Saturday, January 22, 2011

The Girl in the Yellow Dress

In life there are always lessons to be learned. Some of these lessons are easy to come by and others are a bit more difficult to handle. Some shape us in influential ways while others are forgotten as quickly as a passing wind. In this hell brought existence that we all now face there are constant lessons to deal with. Each lesson serves to teach us something. How we choose to utilize what we’ve learned is up to each individual person. Make no mistake about it however, there are no easy lessons left for us. That is a luxury long since past.

Her name was Stephanie. I encountered her by chance one night as I snuck into a Pathmark. There was a back entrance to the parking lot of a Pathmark not too far from where I was currently hiding out. I managed to sneak through the parking lot and through some careful maneuvering of a few dumpsters I found my way onto the roof through a ladder in the back. I barely made it ten steps on the roof before I heard the shotgun cock behind me. I thought I was a goner for sure. At the very least this guy was going to strip me of all my tools and weapons and toss me back out there with these damn things and this whole trip would have been a waste. As the gun pressed up against my back I heard a voice say “Are you bitten?” It wasn’t a man’s voice at all. It was soft, light and yet every bit as deadly serious as the shotgun. “No, no I’m not bitten. Look I don’t want any trouble I was just looking for food. I didn’t know anyone was up here. I can leave, just let me walk away.” She grabbed my arm and turned me slowly around toward her. I’ll never forget the first glimpse of her. She was about 5’3 flowing chestnut brown hair, eyes to match and perfectly tanned skin; not too dark, not too bright orange, just a perfect golden shine to her. She had this simple yet somehow perfect yellow dress on complimenting the curves of her body so perfectly it was hard to imagine anyone else ever being able to wear the same dress. “How did you get up here?,” she asked me. “It wasn’t all that hard I just had to move some dumpsters around. If I were you I’d think twice about staying up here for too long.” I could tell she didn’t appreciate some stranger critiquing her choice of camp but the look on her face told me she knew I was right. “Well I’ve been up here for almost a month,” she said to me, “and you’re the first person to make it up here.” I found this to be quite a nice compliment. I guess not everyone could navigate through the zombie infested streets the way I could.

“Look I didn’t mean to come up here and take anything from you. I didn’t even know anyone was camping out up here, although I am upset I didn’t think to hide a bit closer to a supermarket myself. I just wanted to go in and grab some food for myself if there was any left. Do you think you can let me do that?” She looked at me for a second and said “Well it depends, what’s in it for me?” Now in all honesty I had nothing to give this girl at all. She had me beat on weapons, food and apparently ingenuity as well since it took me less than ten steps before she had her shotgun close enough to remove my kidney. However, my hide out was something I had and I know it served a lot better in terms of protection than some roof that anyone could climb up onto. I was in a secure attic with no way of being seen from the outside. “I can let you hide out with me, away from this open roof. I’m alone in my space and it’s getting cold out here. We would have plenty of room for the two of us and I know this cold weather can’t be helping you sitting out on this roof. Besides I know how to get to and from this supermarket without being seen. We could constantly restock our supplies.” It was a hopeless effort trying to coax this girl off her safety zone which had kept her alive this long, but I had to try something. “OK” she shrugged at me and simply started to gather whatever she had sprawled out on the roof. That’s it? That’s all it took? There was something about this girl that intrigued me. Something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I knew I wanted to know more.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Am I Too Late?

Some time has passed since I made my last grocery store run for supplies and food to take home. Since then I have not encountered a single living being in the area. The worry of seeing my family again always lingers on my mind and it seems to be taking its toll on Pippo as well. It's been four weeks since I have seen or heard from any of them and I am beginning to accept the concept of them not coming home anytime soon.
I haven't encountered any living people in the streets or seen any from my rooftop, but I have to hope that someone is out there because talking to my dog is starting to take its toll on my mental aspect in this current society. My car has been parked in the driveway for a while now and the idea of taking it for a distant drive is a potential thought. Finding people that would be company during these troubling times is of great value to me now.

Upon heading downstairs from the rooftop where I decide to spend my days because it allows me to get some color and fresh air, I hear a loud bang that sounds like it is coming from across the street. I head right back up the ladder to the rooftop and glance over where I notice a man dressed in a military outfit and he seems to be alive and out of breath. I look closer and it is my neighbor and although I don't really know him well enough I am relieved to know there is somebody alive out there. I can't figure out what is happening though so I whistle to him to draw his attention to the rooftop and he notices and waves back at me. I ask him what he is running from and tell him to come in, but he is reluctant. I hear him yell, "Get the fuck inside and lock up. There is way too many to hold back or evade". He says this while running back towards his house and at this moment I can't help, but wonder what he is referring to. I leaned over the rooftop and glanced down the street and saw what could have been at least a dozen or so zombies of different sorts moving in our direction each at different paces.

It's at this point that I noticed my neighbor running out his front door, illogically, with his rifle of sorts and starts firing down the street. He hits one, two, three, but now needs to reload. I wish I could lend him a hand, but all I have is a 9mm and a hockey stick and Lord knows my 9mm is more effective at close range and I'm in no position to waste bullets. The zombies are making their way closer to him and all I could do is throw some bricks that were loose on the roof to buy him time. I tossed a few rapidly and hit one zombie, but with no real damage as it got up and made its way closer to my neighbor...I wish I knew his name. A few zombies took notice of me on the rooftop and I am now worried that unless I take care of them they will draw way too much attention to my location. I yell towards my neighbor, "Hey, buy some time get inside I am coming down!". Don't be a hero is a big rule in the rule book during these moments, but I wasn't being a hero as much as I was trying to defend my safe-house. I get downstairs and Pippo is hiding in my room, the poor guy, while I grab hold of my "old faithful" hockey stick and open the front door. I look down the street and notice this is the number we'd be dealing with, nine.

They were moving slowly towards us. It was at this moment my neighbor reopened his front door and stepped back out. We were now firing in the same direction, but from two different angles as he lived across the street. I fired once and missed (what can I say I don't fire a gun everyday). My second shot clipped one in the leg and it dropped, but remained persistent to get its meal and I wasn't in the mood to satisfy its needs. He hit another three zombies with his rifle while I hit two more. It is at this point that I felt we had the situation under control with four zombies moving our way and I'm convinced I tip-toe faster backwards.
I made a severe rookie mistake, but I am learning as I go. I never thought to look in the reverse direction of the street. We finished clearing off the four standing zombies and I had my fun with my hockey stick as I approached the crawling zombie that I previously knee-capped. I stood right in front of it and gave it an old Al Iafrate slap-shot to the head taking it clean off. As this occurred I heard a scream and turned around to see my neighbor getting bit in the shoulder by a creepy old zombie woman. She bit right through his shirt and took a chunk of his arm out. I shot at this old zombie and missed, but she wouldn't relent on my neighbor. I don't even know this man's name is all I could think as I saw him fading out. I got close enough to put one right in the old bitch's head and then slapped it off with "old faithful". I finally could have had someone to chat with and instead I let my guard down and now he is fading into darkness. I apologized so much and he managed to grab me and tell me to keep on living because there will be a return for us all. The words that struck me the most were, "Hey guy, do us all justice and live." I then asked him what his name was and he replied, "Darnell. Now please shoot me so I don't come back". So I did as he asked.

I was too late.

Monday, January 17, 2011

So Young, So Beautiful.... 1/4

Troy Baltthius , age 32, financial advisor, divorce', homeowner with only 25 years left on my mortgage, owner and manager of a fantasy football team, father of 1, survivor.......

This isn't your typical undead survivor story, I'm no hero, not even a survivalist, I can honestly say that I lack the survival skills of your modern day girl scout, too nervous and shy to simply ring a strangers doorbell. But, there's something that keeps me alive, keeps me fighting, and that's knowing that my little girl is alive and waiting for me. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get to her and keep her safe. However, after my wife decided to leave me and take custody of Elora (that's my daughters name), I was forced to move from our quiet town in New Jersey to an overpopulated area in the Bronx, I know this is gonna be a hell of a task.

I'll never forget my first encounter with the "undead." It was only an hour or so after the first televised warning that something was spreading, and spreading fast. They were not quite sure who was the first infected, or how they were infected, but one thing was for sure, we were to get as far away as possible from the infected because they became incredibly hostile and a bite could easily infect us, and these things were hungry.
I was on the phone with my daughter telling her to stay calm and that Daddy was coming for her. You see, she was all alone because her mother was rushed to the nearest hospital with her new boyfriend after she claimed that she was bitten by the crazy old man two houses down. And the babysitter quickly fled the scene, knowing about this epidemic, I mean would you stay for 5 bucks an hour and risk your life for someone else's kid?
Anyway, I had just finished telling Elora to quickly run out to the shed that I paid to have built a few years back, that doubles as a bomb shelter (anything to protect my baby girl), when a neighbor's car ran right through my living room, ripping the phone wire right out of the wall and forcing me to drop to the floor in fear.
When I came back to my feet, I quickly ran to the driver side of the car to see if she was OK, no pulse. There was nothing I could do for her so I went in search of my cell, which was lying on the couch that her car so conveniently happened to be resting on.

Couldn't find the goddamn cell under all the chunks of my living room wall when I noticed that something was missing, the woman in the driver seat. Uh no, I didn't go looking for her, I'm not an idiot, I've seen way too many horror movies where the curious ones get butchered, no thank you. Instead, I ran for the nearest exit, which was not the obvious gaping hole in the side of my house, the front door seemed more civilized. "Oh, there she is" I said to myself, while she stood there between me and my exit. She didn't look much different from her former, living self, she was in the earliest stage of the infection. Her motor skills appeared to be off and her head rested on her shoulder because of the broken neck she received from her recent accident. She didn't look too happy to see me, trust me, I wasn't too happy to see her either. She had this incredibly lifeless look in her eyes like the motor was running but nobody was behind the wheel.
With her hands reaching out for me, she lunged in my direction for a taste, that hole in my living room was looking pretty good right about now. I reached for the nearest melee that I could grab, which happened to be a desk lamp in my main hallway, and swung for the fences. The lamp connected with her head and knocked her straight to the floor. I ran right to my Nissan Altima through the newly created exit in my living room, got into the car and drove as far as I could without getting caught in a traffic jam of others trying to escape. I got about 2 blocks....

That was about 6 days ago, and since then, I've been forced to travel on foot, slowly making my Way to the G.W Bridge, just another step closer to my little girl, I hope she's safe, I hope she can be strong..

I LoOoOOoOOve My Neighbors :P

It is raining today, and these days STILL suck, even during this zombie shit. Hence I’m cooling out, looking out my window. Miss Awesome should take a crack at looking for me today, shit I’m the mothafukn chosen one anyways. Chase me for once J.

When this zombie epidemic hit, I did not leave my neighborhood. Grew up here so I figured I had my best chance to survive here. Plus no GPS? FuUuUuck THAT! I’d get lost after going three blocks away from my house. And there was a lot of pretty girls in my neighborhood when things were normal, so I figured that I’d start the salvation plan here J. Apparently the zombies had the same idea since everyone stayed-all of the neighbors I never spoke to, drug dealers, girls I liked, girls I would have given it to but would never get into a relationship with, girls I would have given it to if no one ever ever EVER found out (fuck you don’t judge me J), girls I had no chance with for whatever reason (every reason being their fault, they should have had better taste J) . Bet they would have killed themselves, if they weren’t already dead, if they knew Daddy was the future prophet and savior of the world. Ladies, you Fucked Up J.) I have had the fortune of not bumping into any family members, my little brothers and mom are gangsters just like me. They must have escaped to DR or something…. I know they did.

Ahem, something that hasn’t changed in me is how super mature I am though-I still hold grudges, fuck that :P. Lets point out some of my zombie neighbors:

Zombie Walking by # 1- Police Officer: Same one that gave me so many tickets, glad they ate your hands.

Zombie Walking by # 2- Drug Dealing Blood Gang Member Named 7:50 (note, I have no idea why in the fuck he got that name, did he kill someone at 7:50? Born at 7:50? Was it a.m. or p.m. ? I have no idea): Chilling with the Rupal looking zombie, both of them standing with that HeEeY, finger snap snap stance. Always had suspicions about 7:50, he stared at guys to much. They were fooled into thinking it was a gangsta grill, little did they or I know that it was more of a jailbird, lets be soul mates gangsta look.

Zombie Walking by # 3- My Closest Female Friend, Not Girlfried, That’s Right Female Friend: I know what ya are thinking and you are totally right: “How can anyone resist you Jay MF Ruez?” To be quite frank I have no idea, some women are just blasphemous and crazy I guess. I’m glad that bitch got eaten too (Immature for a reason, keep reading J). First off she was so awesomely epic, Miss Awesome would hate on her, BEAUTIFUL chick. Dare I say that she could have kept the chosen one, and I would not have even spread these genes, fuck the world let it rot, because I would have had my princess and it would have been all that mattered and I would have killed every zombie in the world for this chick. I tell you. Why weren't we together you might ask? The Friend Zone…. Who invented that Mothefucka? Who was the asshole that has forever doomed us men to be locked into this escape proof, non-sex getting prison that keeps us away from women that we tend to be madly in love with but see us as a “brother”, as if we volunteered for that shit (we got drafted into that mothafukn position). HOPE I BUMP IN TO THAT ZOMBIE, because on behalf of all the men in history I would fuck his shit up. Immature I know, I know. But fuck you don’t judge me.

Zombie Walking by # 4- Neighborhood Ugly Chick: It’s crazy how she preserved her appearance better than any other zombie chicks in the neighborhood, ironic how in this world she’s the pretty one. She got that Ronald McDonald smile thing going, laughing at the other zombie chicks “Ooo you ain’t got a leg girl? It’s alright, go to the gym and you’ll look prettier, log onto or something, maybe they can find you someone” You go girl, be conceited (she was not on my world salvation list so becoming a zombie might have been the best thing to happen to her).

Zombie Walking by # 5- My Neighbor’s Bad Ass Son: Fuck what mature people say, there are some kids in this world that are just bad. And this little fuck was the KING of the little bad demons of the world. Fuck around and he was the one that started this whole zombie shit, bad ass kid. Wish I could throw a rock at him but I don’t feel like running after being noticed. AND it’s raining so I don’t feel like fucking up my Gucci slippers (fuck you don’t judge me, they are comfortable.)

And last but not least Zombie Walking by # 6- A So Called Friend of Mine: Glad they ate the shit out of him. Why the animosity you ask? Because during life although he did not have the zombie disease, he had the bitch ass hater fake friend disease. He had the “Yea I know I don’t have a chance with this girl but let me cock block you so that you can’t bag either even though she is clearly feeling you and not me” disease. He had the “yea I’m not going to text my friend that could super hook you up with that girl you were feeling from the party” disease. He had that “let me go up to the girl you just hooked up with and outwardly ask her if she really hooked up with you and purposely make shit awkward for us” disease. He had the telling the girl behind my back "Nah girl, don’t mess with him, he don’t wifem he one nights’em” disease. And just like the zombie disease, the hater one had no known cure either.

I can keep going on and on about my neighbors, but I guess I’ll save that for another rainy day. I LoOoOOoOOve My Neighbors J


Jay MF Ruez

Edited by Quin the Hunter

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Meet Sam

I'm not here to tell you an entertaining story and keep you thrilled at each turn. I'm here to tell you how I survived so you can do the same. New York had gone to hell and I hadn't seen or heard from a family member or a friend since. I'd been on the move tearing through the Bronx non-stop trying to stay alive. Most houses were empty so I usually had a place to crash for a night or two. Occasionally you bump into an occupied residence and have to convince people you weren't going to hurt them. Sometimes you had to leave the houses because if the zombies didn't kill you then the people in the house would. It might seem cruel thrusting a drifter out into a zombie infested city, but I can't blame anyone for doing what they needed to survive. After all, I was doing the same thing.

I bumped into Sam in a house just outside the Pelham Bay area of the Bronx. The house was a nice cozy two-story not too far from the park. I liked two story houses because they provided good places to hide. They offered you different ways to get in and out of the house if you knew how to utilize the second floor properly. Sam seemed like a pretty decent guy who wouldn’t try anything funny with me like stealing my weapons or anything. He was nice enough to let me stay in for a few nights. He figured the company was worth the risk and besides he saw how well prepared I was and figured I'd be more help than harm. He was in his mid 40's and in decent shape; aside from this hacking cough he had he didn't seem to have any issues. He had a good amount of food stock piled, more than enough for the two of us, and he didn't mind sharing. He had the house boarded up pretty tight as well. The only way I managed to get in was through the attic window. He said he had honestly forgotten about the window in the attic and I offered to take care of it for him. We weren’t too worried though, we figured the zombies weren’t really coordinated enough to think about climbing up onto a roof and checking for windows. All in all, it turned out to be a decent place to crash. I'd be a fool to turn it down. Then again, only a fool wouldn't think twice about that cough.

Three days straight and Sam was getting worse. He swore he hadn't been bitten or scratched and my gullible ass didn't think to check him. I told him to just go lie down and rest for a bit while I got some food together. I was preparing our lunch and I went into the pantry to grab some beans off the shelf. I heard a chair get knocked over in the kitchen behind me. I turn around and lucky me; I see Sam standing in the doorway of the pantry practically foaming at the mouth. Bastard was bitten and now here he's got me trapped in a damn pantry! I’m standing in this room little bigger than a closet with nothing but canned goods surrounding me and, oh yeah, a zombie blocking my only exit! Of course I didn’t think that my hunting knife or any of my other weapons were necessary to make lunch, so they were all stashed neatly away in my bag in the living room. Too bad I had this infected bastard standing between me and my stash of zombie killing toys. Well I'll be damned if after all this I'm going to get killed and eaten with a can of peas on my side. He lunges at me; man these things sure are fast. I pelt him in the face with the can of beans. It hits him square on the bridge of his nose and I can hear the bone crack. Too bad he's too dead to know how much that should have hurt, because he stumbled back one measly step and regained his composure. Thankfully that one step was all I needed. Sam was big but I was bigger; more importantly I was determined to live. I charged at him and tackled him straight through the kitchen table. In hindsight it wasn't the smartest idea to essentially embrace a zombie whose very bite or scratch could end my whole existence. The only problem with hindsight is you never have it when you need it. It's only around after you've done something stupid. The table shatters under our weight, and I see the back of his head slam down against the floor. I knew he was stunned and this was going to be my only opportunity. Before he could move, I grab a broken table leg and jam it through his skull. I turn my head at the last second to avoid getting any blood in my mouth or eyes. Sam was a goner, and I wasn't. In the end that was all that mattered. I stocked up on some food, rinsed myself off while I still had access to running water and I left that house and the experience behind me. Sorry Sam, guess you weren't hungry enough.