"To whom(That is left) it may concern...

                                            To whom(That is left) it may concern...







      "Two years, four months, and twenty one days. This is Jude Horne, and a big HELLO to whoever find these tapes, That is if anyone finds them... So, it's been more than two Godforsaken years since the shit hit the fan, and we're still dodging the dropping...well i think WE are dodging the droppings, the only other people i met didn't stick around to long before being munched on. Anyway however this all happened who knows? Which brings us to our first order of live and let die, and there's a bunch of the bastards outside, down by the front of the apartment trying to get in. thank god for double bolted frames, but not much else because he seems to be taking a rather long coffee break... Right, first lesson I have for you: YOU are your best friend, if you happen to see some hapless victim being chased down by a pack of Roamers, DO NOT INTERVENE. Now i know you may have a sense of helping-your-fellow-Buddy-in-hell-on-earth that will make you want to charge in with a crowbar and save the day, but DON'T, trust me, all you'll end up doing is killing one or two of the crazy biters and then they'll swarm you, subdue you, and you'll be the dessert following the main course they already bagged. It may seem dark and selfish at first, but at the end of the day you'll be sitting back, sipping an over expired RC cola and think "Gee, i'm sure glad the guy getting ripped apart in the street as he screamed for his mother wasn't me! Thank you Jude horne! you're a real pal!" You're welcome fellow survivor, and way to follow life saving orders! And don't think someone in your position wouldn't leave you to bleed in a heart beat, and by the off chance that DOES happen, well don't hold any grudges, it's just human nature, The world is a free for all in a tight spot, better-me-than-him, you know? You will die with a The-Peoples-Savior state of mind, and its my job to make sure you don't. The horde outside is growing, so its time for me to split. Remember, Stay alert, Stay safe, and most importantly, Stay on the move. DO NOT GET CARELESS! Oh and have fun in Hell!"

      Jude switched off the recorder with a 'click', as he zipped open his Bright Neon Red backpack (so much for subtlty) and shoved the recorder in, next you a pair of boxers he snatched from a half collapsed Old Navy. The back pack was getting to be a bit of a veteren, Their is only so much a one-strap kids schoolbag can take in a Zombie Zone. The bottom was held together by duct tape, the zipper tended to stick or completely come off whenever Jude tried to open it, and even worse, the strap was threatening to come apart if he was a little to rough. Not to reliable in a tight spot. "I'll have to get a new one somewhere." Jude mused as he pulled up his ripped jeans and and tightened his belt as much as he could (safety first).

            Looking through the cracked apartment mirror, he ran his hands through his poorly cut hair. When you're dodging creeps all the time, you can't always take a bath, and long hair can get in the way when there's no room for a slip up. So in name of convenience and sanitation, Jude cut his hair every month with whatever was sharp and at hand, and usually without a mirror ( not an easy task, and usually ending with Jude looking like a four year old who got his hands on mommy's appliances). Jude didn't seem to care, he wasn't an ugly person. Blue eyes, relatively clear skin, and teeth that were pretty well kept (Hey, if you lived in a world with no dentists you would scavenge all the Colgate you could get your grubby little hands on). All in all, a decent looking caucasion (as he put it).  But he didn't really need to be in his current predicament, anyone who would have been a critic was to busy sniffing for fresh meat to notice. So, scratching his auburn scalp, he threw on his tattered Camo jacket and looked out over the apartment balcony.

         

        The night before, Jude had picked the room directly above the front entrance, in past experiences he had been trapped in camp spots with no way out but to fight through the crowd of zombies bombarding his hidey hole, a very risky way to start the morning, a risk well worth Judes time to avoid. So on the way to the apartment, he had roamed through a gas station convenient store, taking out four, one gallon milk cartons, he poured the putride liquid out into a nearby drain. Then, after checking the immediate area for roamers, he siphoned off enough gas from an astro van, and a volvo to fill the milk cartons. Now they we're sitting next to the bed we're Jude had spent the night.

            Jude pulled his pocket knife out of his back pocket as he pulled the moth-eatin green blanket off the bed, snapping the blade open, he stabbed it through the thin material and ripped off a long strip. Jude Slid the pocket knife shut into its clip, catching his finger in the process, he winced and sucked at his finger where a deep cut ran through it. with his wounded finger in his mouth, he carried the cartons two at a time to the window, wrapping the sheet of material from the bed around one of the cartons, he let the last length of material fall into the open top of it. Then, pouring the first of the four cartons onto the roamers at the door, he unscrewed the second one, hearing screams below. Pouring out the second bottle, than the third, Jude rushed to his backpack and ripped it open, pulling out a small, white, buttane lighter. Grabbing the fourth carton, he switched the lighter to life, engulfing the wrapped material seconds before dropping it on the monsters below. Throwing himself to the ground, Jude covered his face as heat blasted him from the fireball that roared to life outside. As the intensity subsided, he looked out over the balcony. The zombies that hadn't died instantly we're staggering aimlessly, gurgling as the flames engulfed them.

        Closing the window, Jude jumped on the bed and let out a lungful of air. "What a healthy and Wholesome way to start my morning." He mumbled, still sleepy and still a bit shook up from the previous incinerating incident. Rolling over, Jude checked his Watch. "Eleven O'clock, Shit i need to get moving." Grunting as he forced himself to get out of bed, Jude Yawned and creaked open the apartment door.

          Looking down both halls, Jude walked hurriedly towards the stairs at the front. The Ancient fire escape had fallen during the first riots, making the main entrance to the apartment the only way in or out. Jude would have much rather slipped away Via the fire escape ladder than burn the hungry loiterers outside, as he had done moments ago. But you take what life gives you. Even when life is a Dog-Eat-Dog cess pool,(In some cases literally) though when it is, its best to change the rules a bit. So when you're given lemons, don't make a delightfully tangy fruit drink. No, instead, cut someone open, and squeeze the juice into the wounds until they submit through inarticulate Screaming! Therefore, Jude took the correct (and morbid) approach, and torched a way towards his goal. Sometimes being grievous is the only hope you have of continuing to breath.MOOORE TOOOO COOOOME