undead backing out of the spot and squealed the tires turning over their smeared corpses. Jenna jumped into the bed of the truck and I got us the hell out of there.
     I didn't follow the biker gang, thankfully they were headed north west while we were heading to the Denver International Airport. We got out of Fort Morgan and made it another few miles before we stopped to check the supplies in the truck. We hadn't been able to see it from the post office, so I had no idea if anyone had gone through it. It was all there, which was a relief, even the firearms and ammo. We had brought as much as we could from the post office because we had a lot of food already, but ammo is too important to pass up. It is going to be the currency of the world we found ourselves living in.
     It feels so good to not be stuck in that building anymore. I know that Jenna was going to start going through the boxes in the mail bay, but I let her know we will look for a bookstore or library on the way to the airport. I am hoping for one myself because I would love to find some useful how to books. I always thought there would be more time to learn about things like solar or wind energy. There were lots of things I was going to have to learn if I was going to survive in this new world and especially if I want to keep Jenna alive as well. Even if the airport is still secure, there was more than likely not going to be power or running water. That is something that will have to be figured out. I don't know anything about generators or how to store power once you collect it. I am going to really have to look for a store or library. Now that I think about it, there are a lot of subjects that I am going to have to brush up on. Shit, looks like I was going to be doing a lot of reading in the near future.
     We found a clearing off the road and decided to stay there for the rest of the afternoon and night. Today, we are going to head, once again, for the Denver International Airport. It is starting to feel like we are in a Twilight Zone episode and are always going to be trying to get to the airport, but will never get there.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of Jenna Bless, April 1

April 1, 2017

     We have been stuck in the Fort Morgan post office for 10 days now. The moaners outside have dwindled, but some of the ones who saw us come in here are not giving up. They keep banging on the doors, windows and walls. It is almost like the beat to some techno song. Luckily, whoever stocked this place brought enough food in that we will be able to eat for at least another month.

     I got so bored a few days ago that I took hard envelopes and made a deck of cards. Williams has been teaching me to play different games of poker. I beat him the first day and he said it was because I had beginners luck. Now, I win about half the time. I wish we had some books or something else to do besides play cards and watch the moaners out the windows. I have started naming them to amuse myself. I started with an A name, Amanda, and have gotten to the N, Nick. I guess when I get to Z, I will start all over. I really hope we are out of here before then.
     I got so bored last night, I looked through the mail bags to find personal letters to read. I found 2 love letters that were really sappy. Then today, I found one that is worse than any romance novel my Mom would leave around. I blushed right at the beginning and only made it halfway through before stopping. Wow, someone has an active imagination, at least, I think it was made up.
     I also found some letters between family members, like sisters or parents and adult kids. One was really sad because the guy told his son he had been bitten at work and I know what happens once you are bit. One was really funny because whoever wrote it told a story. I don't remember it all so I won't write it down but I read it to Williams and he laughed too.
     I think tonight I will open some of the packages. Maybe there will be something to do in one of them. I would love a book, any book will do. I would even be willing to read a trashy romance novel which I would never have thought possible before this whole thing went down.
     Williams found a way onto the roof earlier so I think we might start watching from up there. But we will have to stay back and out of sight of the moaners down below, or they will never leave. If we don't figure out a way to get back to the truck soon, I might just go crazy from boredom! I will definately open some packages tonight. There are a couple of  big boxes from Amazon in the back and they might have something cool in them. I hope it's not electronics, they are nothing but useless now. The only good thing you could do with them is shoot them just to see them blow up. I guess you can use a big T.V. as an anchor, if you were on a boat.
     We packed up some of the food in case we can get out, just enough so we can still run while carrying it. Wow, I think I hear something outside. Williams is calling me to come up to the roof. Maybe this will be our chance to get out of this place.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, April 3

April 3, 2017

     I didn't get any sleep because the surge continued through the night. Everyone was called to the walls to beat back the wave of undead three times before 9 p.m. Our ammo was running out and the food was going quicker than anyone planned on. If we do not come up with a plan tomorrow, we will be sunk.
     I finally was able to fall asleep around 2 a.m. and when I woke up, I knew it was worse than it had been last night.  Samuel was waiting for me to show up at 6 a.m. and he climbed up onto the wall with me. We were now at least 50 deep in undead and they kept coming. There was not going to be a way to get out, at least alive. And even if someone made it out alive, there would be no way to get back in with the needed supplies. We were screwed.
     I asked if there had been any radio communication with survivors outside the Alamo and he said that he had talked to one group holed up in the Emily Morgan Hotel. They were also surrounded by undead at least 30 deep. They at least have food because of there is a restaurant inside. They had blocked all of the openings on the ground floor with furniture and were secure, at least for the moment.

     No one else had responded by radio and there was only our 2,500 people and around 1,500 survivors at the hotel. Out of the almost 20,000 people inside San Antonio when the walls fell, only around 4,000 could be accounted for. There was no end to the disappointment I felt hearing this news. Then he told me how much ammo we have left, only enough to defend against another three surges. Our situation was so far down the creek that the missing paddle was the least of our worries.
     Samuel and I agreed that the best use of my time was going to be trying to come up with a plan, any plan, that might improve our situation, so I was taken off wall duty. My men and I met with the group we had put together yesterday and I explained the situation as it stands. It was decided that a group would have to try to get out and the ammo would have to be used to clear a path. Noise at the other side of the compound would hopefully thin the undead on the side that would be used for the exit. We have chosen the group who is going and I am one of them. The plan will be put into effect this afternoon and I am keeping my fingers crossed that someone from our group will make it out alive. Then the hard part is going to be getting back in. I know I said that there is no God last night, but today, I am praying that there is and he is on our side.
     I am giving this journal to Samuel, just in case and have asked him to write down what happens later today. That way, someone might one day know, even if none of us survive. That way, someone might one day know, even if none of us survive. If we are not successful today, everyone inside the Alamo will die, either from starvation or by being overpowered by the undead. Without more ammo, they would surge over our walls within hours and everyone will die.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, April 1

April 1, 2017

     It was a long night. The gunshots never ended because the horde of undead never ended. It was almost impossible to get decent sleep. I gave up around 3:30 am and got up to see if anything had improved.
     No, it was worse. The walls were holding but the sheer numbers of undead was creating an imitation of a cresting wave . The zombies on the bottom were being walked on by other undead who in turn were being walked on. The wall of zombies was growing higher and would soon be in danger of crashing onto the tops of our two walls. I radioed Samuel to explain the situation and he gave the order for everyone to start shooting the top zombies and knock them back and down.
      Easier said than done. We all opened fire all along the wall, all the way around the Alamo. I yelled for everyone to use single shots and aim for the head. We needed to conserve our ammo until we could take stock and find a way to get more. The order was passed down the line and I heard the shots slow down. It took almost an hour of everyone on the walls firing on the wave, but we were able to get the zombie surge under control, for the moment.

     We were in a Catch 22 situation. I knew the sound of us firing the weapons at the undead would keep drawing those from around our position. But, if we did not keep firing at the surge, we would be over powered by the undead already surrounding us. Catch 22.
     Once the wave had been knocked back, I went to find some coffee and something to eat. Instead, I found Samuel and his henchmen waiting for me by the area where we set up the outside kitchens. After listening to them, I knew we were up shit creek, without a paddle and with a slow leak in the boat. We only had enough food for three days at most with all the people inside the walls. Ammo was not much better, especially if the surge continued.
     Samuel wanted to know if I had any ideas for how to restock our position with minimal casualties. I told him he was fucking crazy but told him I would ask some of the men around with battle experience. It was the best I could offer and they all knew it.
     After this little intrusion, I had lost my appetite and just took the coffee. I went in search of my second in command, PFC Ross, and found him cleaning his weapons. I spent twenty minutes or so talking with him and he agreed to think about how to get out and back into the Alamo with supplies. I went down the list of my men and by the time I was on the walls, they had all agreed to ask around. If Samuel and him cronies didn't like it, well then they could come up with the ideas themselves. This one would need all the brain power we could get working on it.
     We had to use the firearms to get the surge under control twice during my four hour shift and I found Samuel collecting everyone's private stores of ammunition to aid in our defense. That alone let me know how dire the situation was becoming. I rounded up my men and anyone else they thought would be useful and we got down to the nitty gritty of coming up with a plan. We cussed and discussed for over an hour and still, there was no plan.
     I was starting to feel like this was all a horrible April Fools Day joke, but no one was laughing, especially not me. I was under no illusions,  I knew that I would be one of the team sent out to find desperately needed supplies and I was not looking forward to going.
     I left everyone with instructions to continue thinking on the matter and went to look for any plans of the Alamo that might be on hand. I was not hopeful about finding any, but I still had to look. I went to Samuel with an update which was not what he was hoping to hear and then asked him about the plans. We spent a couple of hours searching through the administration areas but didn't find anything helpful.
          By the time we were through looking, it felt like it was already midnight. It was only 2 p.m. and all I wanted to do was find a place to catch some z's. I was able to find a spot in the old barracks and knew I would never sleep unless I wrote this down to get it out of my head. I really don't know if we are going to make it.
     We should have been planning for fall back positions from the time we started building the walls. We could have had multiple places ready, stocked and protected so everyone would have had a place to retreat to. I now knew that this is where Samuel was going to keep himself alive and if anyone else made it, that would be fine by him. He made a mistake though. He let too many people in and so  had no supplies to stay alive with beyond a couple of days. And he expects me to get him out of this jam.
     I think I can sleep now. Maybe I will get divine inspiration while I am sleeping and come up with a plan before I wake up. Yeah, right. Like there is a God when the dead are rising and eating the living.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, March 30

This journal was found in the remains of the Alamo after the last battle for San Antonio against the horde of undead from the Darrell K Royal- Texas Memorial Stadium in Austin. The Alamo was chosen as the fall back location for the newly fortified San Antonio area. The journal was found in the chapel.  The piece of the journal that is pertinent to our narration is the part that deals with the Battle of the New Alamo. The author is PFC Phillip Waters who had been assigned to the group reinforcing the Alamo.

March 30, 2017

     We had to fall back to the Alamo last night because a huge horde of undead came from the North East. I don't know how such a large group came together, but it was just our luck that they came to our city before we were ready for such an assault. If they had come a couple of weeks from now, we might have been ready for them. But it still would have been a hard fight.
     They had built up walls and barriers below and along the 410 because it formed a circle that could be reinforced. The city officials had gotten as many people together to make this possible and had organized us into group for different tasks. My group, # 42, had been pulled from the main force to reinforce the Alamo as the final fall back position for defense. We had been towing cars and any kind of construction materials we could find for two days to make the walls taller and thicker. Another group, # 57, were pulled to bring food and ammunition supplies so the Alamo will be ready, if it ever gets that bad.
     We had just gotten the final car into place when yellow flares were sent up from the main walls. This was a call for anyone that was available to come defend the walls. I jumped into the Humvee with half our men and headed for the nearest defense location to where we were at. It took us almost ten minutes to weave our way to the wall and another five to get into position. Once we were in place, we saw the situation was worse than anyone thought. The undead were at least  30 deep all the way along the wall and they were pushing and climbing onto each other to reach the live people they could smell.
     I radioed the man in charge, Samuel Williams, and let him know how dire it looked at the wall. He ordered me to send up a red flare, which is the signal for everyone to head to the walls. I knew that it would be too late, because the wall was buckling not twenty feet from my location. I radioed Samuel again and he told me he was getting reports from every location of the walls getting ready to fall. I was ordered to return to the Alamo with my men to prepare for falling back. The other defenders of the wall started to panic when we turned to leave and within minutes, people were pouring down our side and clearing the area. When we had made it back to our Humvee a horrendous metal wrenching sound could be heard as the weak section gave way. Zombies rushed through the gap and started attacking the people trying to flee. I had to dodge piles of undead eating their prey as well as the cars that had been abandoned on the roads. So, it took almost twice as long to get back to the Alamo than it had to get to the wall.
     We drove through the gate moving between all the people running to get inside for safety. There had to be at least 500 people already within our walls. I could see group # 57 rushing to unload the supplies so they could try to bring more before we sealed the entrance. Samuel arrived with his group of city officials in tow and took over organizing where people were going to be put. He saw me and nodded in my direction, I nodded back.
     By the end of the first hour, there were over 1,000 people inside the walls and more were still trying to file in. I knew we were going to hit the maximum capacity soon, way before everyone could get inside. Besides, how many people can you fit on 5 acres? There was no way to fit all 20,000 and I was really glad I was not the one who had to say when to close the gate and start turning people away. Whoever didn't make it in was going to be on their own.
     The sounds of gun fire was getting closer and I knew we were up shit creek. With the luxury of looking back, I know that we should have gotten the gates closed before we did. By the time we started turning people away, there were over 2,000 people crammed into space that was not going to be enough to be comfortable.
     The walls were holding and people were choosing places to defend on the wall. The soldiers had been backed into the outside of our reinforced walls and were still shooting into the horde. I yelled for them to climb the walls and get inside because the gate had already been welded shut. We got another 500 soldiers inside this way and they brought firepower with them to help in our defense.
     Three hours after the horde had arrived, the walls at the 410 had completely fallen and we had stuffed as many people as we could into the 5 acres. I have no idea how we are going to try to feed and house everyone within the walls. There were people on top of people and it was not going to get better any time soon.
     I am exhausted now. It is around midnight now, most people have settled down to a spot and with the people on the walls, there was barely room for everyone to sit or lay down. Food is already going to be a problem. Group # 57 was only able to make two trips from our storage areas to the Alamo. The walls are surrounded more than thirty deep, so getting out to find more is going to be a challenge. I am supposed to be back on the walls by 6:00 a.m., so I guess I better get what sleep I can. I don't envy Samuel having to make the hard decisions that are in our future. Hopefully, we will be able to figure out the food situation and ammo is not going to be in short supplies. Tomorrow will come early enough and there will be many hard decisions to be made. Maybe God will watch over us tonight. I really hope so.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 27

March 27, 2017

     I will be having nightmares for weeks to come. Last night we stayed in a small town called Henderson and we had found the Henderson Guns store. We pulled our convoy into their parking lot and circled up. Next we set up our perimeter and sentries, then we sent two five person teams into the gun store to see if anything was left. Turned out, not much. Aaron reminded the teams that if anything is left, it will probably be hidden so don't forget to search everywhere. We found some ammo when we broke into the basement, several cases of multi caliber rounds. We also got a couple of scopes that can be used on rifles we already have.

     Once the search was done, we all returned to our camp and continued to make it more secure. We had gotten into the habit of putting the vehicles on the outside of our circle to form a barrier. Then the sentries can post on the roofs and lay comfortably flat for their shift. It helps our people not be so exhausted from standing for their entire turn at sentry.
     Amanda, Jesus and Anthony set up or central kitchen and began to prepare food for our group. Suddenly, there was loud music blaring from down the street. An old Winnebago with covered over windows squealed around the corner and flew into our parking lot. The Winnebago stopped and a group of hippies poured out of it like it was a clown car. One of the women had a guitar and a man lugged a set of bongo drums out and set up their stands. Several of their group started singing loudly and dancing in circles.  A small delegation split off and started to approach our perimeter, which did not go over well with us.
     Aaron ordered them to stop ten feet from the vehicles with the threat of being shot.
     Comments came from their group including: "Wait, dude. We mean no harm." and  "We come in peace." One of their group stepped forward and tried to reason with us. "Hey, I am Moonglow. We can all live together without guns getting involved. The parking lot is big enough. We would love to join your group for the night and pool our resources. We found some fruit in an orchard outside town and some fresh veggies from the garden in the yard."
     Aaron held up his hand to stop the verbal diarrhea pouring out of Moonglow's mouth. "We are not interested in any joining of our groups and would appreciate you all moving on to another parking lot."
     "Hey, it's still a mostly free country. You don't own this lot, so we are going to stay." Moonglow responded and the music swelled in volume from their group of flower children.
     One of the women stepped up even with Moonglow. "I am Sunshine Rose. Would you like to hear some stories? I know some about axes or you can suggest a subject and if I know a story that fits, I will tell it to you."
     "Hey, shut up. Don't you know anything? Sound is one of the things that draws the undead to you. If you keep up that racket, you will have every undead freak in the area converging on our location. And no, we don't want to hear any stories. What is wrong with you people?"
     Several more hippies piled out of the old Winnebago and brought more instruments to join the horrid cacophony they considered music. A tambourine, a banjo and even a trumpet started warming up and no tune could be heard through all the noise. Next thing you know, they were playing folk music and a couple of the women were singing along. A big red headed women in a tie dye dress began barking out a song sounding like Snooki trying to sing for her booze. From down the street, the howl of the undead could be getting closer and Aaron tried again to get them to be quiet.
     "Shut the fuck up! You are bringing all the undead in this shit splatter of a town to us. You need to fucking quit making such a racket!"
     Moonglow made a peace sign towards us and started dancing with the others to their supposed music. The moans kept getting louder and louder. Linda and Aaron got our groups attention and we had a quick impromptu meeting at the edge of our circle of vehicles. It was decided that five of the women would take all the children and put them onto the bus we had found in the last town. Our supplies were repacked up and every available adult who knew how to handle the firearms were given a spot on on one of the vehicles and we prepared to defend our camp from the oncoming undead onslaught. We loaded the guns and got into position within ten minutes of the hippies starting up their noise.
    It did not take long for the group of undead to be in sight. There was somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty undead walking together from one side and around fifteen came from the other side. We were screwed but not as bad as the hippies were. We had at least set up our perimeter and were prepared to defend our people. The hippies continued to make music and dance like death was not staggering towards them from both sides.
     Aaron yelled them to get back in their vehicle, but no one paid any attention to his suggestion. The guy playing the trumpet started playing louder and faster than the others and being that he was on the edge of the group, he was the first victim of the undead mob. A large zombie in overalls reached the trumpet player and sank his teeth into his left arm. Blood spurted out and the smell had several of the undead group turning towards this new source or food. Within moments, the trumpet was silent and the only sound coming from the player was a strangled scream and some wet tearing noises.

      By then, the rest of the hippies were fighting for their lives with whatever they had on hand, which wasn't much. The banjo was smashed over the head of a zombie, but did nothing to stop it's reach for the player. A few crunches and screams later and all the instruments were silent, even if  those who had been playing them were not. The hippies screams made me think of those Halloween recordings of screams and shrieks that people played at their parties. A couple of the women tried to run to the R.V. but they didn't even get close to the door before being pounced on by a group of child zombies and were torn apart. Sunshine Rose was using one of the bongo drum stands to try to keep the undead back but she should have been looking behind her as well. Two zombies came around the back end of the Winnebago, walked right up behind her and attached their teeth on neck and shoulder. She went down in a flash and the rest of the undead jumped onto their new chew toy.
     The red headed woman was backed up against the side of the R.V. and was swinging a broom handle back and forth to keep the undead at bay. Unluckily for her, a legless zombie crawled out from under the Winnebago and latched onto her right calf muscled. This distracted her from swinging the handle and the zombies in front of her joined in on the gobble fest. She shrieked like a banshee of old for about thirty second before it was cut off abruptly.
     "Man, this is such a bummer!" could be heard from under a pile of moving zombies before it changed into a mortal scream. Within minutes, the zombies had devoured the entire group of hippies and were turning their attention to our camp.
     We braced for impact and made sure we were locked and loaded. It took about twenty minutes for us to take out the entire group of undead and we did not lose anyone in our defense. This was the first real test of placing our sentries on the vehicles and it worked wonderfully. We stayed out of their reach and were able to aim and fire rapidly without any friendly fire incidents occurring.
     Once the gun shots stopped, we could hear more zombies headed our way. This was turning into a cluster fuck and we reloaded in preparation. It took less than five minutes and another group of fifteen came down the street. Another round of firing and this group was mowed down, too.Linda made the suggestion that we move on from this location, because if any other zombies were near, they would be headed this way. We packed up and pulled out within ten minutes and moved our camp to the Post Office parking area for the rest of the day and night. This put us at the other end of town and we made sure to make as little noise as possible while setting up so we didn't draw another group of zombies to us. The children were happy to be able to get off the bus and be able to quietly play together. The rest of our day was uneventful, thankfully.
     Tomorrow we make the last push to get to the airport. I really hope this wasn't a fantasy, finding other survivors and supplies there. Time to sleep and get ready for tomorrow.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the digital camera carried by Joan Welsh, found in Austin Texas, found on March 28

This video was found by a force of the Texas Freedom Fighters. The group was set up to find food for the fortified cities of Houston, El Paso and Dallas/Fort Worth. None of them have near the populations they had before the pandemic, but each houses an average of 40,000- 50,000 people. The TFF search any town or city that was taken over by the undead for food and supplies. The digital camera was found lying on the sidewalk outside the Darrell K Royal- Texas Memorial Stadium. The battery was dead but the memory was intact so the Fighter grabbed it for review later.

The screen turns from black to blue then wavy lines appear moving across the screen. The view is of the inside of a car on a city street littered with cars and other detritus. The camera is sitting on the middle of the dashboard facing the drivers seat. The first person you see is an over made up, bottle blonde with a smile that shows all her capped front teeth. Her voice comes from her nose with an over exaggerated Texas drawl. She is wearing a turquoise suit jacket with black slacks and four inch heels.

JOAN WELSH

My name is Joan Welsh from Fox 7 News, KTBC. I have come to the down town are of Austin to see for myself whether the rumors are true that the Darrel K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium has been overrun by the undead. I have come here against the advice of my superiors at KTBC.  This is my big chance to try for a day time Emmy. Well, once the government gets control and life returns to normal. 

She grabs the camera with her right hand and pulls the car door handle with her left. She gets out of the car, grabs a large bag for her left shoulder and closes the door with a loud click that echoes off the buildings around the stadium. She places the camera on the roof of the blue car and strikes a pose with her right hand on her hip and her barracuda smile.

JOAN WELSH

I am going to walk around the stadium to check the status of the building and see if anything is visible through the windows. Our living audience members deserve to know the truth about their loved ones who were evacuated to the stadium. I, Joan Welsh, will go to any lengths to find out the truth for our audience. 

She reaches for the camera and turns to walk towards the stadium smiling so wide, she shows her upper gums. She holds the camera in her right hand and places herself in view with her back towards the stadium between the recording camera and the ground floor view of  the North End Zone building. She focuses the camera and pauses to pull a pair of Opera glasses from the bag on her left shoulder. Then she dramatically turns to look at the windows in view of the camera.

JOAN WELSH

Well, shoot. I can't see anything in those windows. They are filthy! I will continue around the building to see if there are any signs of life through the windows. I am determined to find out the truth that the city officials don't want to be known. 

She pauses, smiles, and poses for the camera then continues walking along the sidewalk.

JOAN WELSH

It has been over a month since they declared down town off limits and evacuated anyone not in the stadium to other emergency centers. Barriers were placed around downtown and the area was sealed off from the rest of the city. Since then, there has been no word from city officials about those people who were taken to the stadium at the beginning of the pandemic. I, myself, have a cousin who was brought here and my family has had no word of what has become of him.

The journalist continues around the building, dodging debris and puddles of fluid on the sidewalk. The only sound that can be heard is her breathing and the click-click-click of her heels on the cement. Every few feet, she pauses dramatically and puts the Opera glasses to her eyes trying to peer through the muck on the windows. Some appear the have been painted with thick, dark brown paint. Others are covered on the inside by what appears to be large pieces of furniture or plywood. Joan continues walking around the third side of the building when she pauses because she sees a few windows that looked clear on the second floor. She almost started to jump up and down with a small squeal, but remembers the camera and visibly gets herself under control.

JOAN WELSH

Finally, I have a view inside the stadium and will see if there is anything moving inside.

She stands watching the window for several minutes before a shadow passes behind it. She turns to the camera with an ever widening smile and points with her other hand towards where the shadow had passed.

JOAN WELSH

I have seen proof that something is moving inside the stadium. I brought an air horn and am going to try to get the attention of whoever is moving in there.

She opens her shoulder bag again and pulls out a white and red can with a blue plastic top. Again, she pauses, smile and poses for the camera. Then she presses the button and a 120 decibel alarm sounds from the small can. The sound rings out for around five seconds and then she stops holding the button. Breathlessly, she laughs and continues speaking.

JOAN WELSH

Let's see if anyone responds from inside.

From inside the stadium, a pounding sound began to be heard. This sound is joined by a chorus of moans. The sound grew louder and louder as more undead inside the stadium are drawn by the noise the others are making. The windows around the stadium begin to show spiderweb patterns and juices are squeezed through these from the force of the undead being pressed against the windows.

JOAN WELSH

Oh, God! Oh, God! I think it is time to leave now. 

The camera view turns from the stadium and starts bouncing as the reporter heads towards where she left her car. Her panting and the rapid clicking of her heels the only sounds picked up by the microphone. She has only gone about ten feet when the sound of shattering windows is heard behind her. She turns and swings the camera with her body to look at the stadium. Four windows on the second floor have been pushed out and undead are pouring out the newly made openings. Several more sounds of shattering can be heard from around the stadium as the journalist turns to run for her car. The sound of bodies hitting the cement can be heard from behind her, as well as the moans echoing out of the stadium's broken windows. It sounds like thousands of voices raised in primal moans all at once. Suddenly, undead begin to stand up from the piles of those falling out the windows, the bodies have piled up high enough that some of the undead are not bashing out their brains when they hit. More sounds of windows breaking sound from the side and above the journalist holding the camera. The view swings wildly as she turns to see how close the creatures are to reaching her and then turns away again to run. The undead are within fifteen feet of the journalist and struggling to escape their completely dead brethren. Squeals can be heard from where the journalist is holding the camera. 

JOAN WELSH

Oh God! Oh, God! What do I do? What do I do? 

The journalist begins to panic as her path forward is becoming blocked by undead pulling themselves out of the pile of falling creatures. A girl of about ten in the remains of a purple flowered dress struggles to pull herself out from under a pile of undead adults, growling and snarling at Joan while gnashing her teeth. A large male zombie falls from the window on the second floor up ahead and rolls down the remains on the sidewalk before getting up and moving towards Joan. Moan can be heard from almost every direction. The sound of the air horn has drawn undead from other parts of the blocked off downtown area. The view in the camera spins around in a circle as the journalist begins to sob and make the sounds all trapped animals make. The circle of approaching zombies grows closer and closer with nothing to give the journalist hope that she will survive her trip today. The camera spins in a circle, around and around, then the first undead reaches Joan. The sound of screams and wet tearing noises replace some of the moans of the undead. The camera falls to the cement and spins from the impact. When it stops, the view is horrific and shows the outstretched arm of a woman being consumed while still alive. Her screams go on for a minute or so and then turns to a gurgling, gasping sound, before finally dying away. The moans of undead trying to get a taste of the journalist are accompanied by more wet, tearing sounds from those around her. The sound of slurping and teeth clicking together provides additional background noise on the recording as the undead continued to eat every last piece of the journalist. Once they had finished, they began to move away and search for other prey. After thirty minutes, the screen turns from the skeleton of the woman into wavy lines before going black.

The aftermath of this incident rippled throughout the surrounding area. The Darrel K Royal- Texas Memorial stadium could hold just over 100,000 spectators. The city had put people in the stadium but also along the hallways and in the any other rooms they could find. That meant there was closer to 160,000 people placed in the stadium as an emergency center. By drawing the attention of the undead inside the stadium, Joan Welsh had caused the windows to give under the pressure of hundreds of bodies pressing against them at once. The undead moved through the downtown area and past the barriers that were put up to hopefully keep them back if they ever were released.  

The Austin/Red Rock area had a population of over 2 million people before the start of the pandemic. The undead in the stadium overran the rest of the city in just a couple of days. By the end of the week, the newly protected fortified city San Antonio had been surrounded. Within the month, there were no survivors. The rest of the fortified cities made their walls higher and stronger and prepared to face down any of the huge herd that walked out of Austin, especially Dallas. They built a series of barriers and cleared them of as many undead as they could. These were deemed the four safety zones and only the Texas Freedom Fighters and the cities enforcers were allowed to move into and through them. 

Dallas never fell to the undead herd. They held out with help from the other fortified cities and then helped the others when they needed it. In this way, these three cities survived together.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of Nathan Sanchez, March 25

March 25, 2017

 
   Today, we continued the search of houses nearby. When we walked into this big, white farmhouse, we found two undead in the living room. It was an older couple. She wasn't in bad shape, only one bite on her arm with her clothes covered in bits of meat and blood.. But the man looked like he had been mauled by a large dog. My bet, she turned first and he was her first meal. Most of the soft tissue on his face was gone and he was missing most of his throat so his head was flopping forward at an odd angle. They shuffled towards us, Mr. Floppy following behind Mrs. Snacker, teeth clicking together every few steps.
     Two of the cousins, Rodrigo and Diego, took care of them with baseball bats, while the rest of us kept out of the way. It was messy but necessary and finished quickly. We split up and started searching the house in teams of two. We had learned it is safer to be in pairs than alone. Darren and I started with the living room. On the side table, I found a letter addressed to whoever finds this and put it in my pocket to read later. (I have placed it in my journal with this entry.)
     We hit the mother load! We found a large stockpile of food, including canned goods and home preserved fruits and vegetables. There were two rifles and three pistols and a huge supply of ammo for all of them. The best find though was the wind and solar power systems and generators. None of the cousins who had come to this house knew anything about moving the systems, but Pedro had gone to school to be an electrician. He had studied all kinds of systems and would know how to move them as well as set them up at home. That's when we realized what that could mean. The freezers were working and that was a small miracle! We would have to transport all the contents and the appliances themselves, we had already moved the ones at the ranch out when the stuff in them rotted.
     There was a brief discussion about moving to this ranch because the power was already set up, but the house was smaller than ours and would need too much work to get it to the conditions we live in now. It took us an hour to load up everything we were taking home today, then we pulled out and drove to the next house.
    The rest of the day was ok. We found more food, weapons and even some medical supplies. After finishing our three locations, we returned to the ranch and unloaded what we had scavenged. Consuela came out and had her army of helpers put everything in the proper storage locations while I went to find Pedro.
     Plans were made to return with Pedro and a couple of the other cousins who were apprenticing with him to move the systems and generators. Our group of cousins will be going with them to show them what we found and because we can help carry the parts back home. It will be nice to have a day off from searching houses even if we would be labor for Pedro and his boys.
     Dinner was a feast! We had brought home several frozen chunks of meat and Consuela's crew had worked their magic. Everyone got a large portion and we had the tables set up in the yard. Lights were strung on the trees and the porch while the food was set up on tables. Food was eaten, spirits drunk, music played and everyone danced. The sentries were changed every hour so everyone could participate. What a night. We probably won't have such a full night for quite a while. I am looking forward to the sandwiches made from the left overs. Tomorrow is looking good.

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From a letter found in the Journal of Nathan Sanchez, March 25

     The journal states the letter was found on March 25 in one of the old farm houses near the ranch where the Sanchez family was surviving.

March 15, 2017

     To whoever finds this letter, if we have become one of the undead walking around, please put us out of our misery. Mindy was bit yesterday and has been running a fever ever since. I think she is becoming like Mr. Vertner, who is the one who bit her.  He used to be one of our neighbors and when he got here yesterday, he was acting strange. I thought there was something wrong at his place or he was hurt from the way he was staggering and so I ran towards him with Mindy right behind. Once we were within a couple of feet, he started making this moaning sound and lunged at us. I jumped back but Mindy tripped and he was on her in a flash. I pulled him off of her and pushed him as far from us as I could. But it was already too late.

     I had to use the shovel by the porch to fight him off. He would not stop trying to get at us but mostly at Mindy. It was like the smell of her blood pushed him into a frenzy and he couldn't stop chomping his teeth and making that sound. It's like something between a scream, a moan and the sound a wild animal makes when cornered. I get chills just thinking about it now.
     We knew some of what was going on through the news programs stopped. We knew that people were coming back from the dead and were attacking people around them. I think the news said it started somewhere in Southern California so I didn't think it would spread here so fast. We had been doing fine on our farm. I had gotten into the habit of picking up canned food whenever it was on sale so we would be ok if we got snowed in and Mindy had been canning and making preserves for years so we had an ample supply of food. Our son had come and switched us to solar and wind power while he was in college going through a faze to save the planet. This turned out to be a blessing because with the power we created, we have been able to keep the fridge and freezer on, as well as continue to pump our well water to the house. I really thought we would be safe here until the government got control of the problem. I should have known that the undead would be everywhere, even here.
     We came right inside and cleaned the bite with hydrogen peroxide before putting antibiotic ointment on it. Within the first hour, Mindy was coughing like a lifetime smoker and the bite on her arm was throbbing. Not long after that, the fever came and she had me close all the curtains because her head was pounding, which is unusual for her. Within four hours of being bit, she was throwing up everything I brought to her. I decided to unwrapped the wound and saw that it was really bad. The area around the bite had turned a dark purple and green color like she had been bitten a couple of days ago instead of today. The skin at the edges of the bite had turned black and looked like it was way past infection to already dead tissue. I have no idea what the right thing to do is. I thought about trying to cut away the really dead stuff, but I have no idea how to do it. I wish I had taken that first aid class with Mindy two years ago, although zombie bites were not on anyone's radar back then so they would not have taught us about them.
     I know I should do something, tie her to the bed or lock the door. Maybe I should leave, or put her out of the state she is now in. But I love her so much and still see our life together every time I look at her. We have been blessed with the farm, children and enough money to not worry every month about how to pay the bills. We have had a happy marriage and taught our children how to be a good partner to someone else. I just can't see her as anything other than herself yet. This is the woman who gave me three beautiful children and kept our house a home while I worked the farm and provided for us. I just don't think I have it in me to kill her, even if she is already infected.
      If anyone finds this letter, I hope that it is not our son or either of our daughters. I wouldn't want any of them to have to be the ones to put us down like I had to put down Mr. Vertner. I don't any of them to have to live with the memory of doing that.
     If we are already completely dead, please make sure we get buried or burned. I don't want our kids to find our bodies or skeletons once they can get through. Please, feel free to take what food you need or stay in our house if we are not here anymore. It makes gives me a little bit of joy to think that our house might save someone else's life, ours has been a happy one here.
     If whoever finds this letter is one of our children, know that we were together until the end and that is how we always said we wanted it to be. I could not leave your mother and know that you understand how much we love each other. Remember the good times and all the laughter we shared as a family.
     Frank, you brought the sun into my life the day you were born and it never stopped shining on you. You were  the best son any man could ever have wanted. I found the Lord the day I looked into your eyes because you were my miracle and I knew that He had to exist because he had chosen you to be my baby boy. I became a better man that day and have you to thank for that.
     Erin , you made me so happy the day you were born. Mindy was so sure you were going to be another boy that she had already decided to name you Aaron James. Well, it changed to Erin Jamie when we saw that we had been blessed with a daughter instead. You made us all laugh at your silly impressions and kept your mothers spirits up when she went through treatment for breast cancer. Without you, our life would have had so much less joy.  I knew in the first moment I looked into your eyes that I had been put on the Earth to be a father to you and your brother. My life felt more complete than it ever had before.
     Shelley, you were our best surprise. You came when your sister was five and we thought we were done with diapers. You came into our life like you live, full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes! You showed us how to live every day like it is the only one you have and to find happiness in even the littlest things. When you were placed into my arms, I knew that I was meant to be there for you through all of life's lessons and my heart grew fuller than it had ever been.
     Know that your mother and I love you all so much and have felt you three were blessings sent by God to fill us with love. Please, don't be sad about us. We lived our lives and you need to do the same, no matter how hard it ends up being. Remember, the Lord does not give you anything you cannot handle and know that we will all be together again in the Kingdom of Heaven. Lord, watch over my children and keep them safe during this very dangerous time.

Lord bless you,
Mark Sharp

As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.