He... hello...
I am... so out... of breath...
The experiment... was a success... But joy quickly turned to fear when one of the... intoxicated fired up a pub games machine.
Happiness turned into... crappiness as waves of the undead descended... upon the gang.
Even our counter-measures were taken out: A car alarm we had... tactically set off a few streets away had unexplicably failed.
Rope ladders are no good to us if the horde is... big enough. This time, it was.
Every zombie from within about two miles must have lumbered out. We were... surrounded.
Just when all hope was lost, salvation came...
Up the road, a fellow survivor saw us, trapped in the public house, and came to our rescue.
Lit molotov in hand, he sprinted to the nearset vehicle and fired it up.
I clearly remember, it was a Toyota Yaris. It was the same car as my mum has.
Everything was moving so slowly.
There was so much adrenaline.
All this happened so fast, but it felt like a lifetime. Corny, I know, but it really is like that. You take in so much more when your life is at risk.
Revving the engine and honking the horn, the mysterious man distracted most of the walkers for just a moment. We knew what to do...
Escape.
You won't believe how fast I ran... Somehow, dodging twenty or so hungry corpses, I made it out of the pub.
Out onto the street... Out of the frying pan.
Using every ounce of my strengh, I charged through a group of them, scattering them like bowling pins...
And I felt a little scratch.
Legging it away from the angry dead, I looked back to see my fellow escapees hot on my heels, fear in their eyes.
Running for our lives.
I remember, in the distance, the screech of tyres, and the unforgettable sight of a drive-by incineration... Molotov out the window.
Grinning maniacally, I sprinted all the way back here, not daring to look back... I think I'm safe.
Hear my words; alcohol seems to cause zom... FUCK!
They've followed me back! Shit, I've got to get out of here...
REMAIN INDOORS