Chera: introduction

Allan wanted my version of how it all began, but I don't know where to start. I guess I'll have to just tell you how things changed for me. My name is Chera and, like Allan I worked in tech support in this building where we've all ended up, I would get up in the morning, come to work (reluctantly sometimes, I'll admit) do my job, go home and go to sleep.

During this time, however, things were a bit different. My parents had been gone for a few days up to Halifax to visit my aunt Linda after much persuasion on her part. I was blissfully alone in the house for what was to be a full week then back to normal on Sunday. I was on my way out to work when I'd received a call from my brother, he was hysterical, telling me to check out the news. On the national news they were reporting on the plane that had crashed into Halifax, creating a swath of destruction from Bedford almost to Dartmouth. Searchers were limited because of some sort of quarantine and so farthere were no survivors. I'm not sure how long I was standing there, time had just seemed irrelevant. All that kept going through my head was the reporters voice saying they weren't expecting to findsurvivors in the affected areas. I was glued to the news for the rest of the day, but no answers had been given.

The next day I was still waiting for news when I'd heard the phone beside me ringing. I think I only answered it just from habit because I don't remember making a conscious decision about talking to anyone. At that point I was probably in shock and my day was about to get a lot worse. When I answered the phone it was a friend calling, his dad was a retired cop and had been called by buddies on the force about the people infecting others and breaking out of quarantine. They didn't know what it was, what was causing all these people to get sick and what was causing the dead to come back to life, but they told him to get out of the area and to avoid the hospitals and highways - quarantines in the hospitals, the militia bases and at the airport had been breached and the infected were spreading out from those areas. He wanted to let me know because there was a militia base down the road that had a quarantine area.

Snapping out of my daze at his words I realized it was becoming evening and I had to get out of there. I assured him I would be fine but I had to find my brother and his family, they were all that I hadleft. I finally noticed the chaos of my neighbors surrounding me. People running around like lunatics, helter skelter with no plan, just seemingly going in circles. I knew if I wanted to make it to PortMorien I'd have to be smart and move quickly.

Dad used to say half of being smart was by not being stupid. At this point I knew I wasn't dealing with rational human beings anymore, hell... I wasn't a rational human being at that point and I don't think I've been one since before this began. I needed the important things: my dad's crank radio (doesn't need batteries or a power outlet), his shortwave radio (takes batteries, but gets the global radio stations), all the batteries we had in the house, a couple of flashlights, sleeping bag, enough food for myself for a few days and food for the cat, my army knife, a short Chinese sword that looked ridiculous but has a very sharp edge, rifle, shotgun, cleaning kit and ammo. I bundled the cat into a backpack and headed toward Port Morien. It was then only place I could think of to go. Cell phones weren't working and when I tried to reach my brother over the home phone all I got was a fast busy.

Heading from the Sterling area on foot, I had thought of trying to get a ride or a vehicle from the surrounding area, but everything was in an uproar. People were running away from the area as fast as theycould. In the distance toward the armories I could see fires breaking out and people leaving. I actually saw my first... victim?...zombie? I don't know what to call it, then. You would think a lifetime of sci-fiand horror movies would prepare you... you'd know what to do or how to react. I'd like to think that seeing it for the first time, I faced it bravely, head on with some kind of witty or sarcastic comment, thenproceed to be a heroine like in the movies, saving the people around me. In actuality I remember looking at what used to be a person. Someone I had vaguely known, they had lived next door to the armories and I had seen them from time to time in the neighborhood, mostly from going door-to-door on Halloween as a child. The most irreverent thing had crossed my mind that they wouldn't be giving out the cool treats to kids this year. As it shuffled in my direction, I remember being frozen in horror, unable to move and unaware of the chaos around me. Then she wasn't there anymore, just a splatter where she had been and a man was shaking my arm asking me if I was alright. I don't know who he was, I remember thanking him in a vague sort of way and heading off in my chosen direction away from the chaos around me.

That time up until a few hours ago I don't think I was functioning properly. I only remember bits, and most of them are in a sort of Technicolor sort of haze. Allan thinks I was in shock and he's probably right. I remember getting to the gully past Tim Horton's and running into my first ... thing... alone. Thankfully I'd remembered to load the rifle. Dad had taught me to shoot a long time ago; he felt that if he was going to have guns in the house he'd teach us to shoot what we were pointing at rather than ourselves in the foot. I think I put 4 rounds into that thing before it went down. It wasn't until I put a round into its head did it go down and stay down. Fragments of old horror movies seemed to prove the logic of making head shots if I could.

I didn't encounter any more after that. It was getting dark and I was looking for a place to bed down for the night. I was passing work when I noticed movement in one of the windows- fluid human movement, notthe disjointed shambling of the things currently stalking the human populous. Taking a chance I made my way past the barricades and tried to gain entry, thankfully I was let in and finally had a chance torelax for the first time since this fiasco began. Just the feeling of finding friends and not being alone any longer was completely overwhelming, I think I cried for an hour straight. Now here we are, we're safe for the time being, the generators will give us power for a time if necessary and the cafeteria has some cooking facilities and a decent amount of food.

I turned loose Salem, my cat, from the backpack I was carrying him in, who promptly found a dark corner and refuses to come out for the time being. I can't blame him; if I thought I could get away with it I would do the same thing. So here we are, trapped, with those things around the outside. There aren't many people out there anymore and I'm more than a little frightened of what's going to happen to us. My parents are gone and I don't know what's happened to my brother and his family. I think they'll be OK. His father-in-law is a fisherman and has a boat, with a little luck he got them clear before anything could happen to them. I refuse to consider any other outcome; otherwise I'll start to question why I'm still alive and what I'm doing here. I don't think I can cry anymore, I don't have any tears left. Now we're trying to figure out where we go from here...