Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Ain't no flies on me, boy.
The rest of the world sneers at the South, and at Texas, and especially at rural Texas. I know--I've done a lot of the sneering. (I'm a Yankee, I'm practically required to).
But when the world ends, I know where I want to be: behind thick walls, in the company of a bunch of wild-eyed rednecks who have more guns than teeth, who've been using those guns since before they could walk, and whose willingness to squeeze a trigger isn't diminished or affected by the amount of alcohol they've consumed or by the sight of a human (or what looks like one) appearing in their sites.
I saw what was happening fairly quickly. I'm online all day, every day, and when the blog posts started popping up on my Bloglines roll, I knew what was going on. (Trust me: when you live on Texas scrub land, the way I do, 25 miles from s.f.a. in three directions, and you walk your dog late at night, and actually listen to the night sounds...well, you're not surprised when people start saying that the dead are rising).
Home wasn't an option. I've buried too many pets in the acre out back for the trailer to be safe place to go to. (One zombie rat might not pose a problem. But I've put at least twenty of them in the ground over the years we've been here. And that's not even counting the zombie wasps we've killed).
But, honestly, I wasn't interested in that. We've got a prison here in town. Big prison. Large, thick walls. High security prison, too--it's where Texas executes its prisoners--so the guards are well-armed, and practiced with the guns. They've got enough food inside to last a couple of months, at least.
So I pulled aside a few friends at work, grabbed a few goodies, and drove right to the prison. The guards, well, they weren't necessarily happy about opening the gates, but a few more fingers on triggers are always welcome.
And now I'm inside, typing up a blog entry (probably my last). I'm sharing a cell (only bunks available here are in the cells) with my friends and the few other townies and folks from the library who made it here. We'll take our shift on the walls tonight, but before then...we're gonna have some fun. My coworkers knew some kids on campus with good weed, so we brought that. I put a keg in the back of the S.U.V. before we came. So we'll have a nice party tonight.
Of course, the guards have an even better idea. Turns out zombies are vicious (like the movies always said) but they're slow (Romero 1, Danny Boyle 0) and easy to catch. They threw a net over one, some scumbag the state shot up only a few years ago--he hasn't decomposed much--and tossed him in a cell. At the party, we'll start shoving people in there with him and see how long they last. I'm guessing it'll be more fun to watch than dogfighting. The guards and prisoners are using this to settle some scores. Me too. Me and a few of the professors brought a couple of Deans with us. They'll go in with the zombie, too.
And after that? Well, some of the guards grabbed a female zombie and have her in restraints down in the medical wing. I'm thinking we might have a little party with her later.
End of the world, my ass. This is the beginning of the best party ever.