Sean Conley's Journal Entry 3

23 December 2012

I am writing this in the back of an armored truck. Steven is beside me, and my sweet Jennifer is receiving medical attention. There are a couple more living people around us, and through my tears I can see the red sky from the driver's windshield. On the day that I finally found rescue, I wish I could have never woken up.
We were in the basement for most of the morning. I told Steven and Jennifer to look through the boxes again, and they were able to find a Machete. I honestly couldn't remember why I got one in the first place, but I was glad to see it now. The plan was for me to go up with the Machete to get some food, while Steven had the shotgun to protect Jennifer in case something was to happen to me.
Two times I tried to strengthen my confidence to go up, but I couldn't. It was hard for me, since if my plan failed my children were doomed. I eventually decided to forget the plan, but then I heard the first sign of relief in the last couple of days.
A person was yelling out of a megaphone, asking for survivors. I was gleeful and confused all at the same time! I was glad that rescue had finally came, but why were they announcing their presence so bluntly? I foolishly thought that this was a sign that the zombie horde was gone. I ran upstairs with the children, and was running towards the front door until we were horrifically interrupted.
Jennifer was the first one, unfortunately, to spot the elderly female zombie at the doorway. Jennifer shriek as the zombie started to charge at us, though it seemed like it was very worn out. I had Jennifer in my hands, and Steven was paralyzed where he stood with the shotgun. The situation looked very bleak, but right when she was going to lunge, her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless. I was astonished, so much that I didn't notice the zombie behind me.
It tried to claw Jennifer from out of my hands. He slashed her face and the left side of her abdomen. I tackled it to the ground. Steven tried to shoot it, but he shot the roof instead (I do not wish to know how he missed the zombie that close). My beloved daughter was in pain, Steven was fiddling with the gun as if it was an alien weapon, and I was battling a zombie.
This zombie was different than the previous. He seemed younger and had more energy. He also had more strength than the others, as he quickly flipped me to my back. I stared into those eyes of death, and it seemed to taunt me. It shrieked in my face, and Jennifer began to cry. He turned to Jennifer, and lustfully looked at her. He lunged at her, but before I knew it a man runs into the house and shoots the zombie to death.
Jennifer was shaking uncontrollably, tears covering her eyes with a wet film. Steven was shaking as well. The savior picked Jennifer up, and told us to run to the massive armored vehicle outside on the lawn. Outside there was smoke covering the red sky. We got into the truck, and we were instantly driving away from the hell that we called home just a few days ago.
The man was tending to Jennifer, and Steven and I were in the corner just watching him work. He obviously knew what he was doing. He introduced himself as Daniel Hewitt, a former doctor downtown Detroit. I asked him what in the world was going on, but he stopped me there. He told me that for now we needed to make sure Jennifer was not infected.
It was then Jennifer looked at me. She looked at me as if I had abandoned her, that I had freely left her to the fate of the monstrosity. I had lost the trust of my daughter. Steven was in the corner feeling like he had done the slashing himself, but Dan told me that if it wasn't for his missed shot that alarmed them of our presence, they would've left us there.
He told me that they were a group a survivors searching for others. They said that they believed that they had information concerning the current events, but it would be a day until we got to their base, which was the top floors of the Sears Tower in Chicago. There was a way to get up there without encountering the dead.
It was then that the reality of all of this hit me, and I became a broken man. I did not talk to any of the other survivors in the truck. I noticed my phone was in my pocket, so I tried once more to contact Janet. No reply. I walked to Jennifer and kissed her on her forehead (might be the last time I enjoy that bliss...), and went to my son and hugged him. If it was hard for me, I couldn't even imagine their feelings. I then sat alone in the corner of the truck, and wept very bitterly.
That is the state that I am in right now. The truck is massive, with large wheels designed to go off road and ride over cars. It is hard to tell whether we are running over cars or corpses at times. Truthfully I feel it would be better to have died in that house than be here, but at the same time at least there is a little bit of hope in this route. Once again I'll try to contact Janet, though I think it will be better to contact her at the tower. All I hope is that Jennifer will be alright. Oh god I hope she is alright...