Entry 8 - Arrival at Forwards Nine

CURRENT SURVIVORS:

After a day’s hungry walk, Jim and I arrived at the promised base, tucked away from the roads and sheltered on all sides by a thick wedge of trees. The clearing was surprisingly large with a high chain link fence encircling the centre in a giant square. On the outside of the chain link fence was a deep trench dug into the ground. Jim explained to me zombies trying to reach the base often fell into these trenches and struggled to get out, this acted as the first line of defence. The fence was reinforced by concrete blocks at intervals, making knocking it down exceptionally difficult even if the zombies managed to get past the trench. There was a single path leading to the main gate, where there was a gap in the trench.

We approached the main gate cautiously with our arms raised and waving so we wouldn't get shot (or have less chance of being shot I should say). The area was eerily quiet. Almost immediately we saw movement on the other side of the fence. Approaching us were three men. The first was the rough military type, he was a large man and his hair was short but unkempt. He strode confidently forward with a machine gun swaying on his hip. The second man slightly behind him was smaller. He didn't have a gun but also had a poorly maintained military hairstyle. The third and final man in the group was Thomas, smiling broadly.

When the gate opened I embraced Thomas while he uttered apologises about not returning. It was only upon seeing him again that I realised I had missed him.

The first man turned to Jim with a searching look, which Jim replied to with a slight shake of the head. He sighed and turned to me "Welcome to Forwards Nine" He said and held out his hand. I took it and shook it firmly. "I'm sorry about Bobby" I told him. He nodded, "He knew what he was getting in to" He motioned towards the second man, "My name is Captain, this here is Doc Runts". The other man scolded "The names Doctor James Rhodes actually" He emphasised and we shook hands. Captain grinned "You must be Katherine?" he asked. I told him it was and he nodded again, I was beginning to get strange vibes off this Captain. "I'll give you the tour shall I?" He said "But firstly, I don't suppose you have any cheese do you?" 

This might be an interesting day.

Still Surviving

Katherine

Announcement: Project Zomboid

Hello readers! Taking a short break from Katherine and Jim's immediate arrival at Forwards Nine to tell you about an awesome zombie game.

Project Zomboid is a zombie survival RPG produced by Indie Stone. I've been playing it a lot recently after becoming completely addicted from playing the demo. Ironically, it's the repeated times you will die that gets you hooked.  I would highly recommend it to any zombie fan out there.

Here is the official website.

Here is the demo download.

It is still in it's pre-alpha stages but has an active development team and community, despite set backs such as being robbed a few weeks ago.

I've been having ago at some story modding for PZ, which comprises of two mods:

In Case Of Fire and

Revenge Of BaldSpot

If you're interested and bored, have a look.

Any for any existing fans of the game, here is some music which probably has some meaning to you:

In a few years, this will be pure nostalgic feelings.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading so far, whether it be intentional or accidentical clicking here. It's fascinating to see the amount of people from different countries who have passed through. Anyway! Back to zombies and casual cannibalism.

UPDATE: My mods got a mention on the official game blog! Right here. I feel so validated.

Meanwhile (Part One)

Dusk had fallen and we were surrounded. I stared out the window out onto the fields of corpses; they stared back up at me. They were swarming and pushing forward, pressing from all sides against the tiny cottage we were sheltering in. Our time for running had come to an end. A cry from downstairs snapped me out of my stupor. I rushed downwards, gripping my shotgun with sweaty palms. The noise down here was horrendous; the dead groaned and screamed and smashed endlessly against our barricades. They would not hold out much longer. Alan turned to me with a panicked look, “How does it look out there?” He asked desperately. One look at my expression and he turned back to the barricades, his answer didn’t need words.

There was a loud crack as the one of the window barricades smashed and fell uselessly onto the floor. Through the hole a man’s face appeared and peered at us with a white glazed eye. His cheek was torn and skin hung loosely off his face exposing his blood stained teeth. I dropped the shotgun and rushed to take a crowbar off the kitchen table. I reached the window just as the intruder attempted to climb through the gap and swung the crowbar at his head. There was a sickening crunch and his body sank to the floor. Behind me I heard other windows breaking open.

They squeezed into the house trhough every hole. I hit another zombie as he tried to get through the gap and spun around to grab the shotgun. There was an incredibly loud bang as Alan’s gun went off, demolishing the face of a zombie breaking through another window. Gripping my shotgun now I yelled, “Alan, pull back! We’ll bottleneck them on the stairs”. Alan looked me in the eye and nodded. Together we turned and headed for the stairs. At that moment the main door collapsed inwards and they poured in. I briefly saw Alan’s eyes widen in shock before they grabbed him, he screamed, and they began to tear bits of his flesh off with their teeth. My last image of him before escaping upstairs was his body twitching uselessly in shock.

Now I sit in bedroom, back against the flimsy door. I hear the zombies moving upstairs and it won’t be long before they find me. There’s no way out. There’s no way to win. I stare at the endless black of the shotgun barrel. I picture Alan’s twitching body, his terrified face and the immense screaming pain of being eaten alive. I place the barrel in my mouth to see how it feels. It feels strangely comforting. I try to will myself away from this place. I picture my family and friends, and the loving home I used to have. I close my eyes in the dying light of the day and embrace the blackness.

Slowly, I open my eyes again and look up at the bedroom ceiling. There is a painted square hatch, so easily missed. This room has a loft.