I'm Bored 1/2

The world had officially fallen apart. I was completely alone, it had been…well I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I lost Stephanie, there were zombies everywhere and I was living off of canned food and Twinkies. In all this mess, there was only one thought running through my mind. I’M BORED! I don’t know what had gotten into me. Maybe it was being cooped up in this attic all day, or not having anyone to talk to, or being stuck with only horrible thoughts running through my mind and not having anything else to fill the gap, but damn it I was bored as all hell! At least Tom Hanks had a volleyball to talk to when he got stuck on that island, lucky bastard. I don’t know what got into me, but I told myself I was going do something to make myself smile even if it was the last thing I did. It wasn’t the last thing I ever did, but it sure as hell put a smile on my face. And that’s the part that scared me.

Earlier memories of when all this crap was still hitting the fan are all jumbled together. I only really remembered certain events. Traumatic things that in one way or another led me to where I am now, and for the most part, kept me alive. I remember one event specifically, because I couldn’t figure it out. I saw a man running out of his house covered in blood. Now I don’t know if he had been bitten himself, but I know for sure he was covered in blood, whoever’s blood it happened to be. Anyway, I remember him being out in the street and just standing there looking around. He was out in plain sight in the middle of the day with a good number of zombies around, and not a single one even paid him any mind. They either walked right by him or didn’t even think twice about touching him. The only conclusion I could come to was the blood on his clothes was making him smell dead. I know it sounds weird, but these things all have a distinct smell. They all smell, for lack of a better word, dead. I don’t know how to describe it but it’s just sort of a rotting, fleshy kind of dead smell. Whatever the hell you want to call it, these things smell. That man smelled like one of them and they left him alone. That gave me an idea.

Boredom often leads to stupid things, but let’s face it I’m not the smartest guy in town anyway. First I was already going to break one of my main rules and travel at night. You’d think my first encounter being chased at night would have taught me better, but at this point I didn’t care. Either zombies were going to kill me out there, or my mind was going to kill me up in that attic. Either way I was screwed, so I figured what the hell I’m going out at night. I unlocked the front door to my safe-house as quietly as I could and I made my way very cautiously away from it. I had my bat with me, of course, and my hunting knife. It was time to go to work.

I only made it about two blocks before I spotted exactly what I wanted; one zombie, just listlessly drifting through the streets. He was a pretty big guy too, or he used to be before he got half eaten. I could tell he was missing his left arm by the way his jacket was flapping down on his left side. Whoever took him down must have taken him by surprise, and I assure you tonight wasn’t going to be any different. I was crouched behind a car and I spotted a small rock by my foot and picked it up. I threw it straight at the left side of his head and plunked him nice and hard. He stumbled one tiny step and then began to turn to his left to see what the source of that rock throw was. Exactly the way I planned it. I snuck around behind him as he was turning and with one quick plunge I buried my hunting knife into the back of his neck, right on the spine. He dropped to his knees but I could tell he wasn’t finished. Without a seconds hesitation I jammed the knife right through the top of his head, and that seemed to do the trick. I really was glad he was so much bigger than me, because it made the next part so much easier. I took off his blood soaked jacket and his torn up pants and slid them on over my own clothes. The smell was unbearable and I definitely threw up right out in the street, but I’ve had enough drunken street vomiting nights to let this slide easily. Now that I had his ridiculously over-sized clothes on, I was ready to have some fun. Time to go hunting!

Who's On the Menu?

Every single bite I take makes me wonder if I'm crazy or if I've already become one of them.....

It was about a week after the breakout. All of the news reports ended. The television was filled with blank screens. Every radio station turned to high pitched scratch. I only had a very limited amount of DVDs. I had to let Smokey and the cats go free because I didn't feel fit to take care of them anymore. I couldn't even take care of myself. I hadn't been outside since the day my world turned to ash. I was bored. I was lonely. I was fucking hungry.

I had eaten everything in my house, from the canned tuna to the spoiled milk. A week was a long time and alot of meals, especially when you don't go outside to the supermarket. I just couldn't bring myself to leave. I didn't want to pass the headstones that I carved and the graves that I dug. They brought back too many memories of a former life.

After a few days of borderline starvation, I realized it was either eat or die. So before the thought of leaving the house, I gave every pantry one last check for scraps. Didn't find a goddamn thing in my house. I went downstairs into Joe's apartment and still found nothing in the cabinets. There was nothing left in the refrigerator. However, there was something in the freezer that I completely disregarded, up until now. The remains of Joe's body. At that point, it looked like a fine porterhouse steak, just waiting to be devoured. So, I did what had to be done. I took his thigh, let it thaw out for a few hours and prepared it for broiling. We Brazilians love the taste of meat with only a seasoning of salt. The natural flavor of the meat can be tasted at its full potential. I chopped the meat into small pieces then threw it in the oven. 10 minutes on each side and it was ready. Yeah, I know what you are thinking, "that was infected flesh." And you're right, it was. I figured that cooking the meat would either kill the infection or mutate it to something far less extreme.

After I let it cool down a bit, I noticed that it actually looked a bit like boneless beef ribs. And let me tell you, maybe it was because I was starving, but the first bite was like heaven. It tasted like someone took a prime rib and crossed it with filet mignon. I had never tasted anything so fucking delicious. It was like the first time I tried halal food from the halal guys on 56th street. I was in complete and utter awe. I had to have more. I went through Joe's entire body within days. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were Joe steak, Joe sandwich, and Sloppy Joes. It was only a matter of time until I would crave more. I had no choice but to go outside and get more. I wasn't going to eat the dead body in my yard because I figured it was all spoiled. I needed fresh or frozen meat. So I spent the next couple of days preparing myself for a hunt.

I needed to be undetectable. I decided to look and smell just like they did. I grabbed the Halloween costume that I wore last year that was a zombie doctor outfit. It was complete with white contacts that gave my eyes that cold, lifeless look. I quickly ran outside and cut myself a piece of mailman to rub all over my coat to mask my living scent. Next, I had to have a good weapon and good fighting skills. So I took my axe and sharpened it, razor thin. But it needed a name. I wasn't sure about a name until I started watching random fight scenes from my small collection of films. "Kill Bill" was my favorite in the bunch. She could kill numerous amounts of conscious men with ease. Her name in the film was Beatriz Kiddo. As would be the name of my weapon. She would become my most prized possession and my best friend.

After my preparation, I opened the back door and began my hunt. There weren't any zombies in sight. I needed a way to attract them to me so that I wouldn't have to stray too far from my house. I needed to make sure I could get back inside in case my plan failed. So, I decided to slam into a few parked cars. Their alarms were certainly loud enough to catch the attention of anything within a 4 block radius. I waited patiently for about 5 minutes until i finally saw the first sign of life. Or death? There were 3 of them walking around aimlessly. I creeped up as close as I could to test my disguise. They didn't seem to aim their attention toward me in the least. So I took full advantage and swung my axe with full force. The first blow was quick and fatal, leaving the first zombie completely lifeless. Then, I decided to have a little fun. I was going to make every single fucking zombie pay for my misery. And it started with the remaining 2. I took out one leg from each of them, using Beatriz's powerful sting. Then I proceeded to detach the rest of their limbs with my bare hands. I used the limbs to beat their skulls in until they were only recognizable as roadkill.
After my brutality was over, I threw the bodies over my shoulders and dragged them to the house. Two of them were thrown into a pile along with the mail man. And the other one was chopped into pieces and thrown into the freezer. Food for days!!!

And so it would was. The fear was gone. Every chance I got, I became a hunter and gatherer. I would hunt for a few victims and devour their carcases. I would use the time I spent, waiting for them, to gather a few luxuries and necessities. I made trips to blockbuster for new movies and television shows to watch. Gathered food supplies and grooming equipment. There was time to create a more secure barrier around my house, just in case. I was building the perfect fort. I was building the perfect me. You would think that there was no need to eat the dead, now that I wasn't afraid to travel to the supermarket. But, it wasn't that simple. I craved them. I couldn't go more than a few days without feeling the need to kill. I had to feed....

Choosing a Proper Hideout

Everyone has heard the saying “you can run but you can’t hide.” Yeah, well I say that’s bull! You can definitely hide. In fact, in this zombie infested wasteland I’d say hiding is your best bet. However, the reality is that the vast majority of us are not skilled builders or contractors who can go into a house board up every single window and door, and fortify the place into an impenetrable fortress to safeguard us from the infected. So for the vast majority of us, here are some tips on choosing a proper hide out.

Tip #1 Attics are better than basements

Now I know what you’re going to say; you’re going to tell me “but basements are underground and have no windows so nothing can see you.” This is very true. However, you can easily be trapped in a basement. If the infected do happen to break into the house you’re as good as dead sitting in a basement. They typically only have one entrance and exit and you will have no way out should you become surrounded. Attics are better because their entrances are usually hidden and difficult to see. Also we can assume that the zombies wouldn’t be coordinated enough to find the entrance to the attic or to find a way to climb up there. Also, some attics offer a window that allows you to look outside which is good for you to be able to survey your surroundings and keep track of the days and nights without having to leave your hiding spot. Should you find yourself surrounded and trapped in the attic, you can use the window as a means for escape. Overall, attics tend to be better hiding places than basements.

Tip #2 Beware of windows

Zombies have a nasty tendency of crashing through windows and breaking their way into places. I know this may seem inconsiderate, but they are trying to eat you so manners don’t really play a role here. Picking a hide out with as few windows as possible is useful because it allows you to move around inside without many places for you to be seen. Also, it’s less work for you to have to cover up fewer windows. It is especially important to pick a hideout with as few windows on the ground level. Since these are the most easily accessible windows it is important that there be as few of them as possible. Also many people like to hide out in grocery stores or supermarkets. While this may seem like a good idea due to all the food and water you have to remember that these stores often always have huge windows and large glass doors. They can be easily smashed through and you will be visible in almost every area of the store. Unless the zombies have never seen you going into the supermarket I wouldn’t suggest hiding there.

Tip #3 Buildings are useful

Seeing that I’m from New York I have access to a lot of buildings. These served useful for me in my adventures because they offer excellent places to hide. Multiple floors offer different ways around the inside of the building. Also most of the bigger buildings have multiple exits which should come in handy in a sticky situation. Of course you have to make sure that whatever area of the building you are going into is clear of any danger (i.e. NO ZOMBIES!) The one drawback is that buildings, particularly the larger ones in the city, have many places where the infected can be waiting for you and it may be difficult to clear out the entire building. Stick to focusing on one floor at a time. Be certain that whichever floor of the building you are on is clear of any flesheaters, try to make as little noise as possible at all times and remaining unseen is always essential.

For those of you who can fortify a two story home into an impenetrable fortress of zombie fighting power, congratulations you’re amazing. For the rest of us normal people, these tips should come in handy when looking for a place to escape from zombies or just to spend a night or two.

Why I love my SUV

Cray and I sped through the streets of our neighborhood like never before. It was already midday Monday. The sun was bright and the air chilled. The buzz of life normally associated with this hour seemed to be low, but I chalked it up to it being New Year’s Eve, eve. Many houses we passed by seemed vacant, or had their owners in their driveways loading vehicles. Again, I just correlated what I was witnessing to holiday travel. The silence in the car started to bug Cray, so she turned on the radio. I have come to hate the radio - always the same playlist and way too many commercials. The radio jockey came on for a brief news update, and of course Cray took this opportunity to start talking. “So, that was really weird! When I spoke with Edie she said that those”, she swallowed hard, “people we just encountered may have to do with the recent rabies outbreak in the city”. In the past two weeks, the news was littered with random “rabies” attacks. At first, the reports were only animals getting savagely attacked; and then slowly reports started to come in that people were attacking people, biting people, to be more specific, at an alarming rate. “Cray, last time I checked, rabies didn’t do what we just saw. For God’s sake, her head was backwards!" Cray sat further down in the passenger’s seat, “Yea, true… hope Edie has some good news…” The rest of the ride was pretty silent. Heading toward Columbia University Medical Center seemed normal enough, but as we parked and approached the entrance, madness seemed to be draped around the building. Ambulances were racing in and out, people seemed to be flooding out from the ER and pouring into other departments. Cray and I tried to keep composed and bee-lined to find our friend Edie, who worked in the Neuro center.
“Guys! Over here!” Edie waved us over to where she was standing amid the typical office chaos. “Hi!” she squealed. Edie had been working a double shift and it showed. Tired eyes, but wired with whatever she was hopped up on this time around. That seemed to be Edie all the time though - constant energy. “Hey!” I responded warmly. We hugged briefly, and as I pulled away, she gasped and yanked me into a free room, leaving Cray nervously shifting against the wall as she tried to avoid all personal contact with those filling the hallways. Edie locked the door. “Why do you have a blood speck on your chin?” She said this while getting closer to my face, inspecting every inch. “Well, I thought Cray brought you up to speed…” I felt a finger on my mouth and she unzipped my coat. "Take off that shirt, now. I will need to run labs ASAP. This is, I am assuming, the dead guy's blood?” “Ugh, yeah, with mix parts of Charlie, I guess?” She was engrossed with the stains on my shirt. “Well, hand over the shirt.”
Two hours later, I was in the same room in fresh clothing that Cray had packed. Edie had left us in here as she went off to test the shirt, as well as residue from under my fingernails. I shuddered to think of what the test would yield. As my thoughts started turning over what her findings might be, she burst through the door. "We've got to go!" As soon as she had popped in, she popped out… Cray and I just looked at each other, grabbed our belongings, and quickly caught up to Edie. She was walking with a purpose, and given the situation, that really scared the crap out of me. We followed her into an empty OR - well almost empty; there was a cadaver on the table with a sheet over it; just the feet and toe-tag visible. Not what I wanted to see after what I had just been through. She caught my eye and gave a nervous smile. "It’s OK; dead, see.” She tapped it’s forehead to backup her words. With no response from the dead body, she laid a folder on its abdomen, as if it were the cold steel table. “Alright, so I got some of the test results back.” She took some film and placed them on the film illuminator. We quietly gathered around as she started pointing out anomalies. “These scans are actually of this specimen...guy right here”. She pointed to the body, and then back to the screen. “The tissue I was able to salvage from your shirt was definitely dead tissue, and very closely resembled the tissue samples I took from him" - again, she pointed back to the body behind us - “before he was 'dead'" - she made the bunny ears with her fingers. This made me even more uneasy, being in the room with this guy. She continued on, as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary. “ The blood results, well… I’m still waiting on some..." Her sentence was cut short, as the electricity went out. In the seconds that the lights went out, so did the hope that what we were encountering was going to be easily explained. We heard the folder hit the floor, yet none of us had moved since the lights went out. Before I even heard the hum of the backup generator, I bolted for the door. All I could hear were our footfalls as we ran out of the OR. Well, I thought it was all of our feet... fucking Edie.