Tuesday, January 24, 2012

I HATE MONDAYS

Just got home. I'm delaying my shower so I can log today's events. It was a hairy one. I got a phone call from a local ZFC member, wanting me to meet him at their safe house to help move food and water to an area of town that is in need. Since the turn of the year, zombies got a lot worse. Not to mention the annoying eye of the ASMZ. They seem to be deliberately getting in the way of progress for all survivors. Every car or truck gets stopped and asked what goods are on board. Every store that we shop at, there they are with their guns eye balling everyone, and half of us get patted down. 'TERRORIST PRECAUTION' is what they're calling it. I call it martial law. But who am I.

I got dressed and realized how close it was till I was supposed to be leaving for work anyway. The plan was to make a run for the local ZFC and just head to work after our drop off. But Mondays never....ever.. go as planned.

I was on my bike. If I was in my car or jeep I probably wouldn't have heard the helicopter overhead, but I did. I acted as if I didn't though. I had about 3 miles to ride before I got to the safe house, so I had just enough time to scope out the bird between here and there. In case the helicopter was ASMZ or military, I acted as if it were a normal day for a normal citizen. At the stop signs, I would take the opportunity to pull my machete from my back holster and slice the head off an oncoming zombie. Some neighborhoods were worse, as I had to draw my pistol along with my machete. Either way, I made sure to look as common as the next guy. But I knew they were hovering for me.

I decided to park my bike at a nearby park. The parking lot there was open, but had plenty of trees. I hoped that they would act as cover, at least enough for me to get a better look at who it was exactly that was watching me. All the while, hearing the thip thip thip thip thip thip thip of the helicopters propellers.

My little plan worked. There was no way I could outrun the watchers, I just needed a chance to get a good look. It was a military helicopter. Specifically an AH1-COBRA. This one was painted white with the well defined red letters A.S.M.Z. right across both sides. They knew where the safe house was I was certain, but they were purposefully watching my every move....but why? I just walked casually.. and tried not to look up at death from above.

I saw the safe house just around 100 yards up the road. I had to pass through an old golf course. Abandon by the city, it made for the best dog park, with the hills and perfect grass. But today it was eerily quiet. Since I got off my motorcycle, I hadn't seen one zombie...

While I walked, ahead of me the helicopter slowly started to come down. My heart started rising to my throat because I was alone, and confused on what I did....or didn't do.?. The ASMZ and military have made me realize who is in control. Little by little I realized I had none. The helicopter disappeared behind one of the hills of the golf course. I continued to walk in my same direction hoping, that when I crossed the summit of the next hill, I would meet with them and just have a chat. Maybe they wanted to talk about the EPHOD or what I knew about the battle in College Station... I was hoping for anything good.

I walked. Along with my feet occasionally scuffing the concrete, I heard something else. An uneasy sound. It wasn't a moan like most zombies make. It was more like a low, grinding screech. I continued to walk but my head was raised and my brow began to drop in wonder. The sound turned to sounds, and I drew my machete. The sound of my feet on the concrete began to fade away as the machine like echo got louder and louder. As I got to the top of the summit, I saw the helicopter, landed with the propeller slowing to a stop.

There were 3 or 4 ASMZ soldiers pulling out zombie after zombie from the side door. They were all chained together, bleeding and slobbering their black ooze that is so popular on my calloused hands. The sound was coming from a bull horn at the top of the helicopter. It sounded familiar but I'm not sure where I heard it from before. And right now, I couldn't make that memory important. Somehow, the ASMZ were able to control them with this.... sound. The frequency was bouncing around in the air and I could feel it pierce my body. I continued to walk with my weapons ready.

Just on the other side of the helicopter was the safe house. I could see 12 or more ZFC members gathering outside, just as curious as I was. As I walked, I noticed one of the members arguing with the ZFC leader. Pointing at the helicopter, and yelling. I couldn't hear anything over the noise of the bull horn, and at this point I was walking with my hands over my ears. I watched as the ZFC leader held her arm as she tried to pull away. She was angry. Obviously at the ASMZ and what looked like a zombie test being held right at the ZFC's

As she rounded the back of the helicopter, the noise was too great and even she had to put her hands over her ears. The zombies were bleeding from their ears, but standing motionless. She stormed up with her finger raised. I watched an ASMZ member raise his arm, extended with a pistol and fired one round into the rib of the local ZFC member.

Everything slowed down for me.

She started to fall onto a line of zombies, the ASMZ officers got back in the helicopter, the propeller immediately started to turn. The zombies shuffled to the side as the girl, wide eyed fell through them to the ground. The legs of the helicopter left the ground. The frequency stopped.

As soon as the sound stopped booming from the bull horn, I watched life...or undead life come back into they eyes of the zombies. She reached for me. But there was nothing I could do. The zombies noticed her body at their feet. She didn't even scream. She was ripped to her bones by the time the helicopter lifted out of the way. The rest of the ZFC caught the end of what happened. Times like this, I wish slow motion would go away. Some members fell to the ground and cried, others stood there and screamed 'NO!' Most of them started running towards the red and black puddles where the zombies were slipping and fighting each other for the rest of an arm or foot.

I helped in the battle. It wasn't hard because they were all chained together. It was the worst fight Ive ever been in though. Because we had to fight there in the remains of a fallen ZFC member.

Her name was SASHA. Resistance fighter for 6 months.

We delivered the food and water to our needy community. The zombies in chains, we believe were meant for the local ZFC. They were watching me.... they wanted me to see what they would do. I'm actually starting to fear for my family now. Its not like last year. They don't want my guns or my food supply.... they want me. They want me to suffer.

I talked to Lord Micah (our frequency scientist) and he said there are other uses for the EPOD vest. Other than protecting you from abnormal blasts of radiation, it acts as a communication device of some sort. He said it was more complicated than that, but he'd explain later.

I heard from JIG also. He is planning to send someone from his ZFC in the U.K. down to discuss his position. He cant come down here right now anyway. Its not safe for him. The local ZFC's around here would either put a hit out on him or do it themselves. What happened at the College Station GYPSY GROUP compound pissed alot of people off, and it'll take a while to get that whole pot o'water to stop boiling.

My time is up, and my hands are still shaking. Hard day at work after such a hard zombie fight earlier today. Here's to making tomorrow so much better.

Thank you all for helping in our fight. I'll report again soon.

Eddie Rotten

KILLEM'ALL!!

2 comments:

  1. The ASMZ has always been bold, but they are becoming even more so, it seems...

    ReplyDelete
  2. What's the word on JIG? Is he with us or not?

    ReplyDelete