The week passes, the end of seven days in this hell hole being marked by the setting of the sun.

Given the vastness of the city and not being in any real hurry, I spiraled out from my starting location. Popping zombie heads a couple at a time like that one bunny, but without the good fairy coming in to bother me.  My purpose? Look for anyone else that may have survived, like those two girls. And, you know, survive.

Thinking about those two young girls, I recall they weren’t wearing clothing I was familiar with. Now, that’s not saying too terribly much as my wife had the fashion sense between the two of us. I will say I don’t remember seeing that line of clothing style when browsing for my gear a week ago.

“Beating a dead horse here, leave it be.” I mumble, staving off any possible madness that may be creeping up on me. The silence, while Golden, is starting to wear on me. Fraying my mind a bit. Thinking myself in circles about events that really don’t impact my current situation is asking for trouble I don’t need right now. And it’s only been a week.

I managed to find the food and water needed to get me by as I looked for any potential survivors. Some gadgets too, though they were more trinkets than gadgets. Nothing really useful was found in my search so far. I’ve been hoping to find something like a police or fire department, but no such luck as of yet. Unless I didn’t know what I was looking for, which is totally plausible.

In my search, I also find my fair share of zombies. At first, I left them alone and studied them. Sudden noises, noises that aren’t a part of this silence that permeates the dead city, has a remarkable means of ‘waking’ the zombies up. They stay in a dormant state, barely moving around, unless a sound brings them to attention and they start hunting. Unless the sound continues, they typically settle down again after a few minutes. I’m guessing that since there isn’t a guiding sound, they lose all interest.

I’ve also found I can stand right in front of one and it will not notice me. They are attracted to motion though, if they have eyes at all to use. Almost got bit finding that out.

They don’t hunt using smell, which is good since I’ve barely had the occasional wipe down with a wet cloth to keep my nose from falling off. Humans can stink worse alive than dead, after some time.

After my arrival, I didn’t bother keeping a kill count. Between my daggers, garrote wire, and the occasional use of my pistols, it’s been a massacre - for them. “This isn’t fair,” I mumble with a smile, “They should have brought more men.”

That’s not to say I didn’t have difficulty. While I can sneak around with the best of the best, the zombies acute sense of hearing is borderline supernatural. If my breathing and movement isn’t regulated to near silence, they hone in on me within seconds. Many, many, a fight has broken out due to me breathing a little harder than normal or just walking casually into a room.

I’ve taken my fair share of injuries from those battles as well. Whether it’s the game mechanics or something similar, I’ve noticed I don’t stay injured for long. Even a broken arm healed overnight, coincidentally after I managed to find a decent hole in the wall to sleep in for a time.

As I roved around, I finally took the time to examine the zombies levels. After getting a good look around and starting my survival search for food, water, and secure shelter - the starting level was mid-fifties for the zombies I took the time to closely monitor. As time passed, the average level kept increasing, with the highest being a pair of whooping ninety eights that I ran into last night. That one threw me for a loop, as I stumbled on them in an apartment complex, sequestered away from all the others by at least five floors. They huddled by each other in one of the living rooms, almost making me think they were married or close enough to leave a residual connection before they were zombified.

With being stuck in the middle of a massive city and surrounded by enemies, I hadn’t given much thought to the mechanics of the screens I saw when I arrived here. Levels associated with a person, name’s above people's heads, the number in relation to myself, The Screen appearing in front of my eyes and no one else being able to see it. It’s all so bizarre, almost like a video game.

I’ve only managed to search a few blocks away from tower I decided to make my temporary home. The buildings for each city block averaging ten to twelve stories each, with as many as twelve buildings per block. An extreme amount of square footage to cover while keeping lookout for zombies and taking it slow to prevent a horde attack. Can’t forget the clearing of each room to prevent myself from getting a nasty surprise later.

Most of the buildings had canned food and bottled water available, almost as if these zombies appeared recently. I haven’t managed to find any newspapers or magazines, or even a calendar on the wall to give me an idea of a reference point. Just like the missing vehicles, this is noted in my mind as a very strange occurance.

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“Well Marty,” I talk to the recently splattered zombie, “I think I’ve stockpiled enough material to last a bit. How’s abouts we go take a real look for things other than necessities?”

I mosey back to the tower and finish stockpiling the last bit I found, pack up a few days worth of food and water in my messenger bag, then head in what I think is a North direction. I tag the walls with spray paint I managed to find in order to keep track of my distance, like the massive broken finger that is my tower jabbing into the sky isn’t enough of a reference. Maybe it’ll lead people to me, if there are any left alive.

The last rays of light have long since departed. Night vision allows me to work very well at night, leaving me colorblind but able to see with little difficulty. That took some getting used to, but adaptability was always one of my strong suites.

I keep my path straight, following the road North (I think) and not taking the side streets yet. I’m basing the directions on my world’s sun rising from the east. This is a new world, so it could be completely different. I glance around the area and side streets to see if there are any signs or indication of the types of businesses I’m looking for. Electronics stores, banks, police and fire departments, jewelry stores. Yes, jewelry stores. The shiny will need to be liberated! Cough...

As the night progresses, I see nothing of interest. No signs, no red carpets, no shiny anything. Keeping in mind that most central metropolis businesses were more of the corporate type rather than consumer type, I break out into a full blown jog. Time to gain distance.

Whether I like it or not, the next two days pass this way. I make a certain distance from my tower, tag the area and then head back. I’ve hit the cardinal points with some side streets, but all I see is the remnants of buildings and loose materials. At least food and water are plentiful, on top of the uncountable undead I’ve slain.

Bored out of my gourd, I ransack dozens of places for household chemicals. While not a chemist, ops training does teach you to be unconventional. The explosives won’t pack the power of C-4, but the firecrackers I’m making will certainly attract notice and do at least some damage to the hordes.

Of the numerous odd things I’ve noticed, I manage to find a time piece of some type in each dwelling. I say that with some uncertainty due to the fact that I cannot make heads or tails of what’s written on them. They’re not in the normal numeric system I was taught growing up.

Using those timepieces as the detonation trigger, I litter several blocks with the home made explosives. I even manage to place a few in the wandering undead that try to reach out for me as I pass them, giggling like a schoolgirl as I place them in torn shirts or sagging britches.

Back in the safety of my tower, I sit on the ledge with a bottle of water in my hands and look out over the city. While not alcoholic, it’s the only drink I have available while I get ready to watch the show I’ve engineered.

I made sure each explosive group had a five second difference between each individual makeshift bomb, for a more rhythmic beat as they go. Spread between eight groups, this promises to be highly entertaining, the loud noises will bring the undead en masse to the fire crackers I’ve made. I’ve approximated where a majority will gather and set a dozen or so to go off in their midst.

Holding my water bottle up, I salute the city. “ To you, sprawling metropolis, who bored me to tears in these last days I remain living. To the undead, while dangerous and entertaining, you guys need a better script writer.” I take a swig and the fireworks start.

With the sun having set an hour ago, you can see the flare of light as the bombs go off and light the dead of night. After the first, you can hear the moans and screams of the more active undead shrilly calling out. After the third one went off, you could see the most active of them sprinting towards the ruckus I set off.

“Really wish I had popcorn. This is definitely a popcorn moment and I hate popcorn.” I keep watching as the finale approaches. I laugh when I watch one of the bomb carriers runs into the mix of a large crowd and sends them all flying when the bomb goes off. Limbs and viscera coating the walls and streets, zombies being rocketed around by the crude explosives I put together.

Screeching, moaning, the zombies are rushing about. The remaining explosives go off around and amidst hundreds gathered. A large flash and several reports herald the end of my musical ensemble.

Sighing, I get back up and start my way back down. “Always good manners to clean up the mess you’ve made.” Whistling as I work, I methodically remove the last zombies that survived.

“That had to be the most entertainment I’ve gotten since getting here. Fighting to the death is good and all, but there are only so many ways you can take the head off a zombie before it becomes droll.” I tell the surrounding horde, conversing with them as they are decimated, hunting knife in my left hand and one of the paired 9mm in my right hand.

“Even the parkour obstacle courses I set up through you guys lost their entertainment value, I either get the uber aggressive ones or the lazy shufflers. There doesn’t seem to be an in between with you delinquents.” I half yell at them as I finish the last batch. I may have gone around the bend a bit. “Any of you happen to be psychologists before turning? That would at least make me feel better with all the talking out loud I’m doing for some sort of conversation.”

The last reports of my guns echo up and down the streets. No more undead in my immediate vicinity. “Sigh. I’m so taking out whole buildings next time. That ought to get a good laugh out of me as well.” So stated, I get back to gathering and cooking.

The morning of the second week dawns with me back at my ledge. I feel I planted enough explosives to knock down an entire row of buildings for miles, dominoeing them into each other to help things along. “Maybe demolition was my calling in life? I’m damn sure it wasn’t zombie killing…” I finish muttering as the bombs go off.

Spectacular doesn’t fully describe it. I set the main charges in the building to the north of my tower which will continue in that direction. I’ve set more charges intermittently in the buildings heading north to see if that will be enough to knock them down as the falling buildings gain momentum.

The falling buildings did gain tremendous momentum, thus ‘spectacular’ not being able to fully describe this fantabulous wrecking of buildings in front me.

Building after building, the charges timed just well enough to weaken the foundations and lean it. Then the impact of the falling building preceding it. Quite awe inspiring. And the ruckus it kicked up! Crashing buildings generate lots of noise, excluding the bombs exploding. Zombies wail and screech as the buildings continue to domino away from me.

“Homemade explosives for the win!” Yelling exuberantly as more and more buildings fall. “I don’t think it was on my bucket list, but demolishing a city gets a check beside it now!”

I sigh contently, watching the dust fly up from all the falling buildings. The horizon is blotted somewhat, eventually spreading out and around the surroundings. I watch for half an hour or so, more and more dust clouds erupting into the air as the buildings continue to domino, when the most peculiar thing occurs.

The world glitched.