Late to the party.
Sorry I haven't been on-- I'm fine so far. Things are odd and hectic, as many of you have already noted. Hah. All things considered, things are relatively stable here-- I've got none of 
shadowcaptain's zombie military or any of sabine42's evil cats. I was at work when things started getting dicey this morning, but that's not that bad a place to be. We've got windowless rooms here, sturdy metal doors in the warehouse. We can hold off for awhile. Good thing Dom brought bagels in this morning-- those will last a few days. And a water-cooler. There's a distinct lack of weapons, though. That could be problematic if we need to make supply runs. At least Jason's with me on this. He's read the Handbook, we're good. I hope.
I'm suprised I got through at all-- out internet's been spotty at best. No TV. Phones are worse. I can't get ahold of my mother on any of her numbers, and haven't heard from Skyler since lunchtime. His cell keeps going to voicemail, and I'm starting to worry. He's in the middle of the city, in a fairly populous building. I don't know if he biked to work or what this morning. I hope he took a car. I hope he's okay. All the books say to take a bike, but I bet downtown's a fucking madhouse.
At any rate, I was sitting at my desk at about eleven this morning when I heard a thud. I looked outside the glass doors of the office, and there was a guy laying there, twitching. I was through the first door, yelling for Sara to call an ambulance when the guy got up and started scratching at the glass. Left a bloody mess everywhere. Took me a minute to realize I could see his ribcage through his teeshirt. The black shirt hid most of the gore.
Yeah, I backed up real damn quick. Screamed like a girl, too.
We blocked off the door with cardboard, then braced it with Harry's desk. There was a crowd of 'em outside by then, though. I think hot pink hair may not have been the most inconspicuous choice for a zombie uprising. Zombie. How fucking nuts is that? I've read book after book about zombies, I yell at stupid characters in zombie movies, and when there's an actual uprising, I almost pissed my pants. At least they're the Romero-style ones. Nice and slow and dumb. I think if they were those fast motherfuckers, I'd kindly off myself now. How's that for optimism?
Maybe that's why the intern never made it in today.
Gotta go, power's flickering. I'll check in when next I can.
BLITEOTW.
shadowcaptain's zombie military or any of sabine42's evil cats. I was at work when things started getting dicey this morning, but that's not that bad a place to be. We've got windowless rooms here, sturdy metal doors in the warehouse. We can hold off for awhile. Good thing Dom brought bagels in this morning-- those will last a few days. And a water-cooler. There's a distinct lack of weapons, though. That could be problematic if we need to make supply runs. At least Jason's with me on this. He's read the Handbook, we're good. I hope. I'm suprised I got through at all-- out internet's been spotty at best. No TV. Phones are worse. I can't get ahold of my mother on any of her numbers, and haven't heard from Skyler since lunchtime. His cell keeps going to voicemail, and I'm starting to worry. He's in the middle of the city, in a fairly populous building. I don't know if he biked to work or what this morning. I hope he took a car. I hope he's okay. All the books say to take a bike, but I bet downtown's a fucking madhouse.
At any rate, I was sitting at my desk at about eleven this morning when I heard a thud. I looked outside the glass doors of the office, and there was a guy laying there, twitching. I was through the first door, yelling for Sara to call an ambulance when the guy got up and started scratching at the glass. Left a bloody mess everywhere. Took me a minute to realize I could see his ribcage through his teeshirt. The black shirt hid most of the gore.
Yeah, I backed up real damn quick. Screamed like a girl, too.
We blocked off the door with cardboard, then braced it with Harry's desk. There was a crowd of 'em outside by then, though. I think hot pink hair may not have been the most inconspicuous choice for a zombie uprising. Zombie. How fucking nuts is that? I've read book after book about zombies, I yell at stupid characters in zombie movies, and when there's an actual uprising, I almost pissed my pants. At least they're the Romero-style ones. Nice and slow and dumb. I think if they were those fast motherfuckers, I'd kindly off myself now. How's that for optimism?
Maybe that's why the intern never made it in today.
Gotta go, power's flickering. I'll check in when next I can.
BLITEOTW.