Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Atheists Nightmare, Part Five

Backtracking, I walk the bicycle I’ve liberated towards my dorm room, avoiding any other unfortunate encounters of the ghoulish kind by ducking beneath windows. I can hear the Catholic Preacher (seems like a fair enough title to give to a free-willed undead that preaches) still amassing his army outside, preaching to them from the gospels as they move further away from my dorm room.

I slip in through the window, over the headless body of Laura (maybe Loren?) and head over to the computer, where I boot up the internet to see what in the world is going on. Logging on through my e-mail, I have like ten e-mails from my family asking if I’m okay. I type off a quick response that I’m surviving and that I hope they’re safe too.
It’s only when I reach the news page of my internet scrolling do I realize how pointless me e-mail was; they aren’t in any danger back in Colorado. This is confined to one city in the United States.
San Antonio.
A biological weapon that went off at a military base that quickly spread out of control, the Center for Disease Control already has all the roads leading out of town blocked off, along with a military presence ever hundred feet surrounding the city ready to shoot any undead that try and leave. At the moment the pathogen is still airborne, and anybody in the area can be considered infected.
That brings a smile to my face just thinking about it, knowing I may get shot on the general principle that I live in a city with five military bases! Scrolling through the stories as they continue to pop up, I see that film from within the restricted zone (aka, where I’m sitting) shows Preachers of varying shapes and sizes, surrounded by armed zombies, going to war with each other upon encountering one another.
One video I upload shows seven zombies, all armed with heavy piping, clubbing at a grey skinned child who is screaming at them to stop, while another grey skinned older man watches on impassively, clutching a bible to his side with rotting fingers. The footage is shaky and the audio crackles, but you can just hear the grey skinned older man speak out.
“Spare the rod and spoil the child! If this impudent rat thinks he knows the true path to salvation, let us beat it out of him so we can see for ourselves.”
The other zombies all grunt and groan in agreement as the methodically club the screaming child, breaking his limbs and tearing away great chunks of mottled skin. The child is not so much as crying as it is screeching, screeching biblical verses as it is clubbed to its final death. The video clip ends there, but there are hundreds more I could look at, some being uploaded to youtube. Scanning the titles, I see one labeled “Satanic Zombie –University of Texas at San Antonio”.
Seeing as I’m in the dorm rooms of that university, I want to see what might be lurking out there. Clicking play I hear a whispered girls voice, obviously scared.
“Alright, so I came out of the library and saw it standing by the fountain with like, ten other people. All of them have slit throats and upside down crosses carved on their foreheads, though the one that seems to be the leader, there, you can see him moving around like a dog!”
The camera moves in and indeed, there is a zombie that is walking on its knuckles as it moves, taking corners extra sharp just to slide around. They have three people trapped between them all, who are clutching at each other in absolute horror. The most mobile zombie of all is one with hulking shoulders and dreadlocks, which turns its head about back and forth as it howls forth blasphemous things.
“String them up! String them up by their own tendons so they can dance for us like the puppets of God that they purport to be.” It shrieks, waving a pistol at the group as several zombies bearing knives walk up to the group. One person steps away, arms raised in a peaceful gesture, saying something to the Preacher zombie. It laughs and spits at him.
“Arrangement? I need more followers if I am to get out of here, and how am I to attract them without live bait? Consider yourself lucky Christian pig that I don’t just split you open and feast on your beating heart right now!”
The clip ends with me staring in silence at the screen, wondering where in the Hell I went wrong in choosing to come to San Antonio for a degree. Turning on another news report, I sit back and rub my eyes as I listen.
“The military has yet to comment on the situation, and the Center for Disease Control has only released that the virus is airborne and is currently only lethal after untreated exposure for over seventy two hours. Survivors are encouraged to go to one of the safe zones within the city to get air lifted out into a CDC control camp, where they can be treated and kept from dying of this noxious disease.”
Looking at the map, I smile as my luck may have just changed; atop the main parking garage is a safe zone, where survivors are holing up and waiting for helicopters. If I can make it there, I can get out of this nightmare and get treated, maybe even cured! But who knows how long I’ve been infected? Clicking through several pages of story material, I find what I’m looking for: signs of infection.
“Stage one: overwhelming hunger and thirst as well as a rise in fever.” I read aloud. “This stage can last up to forty hours, making it hard to detect.”
“Stage two: pustules under the skin that burst if pressure is applied. This stage is when the subject is most likely to turn into a normal zombie and can last anywhere from eight to ten hours. During this time the subject is highly contagious and can become irrational.”
“Stage Three: the terminal stage. During this stage the persons organs begin to shut down, leaving them in crippling agony. This stage can take as long as four hours. During this time no other zombies will approach the subject, even if he is the only supply of fresh meat within sight. Upon death the subject will reanimate and retain a certain spark of the life he once had, as well as the ability to gather other zombies and spark cognition within them.”

“Preachers…” I mutter, rubbing my chin as I lean back in my chair. “So, I have less than three days to get to the top of the parking garage. I can do that!” 

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