Diary of the Displaced Read Online Free PDF

that was sizable enough to cover a double bed. It’s quite smelly, and could definitely do with a wash, but will be a lot better than the curtain that I no longer have.  Damn. I lost a lot of stuff back at the camp.
    Plastic bottles. There are dozens of them, all stuffed into a massive cloth sack. If only I could find some water. Unfortunately, all of them were empty.
    Hanging on small metal hooks on two of the walls was a pair of lamps. They were both empty of fuel, but if I could siphon some from the car wreck, I might be able to get them going. There was also a hook that was empty.
    Covering most of the walls and windows on the top floor are posters from various time periods. Some of them are of bands from the eighties, and others that I’m certain go way back, possibly even to pre Second World War, maybe even further.
    I’m saving the best find until the end (as they say). On the bottom floor, right at the back, amongst all the litter (The bottom floor must have been the last occupant’s rubbish bin) was a small metal box with a broken handle. Inside it was a rusty set of tools that were mostly knackered, but there is a screwdriver, a hammer, and a rusty but usable adjustable spanner. All fantastic finds. I’m getting all happy about a damn toolset.
    Lingering in the back of my mind, there is an unsettling feeling that someone lived here for quite a long time, and then went off one day, never to come back. Maybe they were trapped here like me and found somewhere better, not bothering to come back? I’m not convinced of that.  I think I would have come back even if it was to collect a few things. Which reminds me, I still have to go back to the old camp and salvage whatever I can, hopefully avoiding any zombies on the way. I also need to find somewhere other than this bus to stay. There seem to be zombies wandering by every few hours. I’m lucky, they either don’t seem to notice me, or they aren’t interested, but that doesn't mean it will stay that way.
    I’m convinced that the zombies are heading somewhere. They are always walking in the same direction, and I’ve never seen any of them twice. Trust me, I would know. They are all grotesquely different.
    The strangest one I have seen so far came past yesterday, whilst I was having a smoke and peering out of the window, hoping to see DogThing. It wandered by about thirty feet away, right on the edge of the light. I’m damn sure the creature had been put together, because there were two heads sticking out at the top, and another jutting out of its waist. It had far too many arms and legs, almost like three different people had been wrapped together deliberately. The top two heads were staring at each other, like they were in shock from being attached to one another (wouldn’t you be?) whilst the third, the one sticking out of its waist, was looking around. I’m not sure whether the two heads that were facing each other were even alive, or animate, or whatever they are.
    There are only three cans of fizzy drink left. I’m surprised they have lasted this long. Either way, I’m going to run out. This is a good thing, and a bad thing, if I drink much more of the stuff I’m going to end up with serious stomach problems. Not that I don’t already have them. Fizzy pop is not good as a staple diet, but I’ve got nothing else.
    From the empty bottles, I’ve come to two possible conclusions. Either there is water nearby, or it is so far away that whoever owned these bottles needed a lot of storage to be able to live here.
    I’m going back to the old camp tomorrow, in an attempt to recover the last few bits of my possessions. I remember seeing a hose pipe somewhere in the junk, not too far from the camp, whilst I was hurrying on my way to the bus, so will attempt to find it.
    I ventured out briefly to see if I could find anything else to drink, but I didn’t go too far. I did find something intriguing though. Hidden away, behind a massive pile of empty tin cans,