We heard the rumors, spreading faster than the virus itself. A cure. Already, an inoculation, with promises of saving the others from their zombified state. How could we refuse? Matt and I left for Folwell, along with my old friends Justin and Andy. We arrived without incident to dozens of survivors. It was amazing, how many had shown up, donning the orange band and wielding their own blasters. The camaraderie was palpable, the cloistered becoming charismatic. One thing can be said for crisis: It brings people together.
Amidst all the celebration, it would have been easy to forget the horde growing outside our lines. The wall at Folwell served to repel them, but the beasts showed no mercy to those approaching. I'm glad to say that no one died in front of Folwell, at least not then. We saved them, and soon we'd save the horde too. We needed to just wait.
A man, with the air of one whose leadership is unchallenged, stepped onto the top of the wall to address us. A hush fell quickly as we anticipated survival, a return to the status quo.
"The rumors of a cure were false," he began, and muttering quickly enveloped the crowd as if a net had been cast. "You have all just been drafted into a resistance force! We will advance..." Here the crowd got rowdier, but no one left. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. Deep down, I think I would have enlisted myself, and I felt the same from most of the people here. This was just more convenient, and would clamp up a few wafflers.
"We will advance in groups of 15 or so across the Mall. This is a simple sweep, stay together and no one will die. Kill every zombie you find." He then hopped off the wall and called for volunteers for Alpha Squad. I walked forward and found that my friends advanced with me. I exchanged a silent nod with Andy, and we formed up ranks.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Sustinence
The day dragged on. I studied, tried to focus on Physics, but capacitance just wasn't staying with me today. My glazed stare was suddenly broken by a text from Matt. "in walter lobby, get over here!!" I eagerly closed my textbook and ran up the stairs. Matt stood there, out of breath, but still in possession of it. "What happened?" I asked, concerned. "zombies. What else? Five of them, they didn't see me. But..." Dread filled the lobby. "But?"
"The guy in front of me..." and he stopped speaking, guilt making a nest in his throat. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have done anything about it." He nodded sadly, and we left for the Residence Halls. The twitches were unbearable. Every person rounding a corner, every flash of orange met with a surge of adrenaline and a raised blaster. This time, it turned out to be for nought: We got to the Superblock without a single sighting. Here we regrouped, and I saw a few friends, old and new, waiting for us in Centennial's dining hall. We ate, joked, got more food, drank Coke, and had a good time. My hand brushed my blaster mid-laugh, and suddenly the joke had fled.
"The guy in front of me..." and he stopped speaking, guilt making a nest in his throat. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have done anything about it." He nodded sadly, and we left for the Residence Halls. The twitches were unbearable. Every person rounding a corner, every flash of orange met with a surge of adrenaline and a raised blaster. This time, it turned out to be for nought: We got to the Superblock without a single sighting. Here we regrouped, and I saw a few friends, old and new, waiting for us in Centennial's dining hall. We ate, joked, got more food, drank Coke, and had a good time. My hand brushed my blaster mid-laugh, and suddenly the joke had fled.
Reunion
We parted ways, and I headed to my advising appointment, without event. When I was there, I learned all about what classes I should take next, when to register, and who to direct my Computer Science questions towards. I learned nothing about how to survive a university outbreak.
I started back to Walter, thinking the quiet atmosphere would make me forget about the horrors awaiting outside. The sun beat down like any other warm autumn day. A few brown, curled leaves fell from the trees as a zephyr passed through. Paradisaical. Following a falling leaf, I caught sight of another orange cloth. I tensed, then realized it was about the man's arm. I hailed him, and he echoed in kind. "Seen any today?" I asked eagerly. "I've already fought off one," he said, "be careful!" I wished him likewise, and cautiously traveled to the library doors. A girl walked down the ramp as I walked up, and I caught the tangerine on her brow. I tensed, raised my blaster... but it was just a hairband. I exhaled. The paranoia was draining. I ascended to the door, and turned, opening it behind me. Grinner was walking by right in front of me. He looked over. My blood froze, and I ducked inside.
I stood there, inside the glass doors, as Grinner continued down the walk. The echoes in my head began. A thousand movies flashed by as if the projector had but a frame of each. A brief message was illuminated: "Rule #17: Don't be a hero." I repeated it to myself. "Don't, don't..."
My leg was kicking open the door before I even knew what was happening. The survivor from before heard the commotion, and he turned around at the ready. He saw Grinner stalking him, and bolted. Grinner didn't even try, knowing that the lead was too much. He instead focused on me, his glassy grin evilly illuminating his features. I stared back, as stonefaced as I could muster.
I backed into the building.
I started back to Walter, thinking the quiet atmosphere would make me forget about the horrors awaiting outside. The sun beat down like any other warm autumn day. A few brown, curled leaves fell from the trees as a zephyr passed through. Paradisaical. Following a falling leaf, I caught sight of another orange cloth. I tensed, then realized it was about the man's arm. I hailed him, and he echoed in kind. "Seen any today?" I asked eagerly. "I've already fought off one," he said, "be careful!" I wished him likewise, and cautiously traveled to the library doors. A girl walked down the ramp as I walked up, and I caught the tangerine on her brow. I tensed, raised my blaster... but it was just a hairband. I exhaled. The paranoia was draining. I ascended to the door, and turned, opening it behind me. Grinner was walking by right in front of me. He looked over. My blood froze, and I ducked inside.
I stood there, inside the glass doors, as Grinner continued down the walk. The echoes in my head began. A thousand movies flashed by as if the projector had but a frame of each. A brief message was illuminated: "Rule #17: Don't be a hero." I repeated it to myself. "Don't, don't..."
My leg was kicking open the door before I even knew what was happening. The survivor from before heard the commotion, and he turned around at the ready. He saw Grinner stalking him, and bolted. Grinner didn't even try, knowing that the lead was too much. He instead focused on me, his glassy grin evilly illuminating his features. I stared back, as stonefaced as I could muster.
I backed into the building.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Survivor
I left my Physics lecture at 1 PM, the day remaining... ordinary. I thought the Apocalypse had come. Maybe it has, but it shambles like the Living Dead in the movies. Just a bit more normalcy before it all caves in?
My best friend pounded his way up the Physics stair. "Well, if it isn't Patrick Severin!" he stated, running into the building with a few rocks clutched in his hand. The other only held a single stone, and was mostly bandaged. "Bad time to break your finger, Matt," I scolded jokingly, the sight of the injury chilling me more than I let on. It WAS a bad time. Matt would be an easy target, or at least seem like one. He's tough, and strong, but zombies might rally around an easy-appearing meal.
"Yeah, you haven't seen it yet! They taught me to wrap it like this," and he gestured with his other hand. How he could muster up excitement about this, I'll never know. I guess that's why he's my friend. "So, I brought you something," he stated, reaching in his pocket. "What is it?" I inquired, "a rocket launcher? A platoon of Marines? A helicopter?" Anything to help repel the waves. He pulled out an orange piece of fabric. It wasn't even a nice piece of fabric, it frayed on all sides.
"Th...anks?" I accepted, taking the band. "Oh, don't mention it. I have one too, see?" He gestured with his broken finger towards his other bicep, where his strap hung like a badly-treated flag. A little fading, and the zombies might take it as a surrender.
"That's great, Matt, but... why?" I struggled to understand. He treated this as a game. "The zombies," he started, "aren't always obvious. They look just like us, actually." I must have looked incredulous, because he went on quickly, "You wear this on your arm, and they... they don't." "Matt Knight," I began, "Pat Severin," he followed, and we repeated the others' name in tones of increasing confusion from me, and reassurance from him. "They 'don't', you say?" I got out, finally. He nodded. "Well... all right." I tied my fabric on my arm. "All right, now as a token of gratitude, you've got to take me to Chemistry!" He said convincingly. I opened the Physics door for him. He needn't ask. I couldn't let him go on his own.
"Constant vigilance!" I said, walking out of Walter with Matthew. We both jerked around, our movements obviously nervous. No zombies yet, or, at least, I hadn't seen any obvious ones. If Matt was right, there wouldn't be any signs, besides the armband. Matt snapped me out of my brief reprieve, saying "I see one!" I turned, Spectre ready. There was no lurching monstrosity. There was only another student, blue shirt, grinning widely from across the mall. And, curiously, a strip of cheap, orange fabric on his forehead. "Where?" I asked, but the answer sat in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, the zombies wore these bands around their heads. Maybe... maybe so they could tell who was already with them. A trip into zombie psychology would have to wait. We hustled to the Chemistry building, keeping one eye peeled on the Grinner. He didn't stop grinning. He just turned.
And looked.
And started walking towards us.
We got inside the Chemistry building quickly, both a little shaken. It wasn't even a close encounter, but now I knew the threat was real. That there were zombies out there. ...Shit. Oh, shit. I panicked introspectively and glanced at Matt. He looked back. That calmed us both a bit. Yeah, there were zombies out there. But, there were survivors in here.
My best friend pounded his way up the Physics stair. "Well, if it isn't Patrick Severin!" he stated, running into the building with a few rocks clutched in his hand. The other only held a single stone, and was mostly bandaged. "Bad time to break your finger, Matt," I scolded jokingly, the sight of the injury chilling me more than I let on. It WAS a bad time. Matt would be an easy target, or at least seem like one. He's tough, and strong, but zombies might rally around an easy-appearing meal.
"Yeah, you haven't seen it yet! They taught me to wrap it like this," and he gestured with his other hand. How he could muster up excitement about this, I'll never know. I guess that's why he's my friend. "So, I brought you something," he stated, reaching in his pocket. "What is it?" I inquired, "a rocket launcher? A platoon of Marines? A helicopter?" Anything to help repel the waves. He pulled out an orange piece of fabric. It wasn't even a nice piece of fabric, it frayed on all sides.
"Th...anks?" I accepted, taking the band. "Oh, don't mention it. I have one too, see?" He gestured with his broken finger towards his other bicep, where his strap hung like a badly-treated flag. A little fading, and the zombies might take it as a surrender.
"That's great, Matt, but... why?" I struggled to understand. He treated this as a game. "The zombies," he started, "aren't always obvious. They look just like us, actually." I must have looked incredulous, because he went on quickly, "You wear this on your arm, and they... they don't." "Matt Knight," I began, "Pat Severin," he followed, and we repeated the others' name in tones of increasing confusion from me, and reassurance from him. "They 'don't', you say?" I got out, finally. He nodded. "Well... all right." I tied my fabric on my arm. "All right, now as a token of gratitude, you've got to take me to Chemistry!" He said convincingly. I opened the Physics door for him. He needn't ask. I couldn't let him go on his own.
"Constant vigilance!" I said, walking out of Walter with Matthew. We both jerked around, our movements obviously nervous. No zombies yet, or, at least, I hadn't seen any obvious ones. If Matt was right, there wouldn't be any signs, besides the armband. Matt snapped me out of my brief reprieve, saying "I see one!" I turned, Spectre ready. There was no lurching monstrosity. There was only another student, blue shirt, grinning widely from across the mall. And, curiously, a strip of cheap, orange fabric on his forehead. "Where?" I asked, but the answer sat in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, the zombies wore these bands around their heads. Maybe... maybe so they could tell who was already with them. A trip into zombie psychology would have to wait. We hustled to the Chemistry building, keeping one eye peeled on the Grinner. He didn't stop grinning. He just turned.
And looked.
And started walking towards us.
We got inside the Chemistry building quickly, both a little shaken. It wasn't even a close encounter, but now I knew the threat was real. That there were zombies out there. ...Shit. Oh, shit. I panicked introspectively and glanced at Matt. He looked back. That calmed us both a bit. Yeah, there were zombies out there. But, there were survivors in here.
Rise
Usually, I wake up to escape the nightmares.
The alarm is ringing. 7:15 am, time to get ready for another day of class. You'd think that they'd cancel classes for a zombie outbreak, but I guess we get enough time off as it is. "Besides," I can picture the officials saying, "it's only a few students. They'll sleep it off." Then, they pack up their bags and take the month of vacation they've been scrounging up for 7 years. Sheer coincidence, of course.
It happened last night. Some large gathering of students outside of Northrop were congregated for one reason or another. I might have been there, if it weren't for Community Council. My friends invited me, but I was busy. Whatever reasoning was behind the grouping was dissolved with the first screams. The panic, the warnings, and the sprinting reverberated off the venerated walls of the mall buildings as countless students streamed away to wherever they deemed safest. a few fell, but only briefly.
-----------------------------
I got on a bus away from Bailey, headed to my morning Calculus class. Nerves spiked as I glanced at my fellow passengers. They seemed so... calm. "This place is so large," I reflected, "that news of an outbreak mightn't be heard for days." The only reason I had was from my friends at the epicenter. They all made it, thankfully. I saw the commuters reading, bobbing their heads to music, or catching that last, elusive Z. So many innocent, ignorant lives.
So many potential zombies.
I crossed campus quickly after the bus, clutching my chosen weapon: A Spectre AS-5, with an ammo clip I built myself. "Just in case," my zombie-obsessed friend said. We laughed about it. I promised him I'd journal my experience if I ever had to use it. Promise returned. I ducked inside Vincent Hall. No zombies yet. Was it all a joke?
The alarm is ringing. 7:15 am, time to get ready for another day of class. You'd think that they'd cancel classes for a zombie outbreak, but I guess we get enough time off as it is. "Besides," I can picture the officials saying, "it's only a few students. They'll sleep it off." Then, they pack up their bags and take the month of vacation they've been scrounging up for 7 years. Sheer coincidence, of course.
It happened last night. Some large gathering of students outside of Northrop were congregated for one reason or another. I might have been there, if it weren't for Community Council. My friends invited me, but I was busy. Whatever reasoning was behind the grouping was dissolved with the first screams. The panic, the warnings, and the sprinting reverberated off the venerated walls of the mall buildings as countless students streamed away to wherever they deemed safest. a few fell, but only briefly.
-----------------------------
I got on a bus away from Bailey, headed to my morning Calculus class. Nerves spiked as I glanced at my fellow passengers. They seemed so... calm. "This place is so large," I reflected, "that news of an outbreak mightn't be heard for days." The only reason I had was from my friends at the epicenter. They all made it, thankfully. I saw the commuters reading, bobbing their heads to music, or catching that last, elusive Z. So many innocent, ignorant lives.
So many potential zombies.
I crossed campus quickly after the bus, clutching my chosen weapon: A Spectre AS-5, with an ammo clip I built myself. "Just in case," my zombie-obsessed friend said. We laughed about it. I promised him I'd journal my experience if I ever had to use it. Promise returned. I ducked inside Vincent Hall. No zombies yet. Was it all a joke?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)