Deadfall: Survivors by Richard Flunker Page A

people that left Albemarle, only thirteen made it. They were attacked by zombies three times, and once, from within, from people who had died at night.
    Evan made it to the airport right about the time the last of the flights had stopped coming in. He quickly turned out to be one of those resourceful types that volunteered to venture out into the city to scavenge and look for survivors. He was one of the first to volunteer to go further out to search for people and supplies.
    There is one clear item of information I came across in my talks with him and the others; Evan knows how to use a gun and has pretty good aim. Years of hunting I'm sure. I will need to spend some time with him.
    Beneath the southern redneck facade and the lone gunman type attitude, it was clear to me that Evan had difficulty when he was describing the scene at his family’s house. His voice faltered just a bit, a small hesitation, far different than his usual bravado, but just enough to show that even he was not immune to the horror of a lost family member. At least I have not seen my father zombiefied, and then killed. Is everyone out here just a fragment of themselves?
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Evan’s Notes: He described me well enough.

Tague
    I must start this section by mentioning that for those few first couple of days, I thought his name was something like Tak, or Tach, or something of that nature, because that is was his name sounded like. Well, today I finally figured out the proper spelling, and will have to go back and change the spelling on previous entries.
    Ok, Tague is a French Moroccan (he calls himself that, an attempt at European humor perhaps), who looks nothing like either. He seriously looks far more like a Swede or some other Scandinavian. I found out that his mother is Danish and his father French, and that he was born in Morocco. Unmarried, unattached, Tague had been a CNN reporter for seven years before the apocalypse began. He was actually stationed in Spain to cover the last moments of humanity on earth should the comet have hit. He had been bound and determined to film any incoming mega tsunami, so that the rest of the world could see it live before being obliterated.
    He, like Evan, describe d the partying that took place in the northern coastal city of Vigo, a small town on the very edge of the country facing the Atlantic Ocean. It was also in the Spanish countryside, under rumors of insurrection or infighting that he caught his first glimpse of zombies. He recalled how he got his camera out of his car to film the mass exodus of people, when another group of people came over the top of a hill just above the road. He talked about how he was filming and just wondering what had happened to this new group of people, as they must have been very injured in the way they walked. I remember a comment about him zooming in and having to rub his eyes, because he simply didn’t understand what he was seeing in his camera viewfinder. Then, the refugees on the road began a stampede as it seemed that the zombie horde had found the end of the crowd, and was fighting and eating their way through, right as this new group of zombies was falling down upon them from the hill. For the first time in his life, the guy who was going to sacrifice his life so that the world would have a live view of the comet’s crash, dropped his camera and ran as hard and as fast as he could.
    He also mentioned that was the day he quit smoking.
    He admits with some shame to having used his CNN credentials to board an airplane, which in this case, was bound to Atlanta. He recalled that he felt awful, but that he was so terrified of what he had seen, that he simply had to get out of Spain, while still under the assumption that this was something localized. It wasn’t until he got to Atlanta that he realized what the world was coming to. Along with a few other camera and reporting crews, Tague left the CNN buildings in an attempt to break through the