Get 'em in the head!
Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that it's taken the opportunity to shoot people in the head to cheer Nick up considerably. Well, let's be exact here - they're not exactly people, not any more.
So anyway, the last several hours have been... interesting, to say the least. Since the dead stopped being completely dead and started getting up and walking around in search of tasty human treats, I've been torn between putting my zombie survival plan into action and saying to everyone I know, "I told you I was right!"
Well, let me get it out of the way now: I told you I was right!
I'm not asking where Nick got the sniper rifle; I think it's better just to be happy that he's got one and that it's in good working order (and doesn't have any suspicious-looking bloodstains on it, although good gun maintenance means that Nick would have cleaned them off anyway). Right now he's upstairs at the front bedroom window, with it open just enough that he can get the gun barrel out. Every now and then I hear a shot from upstairs, then a thump from outside. Like I said, he's happy up there doing his bit to keep our little street safe.
As I'm also the one with the working knees, I've been doing most of the running about the house this morning as well, and this is the first time I've actually been able to sit down and take a moment to actually think about things. I'm not allowed to demolish the staircase, says Nick; mainly because he's worried that the cats will fall down the resulting hole, but also because he just doesn't want me to. I suppose he's right; also, I'm not sure we have anything that will actually do the job. Thankfully they're steep and narrow so they'll be easy to block off should the need arise, plus they can act as a handy choke point. Nick has also questioned just why I felt the need to fill the bathtub with water as well as every bottle I could find - obviously our views on disaster management differ a lot here. Still, I won that one.
The cats are understandably a little stressed out by the whole situation. Well, Sandy is - Suki complained a bit at first about the random gunfire and the like, but then just curled up and went back to sleep. As long as she gets fed regularly and can have tummy rubs when she wants, she's just not bothered about petty little things like a zombie apocalypse. Sandy's more nervous though - he can obviously smell them through the door, and he doesn't like it, or the gunfire. Currently I believe he's upstairs hiding under my desk, although he may have decided to venture out and sit next to Nick in his sniper position for company.
Me, I had my own little adventure earlier this morning. While the front of the house is all secure and covered by the household sniper upstairs, I remembered that the back gate is actually still open from when I brought the bin in the other day (that'll teach me to be lazy). Since our back door is considerably weaker than our front, and I just don't want our back yard to fill up with wandering zombies, I had to go out to properly close and bar it, which was a brief but stimulating adventure. I had the Colt .25 (I wanted the 1911A1 but Nick thinks this one is better for me) and a long butcher's knife from the kitchen, just in case I ran into any trouble. Normally the trip to the bottom of the garden only takes about 15-20 seconds; today it took much longer as I was trying to stay crouched below the level of the wall and the gate for safety. Thankfully there are hedges and leylandii trees giving a good degree of cover too - well that and the fact that I didn't actually come across any zombies in my brief trip outside. I heard one or two though - they sounded like they were in the alleyway round the corner, which is a little too close for comfort really. So it's probably a good thing I got the gate closed when I did, or they might have staggered blindly into the back yard and then we'd be in trouble.
What is worrying me is the potential state of our supplies. I don't know if we have enough to survive a long-term siege ("long-term" in this case meaning more than a couple of days), especially if the power goes out. I have a horrible feeling I might have to venture out again, to attempt to reach the corner shop and see if there's anything left we can find a use for.
Anyway, I'd better go make coffee for the sniper upstairs while I still can.
You may be wondering what I'm going on about. No, I haven't suffered a complete psychotic break from reality; this is for Blog Like It's The End Of The World Day. I missed it last year, and I'll be damned if I don't do something for it this year :P So yeah, none of this is actually real.
So anyway, the last several hours have been... interesting, to say the least. Since the dead stopped being completely dead and started getting up and walking around in search of tasty human treats, I've been torn between putting my zombie survival plan into action and saying to everyone I know, "I told you I was right!"
Well, let me get it out of the way now: I told you I was right!
I'm not asking where Nick got the sniper rifle; I think it's better just to be happy that he's got one and that it's in good working order (and doesn't have any suspicious-looking bloodstains on it, although good gun maintenance means that Nick would have cleaned them off anyway). Right now he's upstairs at the front bedroom window, with it open just enough that he can get the gun barrel out. Every now and then I hear a shot from upstairs, then a thump from outside. Like I said, he's happy up there doing his bit to keep our little street safe.
As I'm also the one with the working knees, I've been doing most of the running about the house this morning as well, and this is the first time I've actually been able to sit down and take a moment to actually think about things. I'm not allowed to demolish the staircase, says Nick; mainly because he's worried that the cats will fall down the resulting hole, but also because he just doesn't want me to. I suppose he's right; also, I'm not sure we have anything that will actually do the job. Thankfully they're steep and narrow so they'll be easy to block off should the need arise, plus they can act as a handy choke point. Nick has also questioned just why I felt the need to fill the bathtub with water as well as every bottle I could find - obviously our views on disaster management differ a lot here. Still, I won that one.
The cats are understandably a little stressed out by the whole situation. Well, Sandy is - Suki complained a bit at first about the random gunfire and the like, but then just curled up and went back to sleep. As long as she gets fed regularly and can have tummy rubs when she wants, she's just not bothered about petty little things like a zombie apocalypse. Sandy's more nervous though - he can obviously smell them through the door, and he doesn't like it, or the gunfire. Currently I believe he's upstairs hiding under my desk, although he may have decided to venture out and sit next to Nick in his sniper position for company.
Me, I had my own little adventure earlier this morning. While the front of the house is all secure and covered by the household sniper upstairs, I remembered that the back gate is actually still open from when I brought the bin in the other day (that'll teach me to be lazy). Since our back door is considerably weaker than our front, and I just don't want our back yard to fill up with wandering zombies, I had to go out to properly close and bar it, which was a brief but stimulating adventure. I had the Colt .25 (I wanted the 1911A1 but Nick thinks this one is better for me) and a long butcher's knife from the kitchen, just in case I ran into any trouble. Normally the trip to the bottom of the garden only takes about 15-20 seconds; today it took much longer as I was trying to stay crouched below the level of the wall and the gate for safety. Thankfully there are hedges and leylandii trees giving a good degree of cover too - well that and the fact that I didn't actually come across any zombies in my brief trip outside. I heard one or two though - they sounded like they were in the alleyway round the corner, which is a little too close for comfort really. So it's probably a good thing I got the gate closed when I did, or they might have staggered blindly into the back yard and then we'd be in trouble.
What is worrying me is the potential state of our supplies. I don't know if we have enough to survive a long-term siege ("long-term" in this case meaning more than a couple of days), especially if the power goes out. I have a horrible feeling I might have to venture out again, to attempt to reach the corner shop and see if there's anything left we can find a use for.
Anyway, I'd better go make coffee for the sniper upstairs while I still can.
You may be wondering what I'm going on about. No, I haven't suffered a complete psychotic break from reality; this is for Blog Like It's The End Of The World Day. I missed it last year, and I'll be damned if I don't do something for it this year :P So yeah, none of this is actually real.