Adrian's Undead Diary Enter the World of AUD

May 27^th.

                Campus has fallen apart.

                I’m stealing the time to write this entry.  I think we’ve got it under control, but I’ve said that before and been really fucking wrong.  Once more we seem to have been found by the dead.  At least this time they aren’t carrying weird shit in their hands.

                That’s a shitty bit of comfort Adrian, way to mail it in. 

                Yesterday we all sat down inside Hall E here and tried to figure out what we were doing.  Where do we go from here?  Abby skipped the meeting.  She shut herself in her room and ignored everyone.  It must be her way of dealing with the pain of losing her first love.  My heart aches for her.

                We were making some food to eat, and Hector wandered over into the living room and stopped the conversation when he hollered out “que chingados!”  Apparently that roughly translates to your choice of either “what the fuck?” or “holy fuck, look everyone, there’s a shitload of undead outside.”  Largely the same effect achieved regardless of which translation you choose.

                Of course we didn’t know exactly what he said at the time, but the tone of his voice was enough to tell us something very bad was happening.  We rushed to the windows and saw the very beginning of what has developed into a real fucking problem for us.

                The windows look out onto the middle of campus, largely facing the cafeteria across the lawn and street.  Down to the right, towards the main school building and the main three way intersection that heads towards the bridge were maybe twenty zombies. 

                One or two is negligible.  Twenty is a serious issue.  We rigged up as fast as we could, and made our way outside to handle it.  In the minute or two it took to do that, the numbers outside had doubled.  In the time it took us to get down sidewalk to the street, the number had doubled again.

                When we opened fire, and they started at us in earnest, it was like a faucet had been turned on.   A river of the undead came over the bridge and around past the staff office building.  Ten, fifteen wide, and god only knows how deep.  Those of us who went outside to handle it opened up, but we knew it was too many.  I called out “get back in the Hall!”  And we stared to peel back laying down heavy fire.  Mike and I shot first, sending the front handful of dead down, starting the domino effect.  Front row faceplants, second row is too stupid to step over them, and before you know it, you’ve cut their speed in half.

                Half speed undead isn’t much of a prize when they are coming in like an avalanche.  Mike and I emptied a magazine each as fast as we could send head shots out, and then we got the fuck out.  Mike ripped off a final burst just as I was running past him, and I caught a hot casing right in the cheek.  Hurt like a bitch.  By then everyone was at the door to Hall E, and they began to pour it on.  We got inside, slammed the two fire doors shut, and now… here we are again.

                Completely surrounded, trapped in Hall E again.  This time we were a lot more aggressive.  I got everyone armed and into the windows to start firing immediately.  The last fucking thing we need is for the dead zombie bodies to stack up like they did before.  We were perhaps four hours away from them being able to get right in over the barricades last time, and that shit can’t happen again.

                I told everyone to go cyclic, and start shooting from the back of the crowd forward.  That way, the pile would start away from the side of the building unlike last time.  It seems to be working.  We fired for hours and hours, steadily dropping them one after another.  We half starved skipping meals and only having tiny snacks so we could keep everyone relieved.  It was a well organized nightmare. 

That was yesterday, and we took the entire night off from shooting due to light.  I don’t think anyone slept a wink.  The sound of the river behind Hall E mercifully drowned out any noises the mob of undead might’ve been making.  Today we picked up where we left off, though with a slower, more methodic rate of fire.  It was apparent when we took stock of the situation that flat out opening up on them was a terrible idea.  There were just too damn many to shoot next to the Hall. 

The crowd down at the side of the Hall is enormous.  They’re pressed in, pushing forward like bloody cattle.  Shoulder to shoulder they are at least forty deep on almost every side of the Hall.  If we start shooting them now, they’ll stack up like cordwood again, and then we’re royally bent.  At the moment, the barricades are holding, and we have time to formulate a plan. 

One thing is worrying me though.  Abby.  She’s been up there either shooting, or on watch all of yesterday, all of last night, and all of today.  She hasn’t slept a wink.  Nor has she said word one to me.  I don’t know what to think about her, or her alternating violent, and reclusive behavior.  I tried to get her to take a break earlier, and she glared at me.  She must be working through her pain.  It breaks my heart when I think about her.

Sigh.

I have formulated a plan for getting us out of here somewhat safely, and dealing with the undead surrounding us as well.  I am relying on a tried and true weapon that has served me well in the past.

Lady Gaga.

Will advise if Plan: Fame Monster works out.
               

-Adrian

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