Epidemic 7.3k

January 9, 2032

The sounds in the darkness of the night would come and go. Sometimes loud, but many times not as loud at all. For sure, they were never quiet. Never. The screaming, shrill like sounds that would almost chill the insides of your soul, if that was any more possible than it was anyway.

The nights were bad. Real bad. Whenever we needed to move, it would always have to be during the day. At sun up. Approximately.

We never saw it coming. One day, we were just getting reports that it was a virus with flu-like symptoms. It started in the MidWest and soon escalated quickly to the East Coast. Of course, measures were taken, but it was never considered serious. Even the Government wasn’t too hard on it. Yeah, wash your hands and stuff like that but, for the most part, it didn’t command any more respect than the common cold.

But, then, one day it just happened. People started dying. By the hundreds. Then, the thousands. It quickly spread throughout the nation and, soon afterward, a panic ensued. The Government tried to calm everyone down, but it was to no avail. Right afterward. Like days afterward, something horrible happened.

The people who died as a result of the virus started coming back to life. The corpses wouldn’t stay dead. They were literally clawing their way out of the ground. Walking among the living.

Some thought it was a miracle. Something Biblical. The second coming or something. They even welcomed them into their churches, synagogues and, some, even their homes.

Then, it turned ugly real quick. The dead would seem to sleep during the day but, at night, it was different, everywhere. They would want to eat. People even tried to feed them, but the food they fed them wouldn’t stay down until, one day, one of them took a bite off the living and it was then that all hell broke loose.

Pandemonium spread quickly among the country. They were eating people indiscriminately. And, what made it worse was that they could not be killed. Hell, after all, they were already dead.

We, my mom and brother, lived in a neighborhood located on the South side of Chicago. A place called Lincoln Park. Even before the epidemic got worse, we were plagued by gang violence in our neighborhoods. Children were getting killed indiscriminately by stray bullets. Violence between gang rivalries erupted in the streets all the time. People were killed, sometimes in their own homes as they slept.

As bad as that was, this was worse. Some of those same members of those same gangs were now the walking dead. And, even worse, they were now side by side with their unfortunate victims hunting down and feeding on the living.

Me and my family and some others stayed downstairs, hunkered down in the basement of the Tribune Tower building. Safe. For now. The windows were blocked and sealed up in boards. Men with guns patrolled frequently at night, keeping an eye out. Food was gathered throughout the day.

Even that became dangerous, the gathering of food. Some of the food itself had become infected. And, then, the people that became infected started hunkering down in those same stores. Like they were waiting. Setting traps. It was difficult and very dangerous, making your way in without being attacked.

There were also the battles between other survivors for food. Food was scarce and short all over. People were being killed, not only by the undead but the living as well. Many resorted to living like savages, attacking others in droves.

I started this journal just in case I didn’t make it. So, that someone would find it in case I don’t make it out of this alive. I mean, I’m not scared. I just want someone to know what happened because I’m afraid there aren’t going to be too many left at the pace this is going.

I figured if I secured it at the Harold Washington Library it would be safe there at least. There’s nothing to eat there. Just quietness. Darkness. And, a lot of books. I spend a lot of my time there. Reading. It’s been my sanctuary of sorts.

But, on the way there, one morning with my brother, we were attacked. We fought the creatures off as hard as we could. Finally, we broke free and made it back to the shelter. We told no one about it because we weren’t supposed to have left by ourselves anyway. Unfortunately though, I noticed, a few days later, a sore on my brother’s arm started to spread. He’d been bitten.

We’d have to leave soon or I feared he would become like the undead. So, I am leaving this journal behind. A record, in hope that whoever finds it may know the truth of what happened to us. To my family. To my world.

I’d have to leave it somewhere. Somewhere where, hopefully, someone would find it. This epidemic can’t last forever, I hope. Humanity will have to live again. That’s the resilience of the human being. But, where?

Of course. The library. Amongst all the literature. Someone would have to find it. I’ll leave later on tonight. And, subsequently, forever. I’ll sneak out before sunrise. Take a candle, so I can see. Be careful, the atmosphere there is literally bone dry and just one spark could set off a flame. I’d never forgive myself if I set fire to the place.

Chicago Tribune

January 10, 2032

Virus under control. Thousands Worldwide saved.

Scientists have found a cure. They’re calling it 7.3000. Because of the onslaught, prolonged testing will not happen. The President has agreed, along with other World leaders, that this cure should work to actually paralyze the undead creatures long enough for them to be destroyed.

Scholars are afraid that humanity will never know it’s past or exactly whatever happened to start this awful outbreak. And, more so, how this untested cure that they created can further stop the onslaught of mankind.

It didn’t. In fact, it got worse.

February 15, 2033

It’s getting harder and harder to find food. Supplies. Anything. The stores are wiped out and it’s becoming more dangerous now to even walk the streets, much less go inside a store. The last place we got supplies was at the Mall, and making our way out of that hell hole cost us supplies.

These creatures seem to be setting up traps. How can something be dead? Something that can’t even think, set up traps. Stalk its prey? They’re doing it though. And, they’re getting better at it.

Ever since the so-called great cure, when people came back out thinking it was safe again. The cure that the so-called scientists told us had killed off the virus. People finally came out of hiding. Walking around these creatures who were presumedly dead.

Then, suddenly, they came alive. Just like that. The massacres were unbelievable. People were being killed in droves. Children. The elderly. All killed. They invaded h