I envy you. I would give anything to have a place with defendable walls a supply of food and cache of weapons. Did you know that the University of Texas at Austin has over 50,000 students? After nearly four weeks trying to stay alive with the effects of this disease raging all around me I have estimated that the rate of infection is around 97%. But that's just those who caught the initial disease. Then of course you have to add in the number of people that contracted the disease through direct contact. I'm guessing the current survival rate is at .07% and falling.
40 acres of limestone, glass, and red tiled roofs, dorms, labs, cafeterias, with so many people in such a small space the disease bloomed here like a match dropped into a bucket of kerosene. Now there are Zeds or "once livings" everywhere, it's impossible to stay in one location for long.
We only have one gun, a 9mm pistol I took from the scant remains of an Austin police officer, it seems the Zeds can eat enough of a human that the disease cant bring them back. And to tell the truth, none of us are exactly good shots so we keep the gun and its remaining seven shots for ourselves if it comes to it, if we get cornered. That's the one good part about not having a defensible location, no pitched battles. We move throughout campus as a small band searching for food and information. In close quarters bludgeons work best, something with a little length. Baseball and Cricket bats are good to crush the skull and destroy the disease ridden brain, but a good broom handle or an oar can save your life by keeping them at a distance. As Alexis recently learned even a small scratch across the back as you're running between groups of the undead, to make it to the next door with a lock, can mean death. I guess there is only six shots in the gun after all. I don't know how long it takes for a person to change, and I'm not about to sit back and find out.
There was a moments revolt after that. Adam of all people thought I had lost my mind and lunged for the gun. Luckily, for him, Sandra's calm logical mind won him over. Adam wont speak to me any more though, and he hardly eats. I'm not sure how long he'll last. Tomorrow we'll have to make another trip to the Jester cafeteria for food. We make the trip in three layers of denim and canvas, jeans, jackets and coveralls we pilfered from the custodian locker room. It's hotter than hell but it limit's the chance of a glancing blow causing any damage. I don't know if Adam will have the strength.
I don't know if anyone has had the opportunity to actually study these things, but they're not dumb. They're not brainless heat-seeking flesh-craving automatons. I'm not sure if it's a hive mind or some form of communication but they are finding us much faster than before. We can't risk more than an hour in the open. And even the thick doors can't hold them back when they stack up against each other, they'll mash the ones in front to nothing but the door will eventually buckle. I'm losing hope.
I hope you are holding up better then our sorry group.
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