I did it, and I think she’s still alive!
Damn it, that’s not going to make any sense.
My thoughts feel jumbled, like they’re moving too fast for me to process them. I’m just so fucking happy I could scream.
She’s alive!
I had to walk away for a few minutes, to catch my breath, to calm my fevered brain. My adrenaline was flowing at full blast and my hands had begun to shake violently while I tried to write. I dropped the pen and pushed away from the desk.
I paced back and forth in the living room while Marcus shadowed me at my heels. I headed into the kitchen where I drank some water, and then decided to change his newspaper and then headed back to my desk to document the last few days. I took over a half hour to calm down enough to pick up the pen again. I knew that I needed to start from the beginning….to clear my head and put it all down in the correct order.
It’s been three days since I decided to perform some reconnaissance around my building to see if I could get outside and around my immediate neighborhood without attracting any unwanted attention of the dead kind. I waited until just after dusk on the 24th so that I’d hopefully be harder to see. I don’t know what kind of vision the Z’s have, but I can’t imagine it’s any better than the average humans. I figured it would be best to use the dark for cover and then hope that when the sun came out, the Z’s wouldn’t look up. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all I had.
I opened up my north window, which was the closest to the sloping roof. I was able to shimmy out onto the sill enough to see the edge of it just five feet out of reach. It took some creative effort, a major balancing act, and a struggle with an old broom handle and some duct tape, but I was able to get the hooks on one of my fire ladders up onto the edge of the roof.
I had prepared the ladder by cutting ten feet off the bottom so that it now hung down just to within reach of my second floor window. I had been worried that it might slip when I first put my rather substantial weight on it, and I’d been almost frozen with fear a few times the ladder clanked against the side of the building, but I’d been able to climb up to the roof without issue.
Once at the top, I took a few minutes with my trusty old sock covered hammer to nail the top rung of the ladder to the roof. I’d be much more comfortable trusting my weight to this rickety setup knowing it was anchored with nails. I readily took the chance hoping that if my clanking ascent hadn’t alerted every Z in the neighborhood, then my muffled hammering probably wouldn’t either.
I stood up and moved up towards the roof line. I used the edge of the brick chimney at the north end to steady myself as I straightened up and looked around.
The view from the top of my building wasn’t as impressive as that from the Empire State Building, but I wouldn’t have traded the two right then for anything in the world. Sure, it was dark, and the sky was overcast as it had been for weeks, but I was able to tell that in the day time I’d bee able to see for a good two blocks in every direction. The outlines of my neighboring houses were below my line of sight, and that meant I’d likely have a pretty good view come daybreak. What I really needed was a good idea of what kind of undead activity I had, and I planned to find out after sunrise.
I climbed carefully back down into my apartment and locked up the window behind me. Call me paranoid, but as much as I relished having access to the roof, I didn’t like the thought of having a ladder leading right down into my window. I’d have to reinforce the opening, maybe put up a door in front of it with a lock to bolster my defences. I filed the thought into my mental to-do list and headed for bed.
I turned in early that night and woke up with a renewed sense of purpose just before dawn. Luckily, my digital watch was still working and the alarm coaxed me out of bed right on time. I was going to recon from the roof all morning, and I have to admit I was pretty damned excited about it. I’d been cooped up inside for months, and the thought of actually feeling the sun and wind on my face was making me smile from ear to ear. Marcus picked up my good cheer and danced around my feet as I got ready.
I grabbed a backpack full of snacks and assorted tools I might need to make sure the ladder was a secure as it could be. I also had a range-finder monocle I’d grabbed from my golf bag when I’d cleared out of my apartment. It’s not as good as a pair of field binoculars, but beggars can’t be choosers. I swung the pack over my shoulders, gave Marcus one last good rub of the ears, and headed out the window.
Back on the roof with my back to the chimney, I waited the last fifteen minutes for sunrise. It was very dark and all I could clearly see were the silhouettes of the tree tops across from me. There was very little wind, but what did move past brought the harsh smell of something that had burned.
As I sat there, my breathing slowed, and I realized just how quiet the world had become. There were no sirens, no cars, no planes, no TV, no sounds of music or talking or laughter. Even the usual sounds of the normal Long Island fauna were missing. There wasn’t so much as a bug buzzing about. I was assailed by the absolute nothing around me.
I have to admit, it was pretty fucking creepy.
I’ve felt that kind of solitude only once before when I helped a buddy out in college by spending 30 minutes in a sense deprivation chamber. He needed a guinea pig for some psych class of his, and I liked his offer of beer as payment.
I remember how I drifted off in that water filled, egg shaped contraption. He had said it would be like the womb, though I’ll never know how they confirm that. My memories only go back so far, and – thankfully – floating around inside my mom is not one of them.
Within minutes of the door closing I had felt completely removed from the world. I initially floated gently and at peace, though the feelings of being utterly disconnected grew continuously until they reached a level of paranoid discomfort. I don’t care to think what that says about me, but I’ll admit that I barely made it through the 30 minutes without screaming from being trapped inside with only my own thoughts as company.
Again, it was pretty fucking creepy.
That college experience was certainly more disorienting, but those moments sitting alone on the roof as the sun came up with only the sounds of my own breathing to accompany me were pretty close. I tried to shake it off as the light of day slowly gave me a view of the world around me.
Sunrise revealed that my neighborhood looked like a war zone. I’m not talking about the stylized renditions from the movies, but rather of the bleak visions painted by the nightly news of whatever current Middle-Eastern country was hosting US soldiers riding cowboy style on the back of Humvee’s through the deserted streets.
It looked so different that I almost started to imagine I was somewhere else, but reality kept creeping back in with ever present reminders. I’d be looking at a burned building only to realize that the jungle gym in the backyard was one I’d seen before as I waited at the stop light onto Main Street every day as I drove to work. Cars abandoned in the middle of the street would suddenly stand out when I recognized the local high school’s mascot painted on the side of a crushed yellow bus in the middle of the intersection. The smashed front windows of the Chinese restaurant across the street would come into focus as I recognized the table where I probably used to sit laying on the broken glass scattered all over the sidewalk.
There were a hundred little signs that told me this was my street. These bits and pieces of my old world were everywhere in the jumble of burned buildings, crashed cars and shattered glass. The sight of it all was confusing because everything was horribly twisted and put into a context I had never imagined. This was my neighborhood after the end of the world.
I sat there for hours taking it all in, the harsh scent of the burned buildings occasionally wafting up to me. I soaked up the surreal feeling until I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my pack and turned to make my way back into my apartment sometime after 1PM.
It wasn’t until I was safely inside and playing with Marcus that I realized I hadn’t seen a single Z the entire time.
Great work so far. I’ve been away from the site for some time, and it was a pleasant suprise to find that you’ve caught up with a couple of entries. As always, looking forward to more entries.