A lot happened today.
I explored the basement earlier, I was sure I'd come across a writhing, wriggling hive of the damn rats, but it looks like I don't have to worry.
I started crawling around in the space under the house and man, it's gross. Dead rotting Rat chunks everywhere. Looks like they had themselves a good ole' slobber knocker down here a few days ago. And they ended up tearing each other apart. In fact, the rat that crawled up might have been the sole survivor. Tough little bitch (Tough little Jerry).
I was right. The basement looks secure. The steel bars around the house are intact, and while they wont keep out anymore Rats, they'll stand against infected humans.
I'm not entirely sure about how secure the structure is, a freaking van did crash into the wall and collapsed the entrance after all. But the van clogs the door well and the small spaces are negligible in terms of accessibility.
The basement is secure.
I've made a few friends today.
I was eating lunch today and gun shots fired. That, in itself, isn't too strange. A week earlier, gun shots were all you could hear outside. All day and all night. The battle. The one we lost.
The gun shots settled down and they became rarer as the days passed. Actually, besides the infected, I hadn't heard anything that could be associated with other uninfected humans for a few days now.
The gun shots came from outside, the backyard. They rang three times and then nothing. Quiet.
I was going to ignore it when I heard wails (which could have been the infected, I wouldn't have known) and someone screaming.
It was a woman, from the guestroom window, I spied her. She had a shaking handgun in one hand, and was cradling a limp man in the other.
Ha! Let me guess, in some stupid movie or fantasy story, this is the part where the strong buck survivor male stumbles upon the helpless smoking female and they join together. And screw like crazy.
First of all, this woman as ugly as sin. She was also obese, and pregnant to top it off (I found out later). Turns out the man she cradled was her baby's daddy.
They'd been attacked (their attacker was a dead man, his headless body was heaped a few feet away from them, guess she's a pretty good shot?) by a frenzied survivor as they made their way across the city, through my backyard.
I almost got shot opening the door. Thank god her hands were shaking so hard. But I called out to her and with a few pleasantries ("Don't fucking shoot! I'm human!"), I helped her carry the man inside.
I have them situated in the second guestroom now. She wont leave his side. He's been shot, but he'll live. He took it in the arm. His real problem is a little more serious.
He's fucking infected. His left leg's been chewed on. Dunno by what. Probably a dog. But I wouldn't discount a human. The onset's already started. He's got a raging fever and he's barely conscious. If his body doesn't fight off the disease soon, it'll be too late.
Personally, I wanted to shoot him on the spot. Of course, the damn bitch is the one with the gun. And when I suggested he was done for, she gave me a look like she might just pop one off on me.
Shit, I dunno why I ever opened that damn door for them. They don't know about the basement, so I have that. But I've had to share some of my limited food stuffs with them.
The symptoms appearance in people are varied. A few become Freaks in a few hours. Others take a few days. Some are able to fight it off after awhile. I don't know the hows or whys. But it doesn't take a medical degree to know the guy is fucked.