I walked outside the other day. Foggy. Dim lit street lights. One of those mornings that Texas brings when you least expect it. I heard a moan coming from somewhere in the yard. Too foggy to see more than 10 feet in front of me. BLAM! A burst of light shot ahead toward the ground. Then.. an amber glow from a cigarette approached me. It was my oldest son.
"So... your smoking now?" I said with half acceptance. What was I to do? The stress of this zombie Apocalypse takes its toll on people differently. I should know. I've had one here and there over the past few months. My moral compass always drifts though. I can feel the poison seep into my blood when I smoke these days. Maybe that's why I did it.
I walked toward my son and saw the clump of zombie he left on the grass. It was half gone to begin with. My son said it looked like people were still playing ZOMBIE RUN. The game where people would tie zombies to the back of the car and see how many other zombies they could knock over. I gotta tell you though, even with an undead half body crawling through my yard, my son smoking in front of me got to me even worse. It means he's got more to worry about than how his old man will think of him. Don't know weather to be upset or shake his hand.
He was using his Desert Eagle. His favorite gun. I hadn't seen him take it out in a while so it was nice to see it shine through the thick fog of the morning. Things were weird with Lokey gone. Africa awaits him. He's probably already there but I haven't heard from him. Lord Micah called yesterday and said some things to me that were... unsettling. He mentioned having children. He never said anything before but the sound of his voice seemed like it was pretty serious. 3 children. 2 girls and a boy.
After the zombies came in 2011, he lost everything. Because of a divorce his children were scattered and he wasn't able to find them. 'Still' isn't able to find them I should say. So, along with killing zombies and regrouping the Houston ZFC.... it looks like I'm going to help Lord Micah trace his kids down. That should be interesting. He said he'd call back soon and give me details. He thinks they might be in my area. I didn't have the heart to tell him but, there is NOTHING in my area. Most of the neighborhoods are dead. The ASMZ made damn sure of that. The only reason why my family and I are still here is because we make such a big fuss over everything. If we disappear, everything we've said over the past year and a half would be true. So for now, we live.
My son and I walked around to the front of the yard and barely made out my NEW neighbor. The old neighbor was put down by the cops the other day. He was bitten at the convenient store. Turned. And attacked the dude behind the counter. Vicious bastard. Even before he turned zombie. Its probably better he was put down.
My new neighbor was standing there looking at us. Just.... looking. Blank look on his face. As we got closer to him I started to feel dizzy, almost like puking. I remember my son grabbing my arm and pulling me back towards the house. THUD THUD THUD. My head was banging on the inside. I fell down and my son dragged me by my arms to the porch. He got on top of me and started slapping me in the face. As I looked up at him he was yelling. But I didn't hear him. Almost like I was in a dream. He continued slapping me and feeling my forehead. He pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it out into the fog. I saw the white blasts from the Desert Eagle, but again. I heard nothing. He mouthed to me, "GET UP! GET UP!!" I started to regain reality again. My knees moved with out me thinking about it so my senses were coming back. He grabbed a second gun from his back and handed it to me. 9mm. My favorite. I looked into the fog where he was shooting and saw them. ZOMBIES. At least 20 or more zombie coming to us through the heavy gray air.
My neighbor stood there emotionless. With out moving, he stared blankly at us. I was on my feet now. My hearing started to return, muffled but improved. I took aim and shot. One after another the zombies were dropping. My clip was only half full but my sons Desert Eagle was taking multiple zombs out at a time. MW3 Tactic. Who's says video games are pointless?
My neighbor started stomping his foot. Then his feet. Then he opened his mouth and rotated his head around and around. Through the fog, I saw him start to smoke. His eyes. His mouth. Yes.... He was burning! Burning from inside! Almost like he was awake to what was going on but unable to do anything about it. His eyes turned black and dark ooze started erupting from his mouth. He turned violently to his truck, opened the door, reached under the seat. Then.... POP! A bright white flash came from the cabin of the F-150. His body dropped lifeless on the seat behind the passenger door. My son and I continued firing into the mob of zombies charging toward us. Through the heat of our rounds and Gods hand, the fog started to disperse. The zombies thinned out and the survivors were now crawling over the dead bodies to get at us. Howling that awful empty, dry scream into the foggy morning. My son noticed, "Dad! Look!" From the far side of the zombies we could clearly see a white van. Unmarked. Windows. And the description of someone we now fear. Barry Soeterror. 1st Commander of the ASZM. He had a gun aimed in our direction. Not at us, but at the zombies. We stopped firing. He knew we saw him but his aim stayed fixed on the zombies. Almost like a remote control car. He was smiling like a child. No bullets came from this odd shaped gun, and the zombies that were left to crawl began smoking from the ears and mouth just as my neighbors did. One by one they stopped moving.
My son and I stood there at the front door. What the hell did he have? 1st Commander Barry Soeterror saluted us, gave a quick grin and shouted, "Pocket sized! We can thank the Russians!" The van drove of spiraling fog into a donut behind it.
In its wake was a pile of smoking zombies. We didn't even need to waste the ammo. I think now that our neighbor was an innocent bystander. Poor dude. I wasn't able to understand the suicide until I went in with my son and tried to make sense of what Commander Barry Soeterror yelled at us. "WE CAN THANK THE RUSSIANS."
I googled it. RUSSIANS DEVELOPE ZOMBIE GUN. Sure enough. The EMP gun that was found in the catacombs of NASA had been modified. Apparently by the Russians. They are using it as a mob deterrent but in the wrong hands, it could be, and is deadly. Its getting attention though. I found it in Yahoo News and other sources are carrying the story too. Not good. It seems to be just like the HUM ATTACK weaponry that the ASMZ are using in Africa, but silent and able to fit in your hand. After putting together the story from the net, and seeing what happened to my neighbor, I assessed that the silent electromagnetic microwaves fried him from the inside out. Thus explaining the smoke coming from his ears, nose and mouth. I'm for ever grateful to my son for pulling me out of the way.
My wife walked in and saw what we were doing. "You guys are all alike. Your focusing on one or two small things. You should be focusing on the big picture. They don't want us to look up. Hell... they don't want us to look at all." I swiveled away from the computer and gave my attention to her. My son put his hands up and walked into the kitchen. "Don't you see honey? The world is a pilot for Americas downfall. Everything that happens here has been tried and proven to work elsewhere in the world. You think small cars were brought back to save gas? They were a pilot program in China, England, Russia... and now here. It was just another test by the NEW WORLD ORDER to shrink the size of our families.... through trendy 2 door coups. How are you supposed to take 5 kids to the park in a Mini Cooper? Population control! Not to mention PROJECT GLASS by GOOGLE. DONT GET ME STARTED ON MIND CONTROL!"
I sat there and shrugged my shoulders. "This zombie gun is no different." She went on. "They tried it out in other countries and now its a device that will be publicized by the banks that own the media and before you know it, all the world will be rejoicing about HOW WONDERFUL THE NEW ZOMBIE GUN IS!!!!" My wife doesn't usually go off, so I could tell this all really freaked her out. "Don't you ever wonder if this fits into what the Bible says about THE EARTH BEING BAPTIZED BY FIRE? Maybe these EMP guns were chosen to fulfil Gods plan of destiny here on Earth?!?"
I stood up and helped my wife sit down. She was pissed. Pissed that she got up early and watched her son blast a crawling zombie in our yard. Pissed that she had to go get her shotgun and watch out the window, just to make sure she could help if we needed it. Pissed at how it seems were loosing this war to the most evil and foul creatures of this planet. And I'm not talking about zombies....
After sitting down my wife continued. "Don't you see? There's something were not supposed to see. Something that is keeping our eyes from looking up. Why wont they just leave us all alone? These Ipads and cell phones, hand held games and GPS. They want us to look down. They want us to ONLY look down. Slaves. We've all become slaves!" She started crying.
I held her and rocked with her back and forth for most of the morning. She was done. I was too.
She calmed down and apologized to me. "Our community needs us. Our ZFC needs us, we cant give up. Don't let me give up and I wont let you." We kissed, held hands and watched our new favorite show on HULU PLUS. The River. Pretty good show.