Journal of Alexander Bryce

Entrie 07

September 7, 2023

46 days into the apocalypse.

The past two weeks have been hellish, for the lack of better word.

Sometimes, I think if I were a writer, I'd have been better able to describe and document my expiriences. But then I realise I'm writing a freaking journal. So, what's the point in trying to write more nicely? Besides, who'd want to read a story about a zombie apocalypse, in middle of a zombie apocalypse?

Anyway, back to the main topic, two days after my last entrie, we were out scavenging for more food and supplies, and making some progress on our journey. We still had a long way to go. First leave Brooklyn, and then make our way through Staten island, and then probably days and days of travel down the road.

While making our way through Brooklyn, we took notice of quite a few things. Namely bodies. It's not like we haven't seen dead bodies before. Both me and James had seen our fair share of it while on our journey.

There were bodies of the Plagued, who were shot down by the armed forces, and unfortunate people/survivors who couldn't escape the rampage.

But some of the bodies we found on our journey were different. Those bodies seemed to be.... fresh. Not sure if that word can be applied to the undead. Heck we even once ran into a body of a guy who had been shot.

All that confirmed one thing to us. We're not alone. There is someone or some group in here with us too. And the day of August 26th, we ran into that group.

As I said, me and James were out scavenging and making our way through the borough. It was around noon, when suddenly we heard a gunshot ringing in the air. Both me and James were stunned for a second, wondering what had happened. And then there was another shot.

James had quickly taken out his rifle and fired in the air. A few seconds later, there was another shot, and then James fired again. And then we saw a flare getting shot up in the sky. Despite the flare being barely visible in the daylight, we still got the idea of where it came from and made our way to the location.

Half an hour later, we finally came across another group of people. There were six men in the group. All were armed with guns.

We were hopeful. Maybe we can convince them to tag along with us, having larger numbers is always beneficial in this scenario, or potentially trade with them. But all our hopes were rushed the moment those guys pointed their guns at us. And it was at this moment, we realized that these weren't regular survivors. These were bandits.

James wanted to fight, and so did I, but we both knew we were outnumbered and out gunned. So, we surrendered, hoping to talk it out, but the chance never came. It didn't take long for them to restrain us and take our guns and provisions away.

"Other days we'd have to force 'em to come with us." One of them, probably the leader, spoke,"But, looks like the meat came to us themselves today."

We were then taken to the base of these bandits. It was a police station. Ironic isn't it? The place that has once provided judgment to these type of peoples, is now a shelter to them. The whole place was guarded by outlaws, and other criminals, as well as corrupt officers who had joined them. All under the leadership of one, Billy Williams.

From what I have heard, Billy was the leader of a gang. Just a week after the chaos in New York, Billy saw an opportunity and took it. Using the manpower he had, and his influence among the police, he had taken over a police station, using it as his base. A perfect place for surviving in the apocalypse ridden New York.

They had weapons, ammunition, and a lack of humanity. His forces, including mostly men and a few women, consisted of about twenty of his men, and another dozen officers who had joined them. Billy and his men had captured many survivors, and had forced them to work for him. We were no exceptions.