Managed to get to my friend Eric's house where he was holding back a ravenous horde of zed-creatures with a machete in one hand and his daughter Nora in the other, covering him a rifle. I joined in, singing a lusty Viking song as I blew off the heads of a busload of Japanese tourists. After purifying the pile of bodies with fire, we went back into the house and barricaded the basement.

One-year-old Nora helped reload the guns as we decided what to do next. Luckily Eric's wife Gina was deep within a bunker down in Hyde Park with the other scientists, trying to find a cure.

We had to figure out what to do next.

"What do we do next, Dan?" asked Eric, opening a can of beans and gobbling down cold spoonful after cold spoonful. "Want some beans? Hey, the chaps... That's new."

"No thanks... Beans? At a time like this!?! Madness! This is madness! Ahhhh! We're gonna die! We're all gonna die!!! Beans! BEANS!! Aggghhh!!!" I screamed, whereupon the pre-vocabulary Nora slapped me hard across the face and said, "Cowboy up, you yellow bastard, or I'll shoot you on general principle!" with her eyes.

We sat and thought deeply. Eric kept offering me beans, but I was only hungry for revenge... And pasta.

"Wait! We've got the Segway!" I suddenly said.

"Well, what are we waiting for!?!" Eric returned, and he pulled on the welding goggles he always wore around his neck and got to work.

We modified the Segway into a personal transportation system of death, with swinging titanium blades of death hooked up to a lawnmower motor of death, twin death flamethrowers of death on either side, and a really death boss death sticker of a flaming death's head, because it looked FUCKING AWESOME.

"This is fun. We should do more stuff like this together, Dan," said Eric, accidentally welding my hand to the spinning lance of death beneath the rotating disco ball of death and doom and death up front.

"Arrrgggh!" I screamed as my left hand of death fell off.

"No problem, Dan" said Eric. "I am so on that." He superglued a set of electric knives to my stump and connected them to a backpack generator he just so happened to have laying around. "How do you feel?"

"Derivative," I said. "Otherwise... GROOVY. Let's get Mike."

We mounted the Segway—Eric on my shoulders with twin machetes and Nora in her baby sling manning the bazooka—and smashed through the brick wall. I disemboweled a shambling nun with my smoothly gliding serrated fingers, then gouged out the brains of a reanimated George Pullman, still hungry for worker's blood even in death.

The neighborhood smelled sweetly of burning kielbasa, and even though I knew I was up to my ass in death, I had never felt more ALIVE. I sang again to prclaim my warrior's glee.

No more speed, I'm almost there
Gotta keep cool now, gotta take care
Last car to pass, here I go
And the line of cars drove down real slow

And the radio played that forgotten song
Brenda Lee's "Coming on Strong"
And the newsman sang his same song
One more radar lover's gone!

We tooled down Irving Park Ave., making loud dragster sounds to cover up the Segway's embarrassingly sissy-sounding electric whine.

"Vroom-vroom!" said Eric, tottering on my shoulders, slicing up former humans like a deranged Benihana chef. "Ha ha! Wheeeeee!"

It is a good day to be alive, and to fight zombies.

Fuck! Running low on Drano bombs. Realizing Brad Pitt was lying about making napalm from orange juice concentrate! YOU'VE KILLED ME, BRAD PITT!!!

Michael! Stow the cats and meet me at the rendezvous. Bring the B.A.R. It's behind the bin where we keep the extra sheets and blankets for company.

Forget the goddamn plants! Let GOD water them with his tears!!!

Heading up Milwaukee on the Segway. Need more ammo. Just used the last shot from the automatic dispensing with zombified Quimby's employees. No help there. Loompanics books on making explosives sold out! Managed to lock 20 zombies into Earwax and set the building afire. I think they were all zombies. Eh, what are you gonna do?

Hello! Are you there America?

dandycat confirmed my worst fears about last night's meteor storm. All radio stations dead. The Chicago Loop is emptied out. Abandoned cars are blocking the streets, so I was forced to commandeer a Segway from a dead cop who was just beginning to turn. Smacked out his brains with a piece of pipe I grabbed from the Block 37 construction site and took off. More bodies up and down Michigan, Wacker, and Chicago. None turned yet, so fear that a pack must be nearby, eating brains. Found an open cop car and grabbed the shotgun along with a few boxes of cartridges. The Segway is slow, but I was able to outrun a dripping skatepunk corpse. But how long will the battery hold out? Writing this in a Navy Pier coffee shop with WiFi as I gathered up supplies of precious salt packets from Billy Goat Tavern and other theme restaurants. Mike! I'm coming for you and the baby!!!!>???><>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>832749238304p293 )(*)()(*&(*&^*& *(

Momentary interruption, sorry, Needed to blast out brains of annoying undead NPR on-air personality.

Updates as they come. Has anyone else survived? Has the Sickness reached other parts of the country? Am I alone? Hello? Hello?

Dear God, let us pray.

Bruce Campbell sings Duran Duran



From semibold