The View from Here, More posted 9th June

[ForgeCorvus]

Hiya Guys
Seeing as I've spent a lot of time reading other peoples hard work I thought maybe it was time I put my bollocks on the chopping block.
Hows this ?

*Disclaimer, I haven't done any creative writing since my 'O' levels... So if its crap, I'm sorry*
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To whom so ever reads this journal
Know this, the Dark Times are upon us and the Doom of Mankind is staring us in the face. This is an account of how I, Richard Crowland, survived during the End of Times when the Dead Walked the Earth....

Re-reading this I can not believe that less then a hour ago I wrote such a load of pretentious drivel. Sorry about that, it must be the role-player in me that makes me want to ham it up. I will try to do better from here on in.
I could tear that page out and start again, but that would make it the third time and as I am not yet short of tinder or bog-roll I think I will leave the first bit alone as a reminder to try not to sound too much like a tit. So, I have decided to write this as though I was writing to a mate (Wotcha Mate!)

Now, why am I writing this?
Well I love PAW fiction (I read “The Day of the Triffids” when I was ten) and my favourite form of book is the 'Journal' type (I blame ZS and KathyinFL for that), this I will say here and now is not fiction. Also I admire people like Pliny the Younger and Samuel Pepys who witnessed some massive events and wrote them down pretty much as they were happening. If only my scribblings last as long as either of those.

Anyway, let me tell you about myself.
You can call me Crow, everybody does. I hate Richard and as for calling me Dick, just do not go there.
I am forty, carrying a bit of extra weight and I hate running. All that said I am not unfit just slightly out of shape, I have (or is it had?) a psychical job lumping round half hundred-weight sacks in a factory and driving the forklift (those propane bottles do not get up onto the back of the truck by themselves you know, Muggings here has to lift them ). In work clothes and carrying a light load I can cover a mile in under eleven minutes and about fifteen times a year I put on armour and pretend to be someone else for the weekend.
My hair is black, over long for fashion and thinning....Seemingly around the white ones. This and the fact that my knees think they belong to my Dad, serve as reminders that I am never going to see twenty again.
Still, I am better off then the thing underneath the loft trap..... He has been dead since yesterday morning but as he is a Tazzy he has not noticed yet.

[majorhavoc]

Quirky as all get out. Let's hear some more.

[DannusMaximus]

Keep on, amigo!

[ForgeCorvus]

Thanks guys

I can't promise to post as often as you do, but I'll try not to let it go fallow for too long

I think I'll borrow an idea off Tac-Air and add the up-date's date to the title

[ForgeCorvus]

A hundred views so far, heres some more
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Chapter 1

Now, I have always been a bit of a survivalist (hate that term... Makes me sound like I sit in a bunker and wait for the world to end) or a prepper if you like. I personally have always thought of it as common sense, I was a cub scout as a kid and “Be Prepared” has a logic to it that you just cannot deny. I carry what I have always thought of as my boy-scout kit, it changed over the years but the basic idea was always to have a few bits and pieces to deal with life's little bumps.
A couple of years back I started to lay in my 'future-proofing' ,some stored food, some gear like stoves & stuff and some books (like a shelf full), although no firearms (as this is England, I have nowhere to shoot and and I do not think that blasting reared pheasants out of the sky is a sport) and I never saw the point in PM's. Too expensive for a start, plus no-one would take them in a short term disaster and in the unlikely event of TEOTWAWKI I would rather have something I can use. I do know that I now have egg on my face regarding that last statement (if you ignore it I will just pretend I never said it) but that is how I planned my stash.
A year or so ago I discovered a website called Zombie Squad and found out that there are quite a few folks out there who think like I do .“Hope for the best and prepare for the worst,while helping your fellow man along the way” I think sums the mindset up.
They always made a point of saying that 'zombie' was a metaphor , I can not help but wonder what some of them think about the “I even prepare for Zombies Ha Ha” in-joke now

I am getting ahead of myself here, I suppose before I tell you why I am in my loft and why there is a dead guy waiting for me below I should tell you how there is a dead guy there.
Just in case you have been living at the bottom of a mineshaft since August I will begin at the beginning..... Well, a beginning any way.
It was just after the Paralympics, so early September, that reports of a meningitis like illness first noticed in Lithuania was sweeping across Europe (which for some reason known only to themselves the tabloids dubbed “Romanian 'Flu”). The red-tops and some of the sensationalist TV channels tried to outdo each other with their scare-stories, talk of 90% infection rates, 30 % fatalities and high risk of survivors having permanent neurological damage.
The Doom-sayers of all stripes were ranting at any journalist that would hold a mike that this was It,The End, 2012, Rapture and all that jazz...... Turned out to be a damp squib al-la Y2K or Bird 'flu.
It was just a viral meningitis strain that was unusual in only in the respect that older people were just as likely to catch it. I got it, felt like crap for a week or so and went back to work early October..... Big deal.
So, when word of PTAS came out of Africa no-one cared enough to make any kind of thing about it, a couple of journos tried to kick up a fuss but John Q Public were far too interested in which celebrities were shagging or had gone into rehab or fallen drunk out of China Whites at half past sparrow-fart in the morning. People eh?
If you have not heard of PTAS then you really have been hiding under a rock.....Maybe you know it as Taz or Primate Thanatotic Animation Syndrome (depending on if you read a red-top or a broadsheet, either way it would have been somewhere around page five........ If it was the Sport, try “Monkey Rabies”).

To sum it up in the simplest terms, it is a disease that causes a recently dead primate (apes and monkeys that is not bishops) to simulate life to the point of enacting common behaviours(Yep, that means a dead ape up and moving around, climbing trees and stuff.) It is still a corpse and it does not need to eat or sleep, it however is rather clumsy and uncoordinated. This phenomena continues for a few hours to a couple of days before decay renders the body non-viable......Yes, I plagiarised that bit.... So sue me.

Just had to rewind my hand-crank lantern, the noise made my unwelcome visitor start up with the moaning and pounding on things again. When it gets too dim to see by I will have to stop until morning, it has gone midnight and I have been stuck up here since ten this morning..... Yesterday morning I mean. I am going to have to experiment and see just what 'they' are capable of..... Sorry, I am wandering again

Back on topic
A week ago something changed, PTAS infected a human and then the poo hit the screw big-time. Within a day there were cases reported in Gibraltar, Italy and Greece.
Most of Europe closed their southern borders and panic reigned all around the Mediterranean for a couple of days until several doctors and scientists managed to prove that no-one had died from PTAS, all the Tazzies reported were people who had expired from other causes. The dozen or so known victims (or rather the infected corpses of them) were not engaged in any sinister activity(you hear me Romero), but rather wandering around or repeating simple actions (often those that they had frequently performed while still alive). This was rather distressing for the bereaved relatives and no doubt freaked a few medical staff out, but the Zompocalypse it was not.
That however did not stop the lunatic fringe from sounding off again, especially the book of Revelations and the whole “The Dead shall walk the Earth” stick.

Meanwhile back on planet Crow, having just about got my finances sorted out after missing a couple of wage-packets I was back at work and scrounging any overtime going and Fran was going to go away on a home visit to see my In-laws (they live just outside of Bath, like the other side of the country).

So, I am at work the day before yesterday and it is about tenish and I have just gone outside for a rollie (bloody smoking ban !).... One thing I should mention, where I work there are several machines and each one has a guy working on it. Each guy seems to have his own radio and no two are tuned into the same station, as you can imagine it sounds like hell. One of the guys, Col, sticks his head out the door and says “Crow, can you fix radios? Coz mines just fucked up”.
I asked him what happened and he said it just stopped playing and started to make this “Funny buzz”, I walked back into the factory and none of the radios are playing. They are all giving out the same tone.
“Got summat! Radio one ” one of the guys shouts and nearly everybody starts to tune in their own radios
“........I repeat, a curfew is now in effect. Anyone seen in a public place will be detained, the Police and if necessary the army will be enforcing this edict. If you cannot get home quickly you must shelter in place or go to a nearby home of a friend, relative or work-colleague.......Anyone outside of their home or shelter at or after noon today will be assumed to be a looter or an infected person and will be dealt with harshly under the emergency powers. This is your only warning..... As of twelve o'clock GMT Fire-arms officers and the Military will have an order to 'Shoot on sight' any individual they believe to be Infected..........”
Then there was a thirty second pause and
“This is the BBC with an important announcement from the government. Due to PTAS infection martial law is now in place. Profiteering and Looting will not be tolerated.....All public transport is to return non-stop to its point of departure for trains and ferries or to its terminus in the case of buses with a circular route.... All petrol stations are now under the control of your local authority's disaster planning committee, all sales of vehicle fuel will now cease. Managers of fuel retail outlets will remain in place until relieved by authorised personnel......All motorways and major roads are now closed to non-emergency traffic, if you are on an A class road or motorway you must leave at the first available exit....... A curfew takes immediate effect, I repeat, a curfew is now in effect. Anyone__” I turned away at this point and went to get my stuff.
The guys were all still listening hoping that somehow it was not true or that they had heard it wrong and the announcer would say something different.
Col then says to me “What're we going to do Crow ?”
I told him that I did not know what he was planning, but I was going home. When he asked how with no trains running, I pointed out that Dowse (the small town where I work) is only seven miles up river from my village and that I could walk it along the bank in a couple of hours.
I went upstairs to the break-room to put my coat on and grab my bag, when I was halfway down the stairs the announcement's spell broke and almost to a man the guys ran to the factory car-park and sped off not caring about bumping other cars, ramming the gateposts or running the slower moving guys down. Panic probably kills more people then anything else.....That is not to say I was not panicking, but rather I was panicking in the right direction.

The lamp is getting dim, I had better stop this for now.
*
*
*

It is a couple of hours later, I just woke up because of the cold and rather then use the lamp I lit a candle.
The flickering light makes the room look different and my eye just fell on my sallet........ I think, in the morning I am going to do something fucking stupid

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Comments?
Brickbats or praise, either way I'll know someone is reading

[fourpaws]

haha FC, Im loving it mate... then again Im biased.. Im English ! But seriously... starting well, good use of current stuff thats going on and Im liking the references to ZS etc etc... very believable...

So as the saying goes.................... M O A R my friend..

[ForgeCorvus]

I'm currently working on part three
My question to ZS in general is how (in your opinion ) could I improve the writing ?

[fourpaws]

I like the (and correct me if I'm wrong) "diary" style that you're using.. almost as if either someone else is reading it or the author is sat in a cabin telling a group of people his tale... yup.. works for me...

Just one proposal though.. and this is no way a dig at our cousins across the pond... and yes, I know at some point, the military and police will be armed and no doubt firearms will be found and scavenged... but please please please can we try and keep guns out of this story as much as possible ?? It is the UK after all.. and were not allowed to have bangsticks as the gub'ment don't like us having 'em.. it'd be good to keep true to form ...

Just my tuppence worth FC...

[Manliest]

I'm not really qualified to criticize, but I don't see anything to object to, either.

I really enjoy reading fiction by you Brits. It gives me an excuse to use your accent in my head...

[DTyra]

Looks good FC, keep it coming! I agree, it would be good to demonstrate survival minus a British gun. Cricket anyone?

[ForgeCorvus]

Well, if anyone wants another helping, here it is
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Chapter 2

Well, My whole body hurts but I survived..... More on that later, I want to try and record events in the correct order.

Where was I?....Oh yes

I got to the bottom of the stairs and looking out the open roller-shutter door watched my workmates acting like chickens with their heads cut off. Then as I went round the factory shutting the machines down and turning off the radios, Annie (who works in the office) came out onto the factory floor and called out to me “What just happened ?.....Everyone just ran out of here like there's a bomb or something”
I told her that she should listen to the radio as it was just beginning the repeat the transmission again.
“What should I do?” she asked me after a minute
I said “Go home, get your lads home and stay home, that's basically what they're telling us......You got much food in the house ?”
“No, I do my big shop tomorrow.....Why?”
“Do yourself a favour, hit Tescos on the way. Buy a load of cans, dry pasta, rice...Stuff that doesn't need electric to keep” I said as I reached past her to switch off the last radio
“My eldest has my car, he's out with his girlfriend.......There's still power here”
“What do you think is gonna happen at the power station when they hear that broadcast?..... I'll tell you, same as happened here and I don't think its gonna run on its own somehow”
“ But my stove is electric how am I going to.......” She broke off as the shop-floor phone-bell rang, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the walk-about handset held it up and “Hello?......Yes Howard, I just heard it.....No its just me and Crow.....No, I've got the keys so I can't......” I tapped her on the shoulder “Hang on” and to me “What?”
“If he's coming for you, I'll lock up...... He works at AT's? They sell some camping gear don't they? Tell him to get a couple of gas stoves and plenty of gas”
“If you're sure ” she said and then finished her call.
She walked back into the office and when she came out with her coat and bag after a couple on minutes said “I'm not sure how I'm going to pay for this extra stuff you think I should buy”
I told her “Bung it on the plastic, rob your phone bill money if you have to. It doesn't matter. Just make sure you've got food for at least a week for the four of you and Joel's girlfriend if she's got nowhere else to go...... Make sure you've got batteries for a radio too”
“Errm, the only one we have in the house is on Howard's Hi-Fi and that'll be mains won't it?”
I picked up the old twin deck cassette player/radio that I'd just switched off “Here you go......Go on take it, I'm sure Col won't mind if you borrow it” I looked at the back “It takes six 'D' cells, those are the big round ones....Get as many as you can, ideally at least two spare sets. The government will broadcast info so check often but don't leave it on all the time” A horn sounded outside “Give me the keys and go”.
Annie stuck her hand into her handbag and passed over the keys “Thanks!” she threw back over her shoulder. I wished her good luck, but I do not think she heard me.

I finished shutting down the machines and locked up the main door, the smaller store shutter and the fire-exits and just before I left I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, Annie insists on drinking bottled water (despite the fact the Britain has one of the highest quality tap-waters in the world) because she believes its purer (I however have read the bottle label, what does she think 'Dry Residue' means?). I was pleased that she was running true to form and had left her current one and a half litre bottle in the door, half full but that was no problem because the tap was right there.
I left a note on the door 'Annie, I owe you one bottle of water... Thanks, Crow'.
I finished locking up the office after making sure the computer was off, set the alarm and locked the front door then the chain and padlock on the car park gate.
Rather then walking around the road that runs through the estate I turned my back to the factory and walked over the patch of rough ground to the hedge, slipped though a gap in it and climbed over the post & rail fence. Three more paces took me across the verge to the by-pass road, I then turned right and followed the white-line until I came to the bridge over the river. I followed my shadow north and homewards.

My mobile is not the newest going or the slickest design but it does have the one thing I prize the most..... Battery life, I am not a person who lives on their phone but when I need it then I must have it work. That said I have been looking into changing my network as the coverage for my current one is crap around here.
I had been walking over an hour before I must of got to a hotspot, it was at that time that my mobile gave its “incoming text” tone and vibrated in my pocket (I set it to ring and vibrate due to noise pollution at work......Remember, about the machines and radios ? ). Anyway it was Fran, we text a lot because of the dodgy coverage and a burst transmission will get through when a voice will not
R U Home ? I cant leav. Army stop me.
I stopped, sat down and replied. Not yet walkin back. U @ P's ?
I drank some water and rolled a smoke while I was waiting.
Goin thr now. Go 2 Mr John. C if he OK. Txt me whn U back.
I sent Betr shift. Out @ Noon= Bad. Wil goto Johns. U STAY THERE & SAFE!!. Lv U.
I finished my fag, drank some more water and picked up my pace.

I still can not get that phrase out of my head, “The army stopped me”..... It takes time to arrange for blockades, someone somewhere has to sit down and plan how many troops need to go where. Then someone with the military clout needed has to issue the orders and then Warrant bearing life-forms have to make sure that the squaddies are were they should be. Even if all that had to be done was open a brown folder in some office somewhere it takes longer then a couple of hours to lock-down a whole city....... I smell something bad , and I don't like it

Perhaps I should explain just who Mr John is, he is an old boy (in his 80's ) who lives a couple of doors down from us. Shortly after we moved in Fran struck up a friendship with his wife, we used to drop round a visit them and when John got ill we helped them out (took her to go see him in hospital etc. ). She died a few years back but we still do odd bits of shopping for him and look after his dog when he is away for the day, he does stuff like taking in parcels for us and things like that. Just being old fashioned neighbours really, we know several Johns so we call him Mr John when we are talking about him.
Anyway, to get from the riverbank to my house I have to cross the railway at the level-crossing by the station. The station is on the other side of my village and is almost exactly a mile from home, that is how I know that I can cover a mile in under eleven minutes (if I leave home with less then that to the trains departure I know I am going to have to run....And I hate running)
I have walked that route twice a day on most weekdays for the last four years, I have also lived here for most of my life....... I have never seen the place like it was that lunchtime.
No people, no moving cars, no noise.... Just plain weird
I had just turned into my road and was walking by the house on the far side of Mr John's from ours when a police van pulls up (the first vehicle I saw since leaving Dowse), two coppers jumped out and ran to a nearby house while the driver shouted at me “You! ! You better live here ”
I reached into my bag and pulled out what I thought were my keys and held them up.
“Get off the street now!” He said, as he opened the door of the van I noticed that he was wearing a holstered pistol. He made ready to draw “Ten seconds to get inside or you're nicked” It was then I realised that the keys I was holding were the spare set to Johns place, I made a decision that I'd better go there and wait until the coast was clear rather then try to explain my mistake to an armed and obviously stressed man. At least the lock did not stick, as I closed the door the other two coppers came out of the house carrying a couple of shotguns each then put them in the back of the van and climbed in. The driver shouted at me one last time “And stay in!”

Just inside John's door is a noticeboard, pinned in the exact centre was a note with my name on it.... Here it is.
Hello mate
They came round at 11 and told me they are evacuating all the vulnerable people, so the women with kids and the old farts like me are going to be picked up soon.
They said we had a quarter hour to pack an overnight bag and fill in the form they gave us, you know I have had a bag packed since I got took to the hospital that time so I thought I should write you so you know what's what.
Tommy is shut in the small bedroom, he has water and his biscuits but can you let him out this afternoon and again tonight. They say we can come back in the morning or tomorrow afternoon at the latest so I can see to him then.
Funny thing is this here form wants to know if we have any animals or guns in the house, why would they need to know that ?
Got to go they are knocking on the door
Thanks Crow, see you in the morning mate
John

I let the dog out into the garden and while he was doing his thing I started writing a list of stuff I needed to do, head of the list Water
I have a twenty-five gallon hot-water tank and it has a header-tank that must hold at least twenty itself, I also store water in a couple of recycled poly-pins (four gallons each ). I have several other water containers that I store empty and use for camping and going to events, these include three five gallon plastic home-brew beer kegs that are painted to look like real barrels that I use when larping.... I would never get away with using them at re-enactments so they have not had many outings recently.

I know they told Mr John that he would be back in the morning (that would have been yesterday, thankfully he was not ) but I am still smelling a rat here, evacuations do not just happen in a couple of hours any more then blockades do.

When I got home I sent Fran a text that I was home and that Mr John had been evacuated. I spent the rest of that afternoon filling my water containers in the upstairs bathroom, checking my food preps and waiting for a reply. After dark (and a quick visit next door) there was still power so I fired up the computer and logged on to my email and my preferred prepper sites. No emails and I mean none, not even those annoying notifications from Facebook. ZS was more then a bit strange as well, none of the hardcore lifestyle choice guys seemed to be on. Just several different threads started (and also mostly written) in poorly spelt English with no punctuation or in l33t, all along the lines of “Yay! Zompocalypse..... I am going to go a loot some guns and head for Walmart, the password is 'Swordfish' remember it or I'll shoot you”. I tried the TV and all the radio channels, nothing apart from the same broadcast on the BBC (even the telly had just a rolling banner text version)
I searched for PTAS using all the engines available to me and all I could find was stuff that had been published over a month ago or a transcription of the broadcast...... At three in the morning I caught myself asleep with my chin propped in my hand and my elbow on the desk and so went to bed with a radio for company.

Having slept badly I was awoken sometime after nine by a crash followed by an explosion and automatic gunfire..... Lots of gunfire.

I piled out of bed, pausing only long enough to pull on a pair of joggers and grab a quilted shirt I opened the bedroom window and stuck my head out. Nothing out front so I then went downstairs and out the back door.
Big fire burning over the back field probably on the main road that runs on the far side, lots of shooting and people screaming. I can not believe I did this, I walked the length of the garden and past my workshop (read 'shed') in order to look over the fence at the end. This put me maybe fifty yards from the road, the two burning trucks and what looked like a mob of people attacking each other and running either away from or straight at the soldiers who were shooting at just about anyone who came near. Total madness, then I saw two people running towards me. The first was a 'larger gentleman' who was shrieking like a girl as a skinny guy chased after him, just over the fence the skinny guy ran the fat bloke down and started biting him. After what seemed like hours but I am sure was just a few seconds the fat man must of died as he shut up, then the skinny fella seemed to loose interest in him.
However he soon noticed me, he probably heard my retching as I tried really hard to throw-up my own toe-nails. He ran full-tilt at the fence like he did not notice or did not care that it was there. I built that fence and it was fine for what I made it for, keeping the horses in the field..... It was never designed to keep nutters out and so it did not.
I hate running....... But that does not mean that I am bad at it.
I did not look back until I was halfway to the kitchen and he was close, I went through the door like a whirlwind and tried to slam it behind me.... Only to hear it bounce off the guy, I hit the stairs three at a time got to the head of the landing and in panic just headed straight up the loft ladder and into the loft. I pulled up the ladder, slammed the trapdoor down and dragged a couple of full water barrels on top of it.

Then I remembered to breathe.

I spent most of yesterday stuck up here, I dug out a stove for tea and heat. I have food stored up here as well as water and a bucket with a lid for the other thing, along with my reference books and writing materials I have a hand-crank radio. This last has proved to be worth the money, it was just getting dark outside when I started to get interference on the BBC signal so I started to re-tune. Then I heard the first new piece of news since this began, they were just off the band for BBC1.
I tried to copy it down, here is some of it

I'll tell you again. This is Outbreak Freedom radio coming to you from a secret location, we don't know how long we can continue to broadcast so listen up and listen good.
The Tazzies are dead, they aren't Uncle Joe or your brother no more.
All they want to do is eat you. The only way to defend yourself is to put them down. You've got to destroy the brain to do that, if you cut the head off the body stops but the head can still bite you if you let it.
Don't let them bite you coz you'll turn into one of them, and try not to get blood in your mouth or any open wounds... I'm not sure if that's bad or not, but I'm hoping it ain't coz if it is I'm Tazzed to.
There's at least five of 'em outside the booth and if I don't turn, sooner or later I'm gonna have to deal with 'em.
Don't trust the Man. Coz the Government deals in secrets and lies
The Army don't know what they're doing but I know they're a tool of the Man.
Remember Head is Dead.....Anything else is just dancing
If you can find somewhere with thick walls and small windows, Tazzies are stupid but stubborn and some of 'em can use doorhandles.... That's how Sparks got it and I got splattered.
They're breaking in.....The is Outbreak Freedom radio signing off........
Come on then you fuckers!!!

Then the screaming and the shouting as a brave man fought not for his life (which he knew was lost) but because sometimes you just do not quit.


After that, probably a long time after that. I had to do something or go nuts, so I started this journal.

I'm going to have to stop for a while, yesterday and this morning are beginning to overwhelm me. I'll make a brew and then I'll tell you about this morning

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I'll admit to being a comments whore, so feel free to post (even if its just "Get a gun! ")

[Angry Sapper]

Loving the British input, keep it up. Now kill the zombie, nip down to the road pick up a rifle and carry on normal jogging.
But come on "lower forms of khaki life" bit demeaning In my opinion. Also, we don't wear khaki, and haven't done from the late 60's.

[Manliest]

Winning.

[ForgeCorvus]

Loving the British input, keep it up. Now kill the zombie, nip down to the road pick up a rifle and carry on normal jogging.

Thats the plan for the next chapter...... But we all know about plans don't we

But come on "lower forms of khaki life" bit demeaning In my opinion. Also, we don't wear khaki, and haven't done from the late 60's.

Lower as in not Brass..... Mind you I do get what you're talking about

I've tweaked it so it says what I wanted to write rather then what was read..... In my defence, my parents were both Navy

[Angry Sapper]

Surprised you never called the soldiers, Pongo's.

[ForgeCorvus]

Surprised you never called the soldiers, Pongo's.

Because I know just how rude that is.......Nicer then "Brownjob" though

[TacAir]

Now that you have gone and started this, you will catch merry hell of you don't keep up with the postings.

Speaking of which,

MOAR>

[ForgeCorvus]

Sorry its taken a while, RL got in the way....... Plus I had to re-write part of this to try to make sense
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Chapter 3
Where to start? Probably best if I pick it up from the most recent happening, i.e. my dumb late night idea.
Just in case you are not into arms & armour (least-ways the stuff that is not Kevlar or has a cyclic rate in excess of five hundred rounds per minute) a sallet is a type of helmet popular during the C15th. Mine is painted black and I wear it with a falling lame bevor that covers my chin and throat, those combined with the brigandine, the knee cops and the arm pieces give me enough coverage to class as full plate in most LRP systems..... My armour is made from metal because using anything else seems like cheating to me, a lot of games class Norton plastic as an acceptable phys-rep. I can not help it that I am an armour snob, but it helps when I transition to re-enactment. Even though I mostly go Viking or Saxon for those.

So, this morning I got up and did those things that I normally do. Only I had to improvise my sanitary arrangements, good job I have some spare lidded buckets and a load of plastic bags that I used for the solids.
By the way, I can not think of anything that is a bigger wake-up call (to the new normal) then peeing in the half-full bottle that you had to use last night.....Unless it is using the bottle that someone else used last night! Yuk!!
I was going to tip it out of the dormer window, but then it would of run into the rain-gutter and ended up in the water butt. I know that I have to treat that water before I use it, but I would rather not add to the contaminants.

Then I dressed in Lycra leggings and a silk shirt which is what I normally wear as an under-layer with armour. The leggings because unlike boxer's they don't try to creep into your crack and the silk shirt because I've never found anything more comfortable for the job, keeps the chill of the metal off you in winter and wicks the sweat away (by the way, no matter what the weather is like as soon as you put on armour you sweat).Then I kitted up, you arm from the hips outwards so I started with combat knickerbockers (padded breaches, I wear these under my costume when I go Viking as they save me from bruises) with old army surplus braces to hold them up. Then a spare pair of combat boots (I buy a couple of pairs at a time and wear them until they die) followed by the greaves and the knee cops, I wrapped some bandage around my knees before I put the cops on as I still have not got round to getting some new neoprene knee supports.... Might be a bit late now.
Next the Iron-Horse, my protective box. It is an old steel monster with rods re-enforcing the wide canvas belt that buckles at the back, I think it might have been made for wicket-keepers.... I do know its nearly bomb-proof and so a great place to put my valuables when the archers come out to play.
Next my arming coat (two thicknesses of black denim with leather re-enforcement on the shoulders, elbows and the inside of the forearms) then the brigandine on top of that. Got to make sure all the plates on the inside overlap properly and that I don't pull the buckles up too tight, too loose and it slops around but too tight and you can not breathe. The arm pieces are already pointed together and onto the brig's shoulders but I do not fasten the straps yet as the next phase is harder to do, I twist my hair round itself and tie it in a knot at the nape of my neck then pick up my bevor and tie the sternum point (I use para-cord for my points, historically a no-no but this is my larp armour so who cares) then buckle the nape strap. Now to buckle the arms down starting at the biceps, testing for free movement on the elbow and then the wrist. My duelling gloves with the curboullie splinted backs and the sallet round off the harness.

Now to the problems, the garret room is used to store my larping weapons (which are all foam and latex on a fibre-glass core and therefore no good in a real fight) as well as my armour, my camping gear and my preps. Most of the my re-enactment weapons (like all four of them) are kept with a lot of my tools in my shed, which you should remember is a hundred and seventy feet away at the end of my garden by the fence that the Tazzy broke through. So, the only vaguely weapon like thing I have up here is a bit of one inch dowel a little longer then my forearm that I use to hang my brig on.
Problem two is the fact that the hatch is roughly eight feet above the upstairs landing and I could not drop the ladder and climb down it fast enough to not get grabbed from behind by Mr Zed, so I was going to have to jump while wearing an extra two stone of steel and hope not to fall down the stairs or break anything.

I moved the water containers then slowly and as quietly as possible opened the loft trap, I could not see Zed but I could hear the low moan it let out. I paused and wished I had sent Fran a last text, then realised I was being defeatist and promised myself I would send one afterwards. I put my back to the wall and a boot either side of the hatchway, reminded myself that if I fell over I needed to pitch to the left to fall into the bed-room doorway and not to the right to rattle down the stairs.

I flicked my bevor up, slammed my visor down and stepped into the void

I jump off the back of lorries all the time, sometimes I jump off stages. I know I can handle that sort of drop, this was a fair bit higher and I was loaded with steel. I just about kept my feet under me but lost the grip on that pathetic little stick and ended up in a crouch with the wind knocked out of me.
Then instinct kicked in, I could see Taz in the dim hallway as a dark shape outlined against the white tiled walls of the bathroom that it was standing in the doorway of. So I rose from my squat and surged forwards, hitting it across the throat with my armoured left forearm in the kind of dangerous high tackle that would of got me sent-off back in my rugby playing days while my right hand reached down to grab the back of its thigh. If we were going to end up contact fighting, I was going to be the one with the upper-hand. We smacked down on the lino and I heard at least some of its ribs breaking, it pawed at me as I pushed down hard on my arm crushing its trachea whilst my right hand scrabbled around trying to find a purchase on its body.
I know a few dirty tricks that friends who practise martial arts have taught me, some of which are capable of killing a normal human being......But corpses do not need to breathe and could not care less about pain or broken bones, I needed a weapon and I needed it now.

Fran is always going on at me for being an untidy worker but this time I might win the argument.
A couple of days before I had been trying to put up a shelf and a mirror over the sink in the bathroom, that wall is a partition so after using a stud-finder to locate the uprights I poked a hole through the plasterboard and into the timber. To do this I used what I call my bodkin, it is a square-section awl with a shank about five inches long and a pear-shaped handle that fits into the palm of my hand. I had left it on the shelf and the impact of two adult bodies hitting the floor had jogged it off, I caught sight of it sticking up where it had landed a foot away from my head so I grabbed it and made like Norman Bates on the top of Zed's head....... I was still stabbing away long after it had stopped moving and might of still been at it now if I had not heard a noise on the stairs.

I pushed myself to my feet and ran the three steps to the top of the stairs where I saw another of them crawling onto the landing, I kicked it hard in the head knocking it back down the flight and then rushed into the bedroom. Rolling over the bed to my side I reached under it and pulled out my bush-bag (I do not call it a BoB as “That is something those crazy survivalists have” according to Fran), pulled the straps loose to open the flap and grasped hold of Marybell. She is my kukri, I bought the blade years ago and fixed her up with a box-wood grip and made the karda and chakmak from an old file. Marybell is my go-to tool for most camp tasks and bush-crafting, I know she can cut through a wrist thick sapling and I hoped that she would be up to this task.

My new attacker was that fat guy I saw killed, he reached out....
Got to stop thinking about them as people, it is a corpse. A thing. Not a human being.

….IT reached out to grab me and I swung Marybell as hard as I could into the crook of its right elbow, she did not let me down as the sweet-spot cleaved through meat and cartilage causing the forearm to fall free. I had pushed my weight forward onto my leading right foot in order to backup my power-stroke making us too close for a second cut, so I lead my recovery by smashing my right elbow cop up under its jaw.
It was like pounding on a tree but it gaining me the foot or so I needed for my next cut, a classic sky-to-ground overhand chop to the other arm which turned my body from right shoulder presented to facing the other way. So I released another fore-arm smash to the upper chest while hooking Marybell to be back of its knee and draw-cutting like I was using a sickle in an attempt to ham-string it.
This is when it fell backwards through the bed-room door and took its second trip down the stairs with me in hot pursuit, I am not sure how I got downstairs without tripping or killing myself but I ended up kneeling on its back hacking away at the base of its skull and the back of its neck until I was through the bone then a thrust into the brain stem and a quick wiggle of the blade stopped it thrashing about.

I need to get a thrusting blade something like a bollock knife or a roundel dagger, a kuk is a great chopper but its just pants for stabbing into brains...... How come nobody ever mentioned that in the knife reviews ??

I walked into the kitchen then shut and locked the outside door, a quick check of the dining and living rooms showed I was alone on the ground floor. I stepped over the body at the foot of the stairs and climbed to the landing, walking towards the bathroom door I opened the door on my right to the small back bedroom and looked inside. My heart leapt into my mouth as I caught sight of a figure out the corner of my eye, the adrenalin surged as I started the fight-or-flight response and dropped into a semi-crouch while bringing my hands and blade to en-guard.... I burst out laughing as I realised it was one of Fran's uniforms hanging on a picture-hook, then I stumbled back into the bathroom and barely got my bevor down before I threw-up into the sink.
As I straightened up I saw what I looked like in the mirror, helmet, bevor, brig and arms to the elbow splattered with who knows what..... Not just blood, even more revolting then that.
I stripped away my gloves trying really hard not to touch the 'fluids' then the sallet and the bevor (though I had to cut the pointing on my chest as it was dripping wet) I ran a small amount of water from the hot tap into the sink, like just enough to rinse it clean. Then dumped the bevor and helmet in to it followed up by about half a bottle of Toilet Duck, it might screw-up the padding but it is supposed to kill nearly all known germs and because it is scented I can not use it to treat water.

After I had cleaned Marybell and my armour as best I could I took a walk to the end of the garden, I grabbed my weapons and some tools and nearly filled the wheelbarrow with useful things. I wanted to only make one trip but I had to make a second for the sheets of ply. Next weekends job was going to be a new roof for Fran's shed (yes, we have a shed each.... It saves fights), however I think I put the materials to a better use under the circumstances.
The back-door and kitchen windows now have shuttering ply screwed over the glass (I have decided I love my Yankee screwdriver, it will put two inch No8's in all day if you have to... And I had to) as well as a 2 by 4 as a bar across the door, the living room window has ply backed with two inch square section timber on the inside of the glass behind the net-curtains so hopefully it will not be that obvious.
I am not too worried about the front door (three hinges, yale-lock, five leaver deadbolt and eight inch slide-bolts top and bottom) , but I fixed more ply over the four small glazings in it anyway.

After I put on some personal protection (rubber gloves with plastic bags taped on as sleeves, spraying mask and a pair of goggles) I moved the bodies outside along with any contaminated carpets and soft furnishings, I just used a Stanley to rip through to the underlay or the floorboards if I had to..... The stairs are now really noisy, I will have to put something on them to deaden the sound.
Because the water in the bath is possibly contaminated I have been using it to dissolve Virkon crystals for disinfecting with, Virkon kills Parvo virus and Foot & Mouth so I have been mixing it up double strength and hoping it is up to the job...... What else can I do ?

The house and my gear is now a clean as I can get it, I have fortified as best I can.
Our bedroom window is now blacked-out and I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed (The coverlet was a total loss due to smears but the rest of the bedding is fine)
Water is not too tight, but it would help if it rains soon.
Food is OK as is fuel, good job we switched back to a wood-burner in the living room.
Now the bad news, I have not been able to get hold of Fran because both the land-line and the mobiles are out.
I can not find Tommy from next door, when I went round the front door was smashed in and the house looks like there has been a riot in there...... I collected all the canned food Mr John had, I left a note and hope he does not mind.
Nothing new on the radio

I am really aching now, sore muscles and a banging head...... Time for a quick check all is secure then I am going to bed with a large tea and a couple of paracetamols.

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[DTyra]

Looking good Forge and I'm waiting...

[debralee]

I like your story. Only have one problem,,I need more.

[fourpaws]

Getting good FC... Looking forward to some more mucker...

[Laager]

Okay, I'm hooked........looking forward to moar......

[Nancy1340]

Very good story. I am looking forward to the next chapter. Thank you.

[bobagentofhydra]

Good writing great detail can't wait to read more!!!