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.
   

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