What the fuck am I doing here? Why did I even come to California? The weather? Nah, that's not it. The cold never bothered me anyway. Maybe, I just needed a change of pace. Then the people started to get sick, and then shit really got weird. I just, fuck I don't know. I have been held up in my hotel room and trying to stay low. I watched last night as some homeless guy chewed the face off a cleaning lady. She laid there, dead for a long time. I was going to head out to my car and put miles between me and this strange shit. Granted, I knew even then that nothing was going to change. It was going to be like this everywhere, even back home. I found the mini bar and for the first time in two years, I sat down with a bottle of, well.. Fuck it, who's going to read this? Everyone will be dead by the end of the month. I got shit faced on little bottles of booze. I laid on the bed waiting for the homeless guy, to come and get me. I heard the screams as they echoed down the hall. I waited for the door to break open and the world to come inside. Nothing happened. The halls were filled with terror, but nothing happened.

Eventually, I remember sobering up enough to go look out the window. What I seen next almost made me go back to drinking. The cleaning lady was up, and looking around. She was standing in the parking lot her face half gone, her blood had gone black with age, but she was standing and looking at the building. The streets where in chaos, but inside the hotel.. It was silent. I don't trust the quiet.

It's been a couple of days now, and I find myself going stir crazy in my room. The maid hasnt moved a foot since I sobered up. I can hear things in the hall. Shuffling nasty things. The screams from outside are getting quiet. Does that mean that there is no one left? Or, more likely they are hiding, being smart and laying low. My stomach is protesting the food that I have been saving, I don't think it's good anymore. I've drank everything from the mini bar, drunk is a great way to silently pass the time, but I am going to have to figure something out. I just don't know what. The Duster is out in the parking lot, with a lot of them.

Them, that is what I am going to call them from now on. I don't think I like the word for what they might be. It seems too, brash, too.. Just too much of everything.. The infected, are them. Nothing more, nothing less.. As I watch them pile out of the hotel in their shuffle, I can't even see where they were human once, but I know they were. They had hopes and dreams and needs... Now they just have, well their shit.. Lots of shit screams and gun fire, but those are now silent.

The days have gone on for too long, and now I... Well, fuck this.. I was a cop, and I was the meanest bitch on the streets... I still have the talents I used to have... I will survive this, because, fuck.. I'm too mean to kill.. Now, I have to get the fuck out of this room.

(( With this, Shade makes her way around the room making a table leg club, and heading for the roof..Yes, I am too lazy to make a full on new character.))