6 January 2011 

9:00 pm

 

A new year has come, and I believe it is fair to say we’ve adapted as well as we can to this world and its dangers. 

The creatures have ceased to come every night now. But we’ve learned to stay inside with the doors bolted when we hear their distant moaning. 

I suppose it is foolish for me not to give them a name, for we all know what they are, though no one has spoken it. 

Zombies. The living dead. There is no doubt in my mind that somehow when the world changed, these organic monsters were created from all the casualties of the events. All of those bodies, littering the streets and buildings were suddenly gone. And although Devi disagrees, I believe they’ve been brought back to—what would one call it? Non-life.

Garth Macomb, one of our neighbors, was attacked by the creatures not long after they began to appear, before we knew what dangers they held. We could do nothing as they picked him up and threw him over the shoulder of one of them, carrying him off.

Devi and James meant to go after the zombies, but I stopped them. Bullets seem to make no difference, nor do arrows. Fire frightens them, but doesn’t kill.

I am not certain whether I should be horrified at the thought of bringing our child into this new world, but I will. I estimate that he or she will arrive in early May; I confess, I’ve lost track of time a little during these last few months.

Devi is as delighted as I am, but there is still that underlying worry in his eyes. Yet, a baby will be yet another sign that life does go on.

 

– from the diary of Mangala Kapoor