28 Items Later - Day 1

My name is Steven Gints. I've decided to keep a diary of my thoughts so that others who find this diary can get an idea of the hell I'm going through... or what to expect if it happens to them.

I work at a supermarket. Well... they call it work... I call it holding out. For the past couple of weeks, me and the other staff members have been fending off the custombies that flood the store every day the only way we know how: serving them. But there are times when we simply can't hold them back...

One of the scariest things I've heard these days is "EXPRESS ALERT". When I hear that, I know that the staff members who are guarding the store are about to be overrun by the custombies. We all rush out of our stronghold, the staffroom, and battle our way to the defense posts, or as they used to be called...registers.

With all hands on deck, we can usually make it through the storm of mindless shoppers. But when the storm dies down... And you see that a couple of defense posts are emptied, with only a pool of blood and a nametag left... You can't imagine how that feels.

We lose more people every week. Yesterday, Mike had his arm severed after the Express alert was called. He may never operate a register again. Now he sits in the staffroom, bandaged up, trying to comfort the staff members who have seen their friends torn to shreds in a flurry of eftpos cards and $50 notes. Its good to see that he's still doing something.

I must go - its my turn to keep watch. Hopefully I'll be back to write again.

- Steven Gints