28 Days Later: The Aftermath

28 DAYS LATER: THE AFTERMATH - A writer's survival journal. Day 5 - Final Day

(Fri 04/20/2007 07:42pm)

Friday, April 20th 2007

This is the last time you’ll hear from me.


I’ve been on the run for days. The roof thing didn’t work out too well as there seem to be military jets flying overhead and helicopters too. Bastards took potshots at me.

 
Seems like no matter which way I turn either humans or the Infected are after me. How the Hell am I supposed to finish this fucking graphic novel with the world coming to an end? I’d love to ask Lieb that, but I’m sure he’s locked away in a nice safe place with the rest of the producers and their flunkies.

 
After realizing that Lieb couldn’t spell anything I was dictating to him over the phone, I knew I had to get to a computer.

 
I located one in some abandoned office buildings near Beverley Hills. You should see Rodeo Drive. It doesn’t quite have that lifestyles of the rich and famous feel to it with the streets painted with blood and human organs.

 
Now I had to take all three stories and have them come together and once again it would take almost losing my life to give me the idea.

 
I was running from some helicopter gunfire when it dawned on me...who really is the enemy here? I didn’t think I was. It certainly wasn’t the Infected. They were a problem for certain, but they weren’t the bad guys. The poor fuckers couldn’t help what they were.

 
So once again the blame seemed land firmly in the laps of HUMANS. We truly were our own worse enemy and this experience proved it. A virus created by man ends the world, or comes damn near close to it. That’s just beautiful.

 
Night is falling once again and I’ve decided to stay in the office building. Outside the skyline is alight with smoke and fire. I can hear Infected below in the streets barking and expectorating looking for someone to beat to death, and every once in a while I hear a gunshot ring out or I hear a distant cry for help and I realize I am not alone.

 
There are, and will be, other survivors.

 
So that’s what I wrote the last chapter about; the people who fought their way through the first three chapters will all come together and lead us into the future.

 
But what kind of future will it be? I can’t say for sure but if we don’t all work together we will all perish from this planet.

 
I completed the last story for AFTERMATH a little after midnight on 4/20 and then I stood in the shattered office windows and watched Los Angeles burn.

 
That was when I spotted them coming.

 
Below, in the darkness, dressed in black. It was Lieb and his flunkies coming for me. The deadline was the day before. I guess they were serious.

 
Fine.

 
If Lieb wanted a fight he had a fight.

 
Luckily I saw them before they saw me and I managed to take out two pretty quick. One was a Tech named Andre something-or-other. I put a sniper shot right in his face. The second and third I gunned down as they attempted to enter the building.

 
And finally, with one last thugs throat slashed, it was down to me and Lieb.

 
I could hear him yelling below, his voice bellowing through the empty building. If he didn’t shut up or die soon every Infected from here to Santa Monica would be on us.

 
Luckily Lieb got careless. While I waited patently, squatting in the dark just above the first floor mezzanine, Lieb came stopping into the building like a storm trooper. He was weighed down with weaponry. He’d come to kill me. I was sure of it.

 
I leapt the railing and landed right on Herr Lieb’s shoulders sending him flailing to the floor.

 
Blamm! Blamm!

 
I put one in the back of each of his kneecaps to take the fight out of him, then kicked him over on his back and jammed the rifle in his face.

 
I didn’t trust him.

 
“Why are you here?” I barked.

 
Lieb winced in pain and stammered, “Just wanted...to show you...advanced proof of the book. I...it looks g…good.”

 
And then he reached for his sidearm. 

 
I put a bullet, clean, right through his forehead. His body went limp and a flat package fell out of his flak jacket.

 
It was an advanced copy of 28 Day Later: The Aftermath.

 
Lieb was right. It looked good, plus it had my check as a bookmark.


Then I saw the writing credit...story by Steve Biles.


Son-of-bitch!


The end!