Zombies Ate My Neighbors: The Zeke War Journal - Part 1

September 21st, 1993

The world has gone to hell. As I write this, the army of what I can only call the undead is growing. What started as a normal day has dissolved into madness…

Early this morning, I was walking to the cemetery to place some flowers on my parents’ grave. As I got closer I noticed that a number of the graves had been dug up. All of a sudden, I caught something in my peripheral vision; something approaching me from my right. I jumped back and saw what appeared to be a “zombie” lumbering towards me. My first instinct led me to believe this was my friend Jesse joking around. In an effort to make him break character, I pulled the water pistol from my pocket and shot Jesse’s face. Much to my surprise, he-who-I-thought-was-Jesse exploded into a pile of dust. I stood there, flabbergasted, not really knowing what had just happened. Suddenly, I could hear low groans coming from behind me. I turned to find a swarm of these things headed my way. Realizing now that this was no joke and that I didn’t have enough water to take them all on, I turned away and started sprinting towards my house.

Upon arriving home without encountering any zombies along the way, I rushed in, hoping to find Professor Dalrymple. Sadly, my legal guardian was nowhere to be found. I had little time to dwell on his possible whereabouts because as soon as I started filling up my water gun, I heard the now familiar groaning of the undead coming from the neighbor’s yard.

Rushing into Steve’s yard, the first thing I noticed was that there were no zombies to be found. I thought to myself, “Did I imagine that groaning?” The sound my own name being yelled startled me. It was Tiffany; Steve’s daughter. “Hey Zeke. Wanna see my new cheer?” I started surveying the yard to make sure all was well. Tiffany seemed perky and energetic, as per usual. Steve was flipping burgers while his 2-year-old son Sean toddled around aimlessly. Steve’s cousins were standing directly behind him, taking pictures of the yard, as if they were tourists in some fascinating place. Steve’s mother was waving her cane around and yelling angrily about something while standing next to the trash cans. Everything seemed normal.

At that moment, the groaning returned, seemingly amplified compared to before. I turned around to find an endless sea of zombies heading towards us. “THEY FOLLOWED ME,” I screamed. Tiffany, being right next to me, saw what I saw and immediately started running. I yelled at Steve and his family; telling them to get out of there, but they seemed frozen in place. Steve was still flipping his burgers. Sean was still toddling around. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t until I hurried over to each of them that they made their way out of the yard. Knowing that I’d soon be overwhelmed by the creatures, I decided to take a quick look around, trying to see if there was anyone else that needed help.

After shooting my way through a few zombies (one squirt each does the trick), I found myself at Mr. Merchant’s pool. And what rotten luck did I have. Mr. Merchant was passed out in his inner-tube; empty bottle of whiskey floating beside him. I jumped into the pool, swimming over to his tube before flipping it over, instantly bringing Mr. Merchant back to conciousness. As a few zombies entered the pool area, Mr. Merchant realized the seriousness of the situation and fled with great haste.

After narrowly escaping the pool area, I noticed two of Tiffany’s cheerleader friends practicing their cheers, completely unaware of the dangers that approached them. I tried to make my way to them, but Mr. Merchant’s backyard consisted of tall hedge mazes that I could not get through. By the time I found a hole in the wall of lucious greenery, it was too late. I burst through just in time to see the girls being devoured by these slow, green demons.

I took one last look around to make sure there was no one else in danger. After finding no one, I set out for the adjacent block, hoping to find my guardian, Professor Dalrymple. He has brought home many fascinating things from his journeys around the world, but I can’t help but think the mysterious chest that came back with him from his last archaeological retreat may have something to do with all of this. In order to find out, I’m going to need to find him.

I’m writing this from Johnny Miller’s backyard. Mr. Miller is Professor Dalrymple’s only friend in the neighborhood, so there’s a good chance I’ll find him nearby. As of right now, there is no sign of an undead prescence. Still, I must proceed with caution.

It’s getting dark…