Tim and Carly have a radio. I turned it to the frequency of the variety station from Canada, 93.1. Guess what was on it?
“…majority of you walk the streets and earth, dead on your feet. The rest of you are both doomed and not deserving of life. You are nothing. What is different between you and the undead from which you hide? They will devour you. After that, nothing. You will all be one. The humans of the world have been digging their own…”
I turned it to 93.3.
“…existed. You kill each other in the names of gods who don’t exist. You build weapons of mass destruction to kill wholesale your “enemies.” People who don’t…”
“…who’s governments don’t agree with you. You ignore each…”
“…Plague Lord. I have brought about the absolution that is…”
What the hell is this shit? Every frequency? Ugh.
Guess what happened at six o clock this morning! …Yeah, you never would.
Well I was sleeping (obviously) and awoke to the sounds zombies trying to break the walls down. This elicited an emotional reaction in me similar to what I imagine a Vietnam vet would feel if he heard gunshots outside of his house.
I woke up Carly to help and Tim so he wouldn’t feel like an ass sleeping through us cleaning up the mess outside. Because he would. Dude practically dies every night and reanimates in the morning. Probably not an appropriate metaphor given the state of the world right now. Anyway.
We peeked outside from the second floor windows, and what didn’t surprise us was the tight ring of zombies around the house. What did was the living man trying to make his way to our door with a crowbar. He looked pretty desperate.
We ran back downstairs and waited at the door until he got close enough to knock, yanked it open, and hauled him inside. Tim immediately trained his gun on the guy, who promptly threw his hands up. He was wearing glasses and a backpack. He didn’t carry a gun, just his crowbar.
“What the hell do you want?” I demanded.
“Please. My place got overrun. I saw your boarded windows so I thought there must be people here.”
“What’s your name?” Carly asked.
“Jared Cox. I’m a geneticist. My friend and I were trying to get these viruses figured out. A giant horde seemingly came out of nowhere and bulldozed us.”
“What happened to him?” I asked. He didn’t say anything. I can be kind of insensitive.
“Did you figure anything out?” Tim asked.
“All the further we got was that we found out this virus is really… tweakable. It’s not very hard to change its behavior and effects.”
“Really…” I said.
“Yeah, I just need a place to stay while I get myself back together and figure out where to get the equipment to keep working on it. Luckily I was able to save a couple petri dishes of the viruses.”
He opened his backpack and showed us the contents.
“I brought enough food for myself for a few days.”
That sounded fair to me. I looked at Carly and Tim. Carly gave me a sideways glance and shrugged. Tim lowered his gun.
“Uh… Sorry about the mess outside,” Jared said.
“Shit happens,” I said. “Carly?”
“Let’s go clean this up. Quietly.”
Sure thing, she said.