The Journal of Tom Barnett: Vampire Apocalypse Survivor by Daniel S. Atkinson

Author:Daniel S. Atkinson [Atkinson, Daniel S.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Vampire Apocalypse
Published: 2011-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

26th December 2011. 13.50pm.

Just had some lunch on the steps of Parliament. The whole city is dead. I did a loop of the CBD without stopping. I went down Flinders St and rode into Federation Square. This was a central hub of sorts for Melbourne, a place to meet. It looks like it was used as a place to die as well. I didn’t stop to count the number of bodies sprawled over the uneven cobblestones. Across the way the clocks above Flinders Street station were all stopped at 11.12am. I tried to think back to when the power gave out back home but couldn’t remember. I think I noted it down in this journal. Have to check back.

I paused on Princes Bridge and looked down at the Yarra River. The murky brown water was flowing on as if nothing had happened. At least with all the people gone it won’t be as polluted anymore. Then I saw some ominous shapes bobbing in the current. A different type of pollution infests the waterways now. I turned away sickened and rode back into the CBD up Elizabeth Street. A tram had come off its tracks near Collins Street. Looks like a bus had slammed into it at speed. What remained of the driver of the bus was slumped over the steering wheel. It looked like the crows had picked him over.

The tall buildings formed a canyon that let the bare minimum of light into the hazy street below. I turned right up Bourke Street and entered the Mall, the main shopping area of Melbourne. Rubbish was strewn about alongside the occasional cadaver. I startled a man who was sifting through a rubbish bin. It shocked me too to see him there. He looked like a homeless beggar, all filthy and haggard. He probably has all the necessary skills to survive in these conditions. Who knows, maybe he was a successful businessman on Collins Street bought to this bare existence by the vampire plague. He bared his yellowed teeth at me and brandished a broken bottle menacingly. I got the hint and kept riding up Bourke Street until I reached Parliament House. I tried the huge wooden doors at the main entrance. They swung open easily. I called out into the darkness inside but got no response. If there is a surviving local government it’s not here. I had a chuckle to myself as I realised the bloodsuckers now inhabiting Parliament are not that different to the ones they replaced.

Time to go home. I’ll swing by Bunnings and the bike shop on the way.

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