Zombie Salvation
Well. As you all know by now, the Captain’s plan worked and he turned back the tide of zombie infection, even reverting the still-intact zombies to living human form. Incredible. It defies science, even.
How did it all go down? I wish I could tell you. The last thing I remember is fiddling with the lock on the side personnel entrance to the hospital, trying to seal it behind us, and not getting it to work in time before a zombie bit me in the face.
The Captain ended up the hero, and I ended up the hazard after all. Son of a bitch, he was right. I got myself zombified and nearly foiled the whole operation. So I was a zombie while the Captain was saving the world. At least I participated. When I came to, it was almost two days later and I was in a hospital bed, and the excitement was all over.
What drives me crazy is that I’ll never know how the zombie apocalypse was prevented, because I was a freakin’ zombie during the most important events. How the Captain saved the day, I’ll never really know. The Captain refuses to talk about it to anyone, especially the media. I guess it must have been a truly harrowing experience. I caught up with him as he was getting into his car to head back home, pleading with him to tell me what happened, how he did it. He just grunted, scowled, and tossed me a bottle of Bactine. I looked it over as he started his car.
“What’s this? What is this supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Figure it out for yourself next time,” he grumbled. With that, the Captain drove away, leaving me to ponder this riddle.
For future reference, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you need a resident expert like the Captain, or you will die… sooner or later. I sincerely doubt this is the last we’ve seen of it, though. Come on, even if a zombie outbreak is local and contained, you know it could happen again at any time. Zombie outbreaks are never a one-shot deal. That sort of thing only happens in the movies. Let’s be realistic here. I’m going to go buy more ammo and canned food.
posted by the warrior bard at 7:05 PM
6 Comments:
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Wednesday, September 17, 2008 1:32:00 PM
I don't want to speak for anyone else, but I feel a little cheated.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008 8:15:00 PM
Tell me about it!!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008 10:43:00 PM
Well, the Bard makes it seem like a huge deal, but it was nothing. Really. Nothing at all.
In case the rest of you hadn't noticed, the majority of the world is fairly intact (as good as it can be, at any rate). Granted, the financial sector did reflect the "apocalypse", but they overreact to everything... hurricanes, war, zombie apocalypse.
So, how did society return to normalcy, as if the “zombie holocaust” never occurred?
In the end, it turns out that a small wedge of the St. Louis metro area was afflicted, and my house. That’s it. The Hawaiian islands and my parents house were flukes. Apparently they were my bad... the term Typhoid Mary doesn’t exist for nothing.
From the Bard’s point-of-view, I saved the world while he fell to the infection. In reality, I was hunting for a solid place to hole up (a morgue is a fantastic place, once I realized the dead weren’t rising from their graves). The Bard just took a Safeway shopping cart to the helmet. It was wielded by a homeless man named Hudson Fremont, Esquire. I know that was his name because he shouted “Hudson Fremont, Esquire ain’t goin’ out like a punk!” as he rammed the cart into the Bard. But, Hudson now resides in Locker 126 ‘cause the Captain has somewhat of a hair trigger, as does his shotgun. And knife. And Aquanet blowtorch.
The secret of my “master plan” was a realization that the virus fared pretty poorly in the human body. In fact, it comes off about like a bout of the stomach flu... 24-48 hours and puke your guts out (sometimes literally, ick) and you’re through. Most modern disinfectants (i.g. Bactine) can kill the virus on contact. Lysol, alcohol, warm soapy water... apocalypse averted. Most folks just wandered around until their fever broke. Sure a few gnawed on the living. An stop signs, chairs legs and their own shoulders. As would be expected, a few perished from gunshot wounds after recovery, but most, survived (relatively) intact. Check around, you'll notice your neighborhood is still occupied, it’s denizens no worse for wear than an New Zealand rugby team.
In the end, you give me far too much credit. I appreciate the ego stroke, since the positive vibes help balance my low-level despair in that I have yet to come up with a really solid excuse for burning my house down. My insurance company is going to be pissed.
Oh, and those exterminators, too. And their families.
At least those goddamn rats are fucking dead.
Thursday, September 18, 2008 11:43:00 AM
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Thursday, September 18, 2008 1:59:00 PM
And I can understand how you would think that the Ameristar Casino was the source of the infection. Have you ever visited there at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon?
Sad. Just sad.
Thursday, September 18, 2008 2:00:00 PM
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