A Little Less Meager Than The Other One

Something has changed. I'd know for sure what it is, but I'm a satellite subscriber, and DirectTV has been down most of the day. I'm not sure where there offices are, but those poor fuckers are toast for sure.

I heard some sirens earlier, and the low rumbling of some kind of big vehicle. It sounded like they were heading towards the river. Bailey Cove is too far away for me to hoof it in the dark... Although I did get a good laugh out of it when I realized that I still have my Dad's chainsaw in the garage. Should I strap the lawn mower to my chest and wield the chainsaw in one hand, or would that be too cliche?

There was some rustling outside, but we opted not to draw any attention to ourselves by shining lights around and trying to take a peek. You lucky bastards with the guns might have the firepower necessary to draw attention to yourselves, but I'm just happy to have a tiny corner to huddle in while I wait for some rescue.

Duncan has been strangely quiet. I expected him to have some serious temper tantrums throughout the experience, but he's been eerily calm and peaceful through this mess. It would almost be comforting if it wasn't out of character with his squawky self these past few days. His silence seems ominous and foreboding to me... even if Wendy thinks it's perfectly normal. He's always sweet and nice when he's got the boobie, and I just can't offer those services. Thus, I see how weird this is... SHE, on the other hand, thinks I've gone mental for pointing all this out.

I haven't seen Claren since we got trapped in the attic. I hope she hid. I'm not so optimistic about Abby... but who knows? Maybe she learned to run from stinky things after getting shot in the face by that skunk. The worst part is that I don't even know if I should welcome them back, should I see them. What if that stuff is in them... and they aren't... right. I'm not up for an Old Yeller scene... especially since I'm just armed with a shovel and a rake.

I told Wendy to take Duncan and sleep in the attic. I'm not comfortable with the reaction time versus the distance between window and bed. I also think that getting trapped in the bathroom would be a bad move at this stage. I think we should have the attic mobility in case some others start shambling about here. I keep laughing that I should be pissed at all these new holes I'm queuing up for repair... but the more I think about it, the more I know we won't be here for much longer. One way or another, we'll be somewhere else before too long.

The quiet is huge... and the sounds that break it are even bigger. Owning an S.U.V. seems like a good idea right about now. It would have been nice to know this was on the horizon. We could have focussed on building UP some debt rather than paying it off. What good is a zero balance on an American Express when you're hiding in the awnings and don't know what tomorrow will bring. I need a drink, but I left the wine in the dining room.

I hope the power stays on... I wonder if anyone is playing Warcraft right now.

When I ran into the kitchen to grab the bottles and formula, my neighbor was standing outside the window. I screamed at her to get back inside before I realized her eyes were glazed over and her right arm was dislocated. She and two others busted in the dining room window before I could cut through to the bedroom, so I took Indigo's advice and ran to the garage.

I still haven't fixed the handle on the door, so I couldn't keep them from entering the garage, but I did come up with a fairly easy solution. I scampered, with Duncan, up the ladder into the attic and kicked it over behind me. I reached down through the hole I made in the roof last January and grabbed a rake that was hanging on the wall. I then used the stick to knock over anything in the garage that could be climbed on top of. The zombies wandered around the garage, glaring up at me with their dead eyes, but they couldn't do anything to get to me.

I still hadn't fed Duncan, so I climbed over on top of the kitchen and knocked a hole in the drywall over the stove. That got their attention, so I went back to the garage and started knocking more stuff over with my rake. I ran back over to the kitchen and dropped down onto the stove. I grabbed the kettle of water, the can of formula, and all the bottles and liners I could get before they started to come back in. I turned on the front two eyes to high and jumped up into the roof again. I drug a piece of timber over the hole and put two boxes of hardback on top of it. Should they decide to check out the brown spot over the stove, they'll get burned while they investigate.

It took Duncan about an hour to calm down. The attic is HOT. I solved that problem by knocking a couple of holes in the air conditioning ducts, but I'm too afraid to stay in that one place for too long. I need to keep an eye on those bastards in the garage. Oh, I did managed to grab the laptop out of the bedroom by lowering a piece of rope through the air vent with a slipknot in it.

I haven't heard from Wendy yet. I haven't heard from anyone, yet.