The Infected by Gregg Cocking Read Free Book Online

group so that I can get an idea of their… I guess ‘social habits’ is the way to put it. The third and final column notes their speed of movement – one slash for very slow, two slashes for relatively slow, three for slow, four for relatively quick and five for very quick. I have yet to make more than three slashes.
     
    After about half an hour of this I check in with first my folks, then Johan or Owen at Eastgate and then Melanie in Durban. I talk to them inside my cupboard in my bedroom, which is on the opposite side of the townhouse to Erasmus Road (you can’t be too careful). Then I’ll usually update this blog, surf the internet to see if there is any news (although it’s been seriously quiet lately) and then watch some TV. I’ll usually do another three shifts of monitoring the movement between the two light posts if I feel up to it – one around midday, one late afternoon and sometimes one at night (luckily the street lights are still working so I can quite clearly see whatever movement there is).
     
    That’s my day really. I try have supper while watching the sunset from the lounge window before ‘locking up’. Oh, in case you are wondering what I do for supper, sometimes I cook but I try not to just in case the aromas arouse some interest. When I do get a whiff of a fire from elsewhere – I hate to think what is on fire and why – then I will take a chance and fry up some steak or bacon or an egg or two on the stove, but usually its things like two-minute noodles with grated cheese or tinned fruit. Not a-la-carte dining I am sure you will agree.
     
    Before I go to bed (which is now the bigger of the two couches in the lounge – for some reason I feel safer there), I make sure that the doors are locked (I don’t know why I check the front door because I haven’t even opened it in five days), and barricade myself in by pushing a bookshelf and other miscellaneous furniture silently up against it as an extra measure. Thankfully none of the windows can be reached, unless one of the infected is about six metres tall. My balcony does join up to the unit next to me – an idiot Steve and his teenage son who were luckily (or unluckily) away on holiday when this all happened. Because I don’t have the materials to make a barrier between the balconies, and cos I might, but hopefully won’t need to use it as an escape route, I have just filled that section of the balcony with all my empty Coke cans. Judging from what I have seen, the infected won’t be able to climb over the wall without landing on some of the cans and, I just hope, alerting me to their presence.
     
    I will usually listen to some music for an hour or two until I actually feel sleepy – my iPod dock is coming in really handy as I don’t think I would be able to listen to earphones or headphones – the thought of blocking myself off to the noise of the outer world just scares me. When I eventually drift off to sleep I dream about Lil.
     
    Take care
    Sam W
     
    5:54pm, May 13
    Fuck, its cold. Winter is definitely here. Contemplated turning on the gas heater but it is a noisy job. And I don’t know how the smell of gas will affect the infected. Rather safe than dead.
     
    I can’t get hold of Melanie. I’ve been trying for two days. The first day and a half it just rang but now it just goes straight to voicemail. I hope the battery didn’t die from me constantly phoning, but, unfortunately, I think that’s the case. About the fourth or fifth time I called though, it was ‘answered’, but all I could hear was the sound of something dripping. I hung on, calling Melanie’s name as loud as I dared from the uncomfort of my cramped cupboard, but heard nothing until, maybe in the distance, although I couldn’t be sure, I heard a groaning sound. The sound of the infected. I think… I think.
     
    Sam
     
    10:24pm, May 13
    I couldn’t sleep – kept thinking of Melanie. So here I am, a blanket draped over me and my screen – my usual