Jun. 13th, 2007

eimarra: (Default)
In light of what I've seen on [livejournal.com profile] bonniers's, [livejournal.com profile] underpope's, and [livejournal.com profile] elizabethboyce's pages:

32%

32%
eimarra: (Default)
I live in a quiet neighborhood, so despite the reports of my friends on the Intrawebs, I didn't think much of it that I'd seen no one on the streets since the mailman went by earlier. So I decided to be brave and check things out. Why not? My library books were due today anyway.

Once I got past the immediate neighborhood, traffic looked mostly normal. Maybe a few more cars than usual at the corner store, but nothing that unusual. And the old guy shambling along the side of the road? Well, I figured the key word there was "old." The cars pulling out of the Catholic cemetery at greater speed than normal gave me a bit of pause, but I kept going.

I forgot about Nimsky Hill Cemetery. It's just a block from the library. Yeah, the area was a lot more crowded than usual, and I don't think all the guys hanging around the construction on city hall were on their coffee break. I almost changed my mind and got back in the car when I saw the squirrel. A squirrel moving that slowly just ain't natural.

At least the library was quiet. No moaning, no groaning, no screaming masses. It was touch and go, though, when I got to the New Arrival section. I mean, history's all well and good in its place, but the Last Mohican picking up Laurell K. Hamilton's latest was just too much for me. I checked out and headed home. Hey, I may run out of food, but at least I've got plenty of reading material.

Worst comes to worst, I siphon oil from the heating tank (we've got over 800 gallons right now), soak some of the paperbacks and launch them at anyone who comes too close. Or maybe I'll start with old textbooks--they'll pack more of a wallop.
eimarra: (Default)
In the midst of this madness, I do want to stop and wish a very happy birthday to [livejournal.com profile] slobbit. Her stories brighten my life, and I'm happy to call her my friend.

She was the first one to warn me about the zombie uprising, but I didn't take it very seriously. I wish I had.

My birthday wishes for her: a very pleasant trip to Cupertino, joy in her new job, and fiction sales in the coming year! Happy birthday!
eimarra: (Default)
I keep reading these horror stories, and I'm so worried about my friends. [livejournal.com profile] underpope is gone now. At least he left food for the cats. And didn't try to eat them. [livejournal.com profile] elizabethboyce's mom may be in trouble, and she has some freaky goats wandering around. And evidently [livejournal.com profile] bonniers wrecked a perfectly good electric guitar smashing in a zombie's head to keep it out of the house. Scary.

But . . . there's another side to this, too. Scalzi presents the Undead-American viewpoint very clearly and cogently. And some zombies are even showing up peacefully for casting calls. So they're not all mindless freaks.

I'm beginning to wonder if any of them are, really. Maybe they're just pretending. Or there's some kind of maturation process. I saw something out my front window that really made me think. Police car pulled a big semi--a Special Vehicles Team truck--over in front of my house. Okay, I don't blame the cop; a rig like that doesn't belong in this neighborhood. My guess is he took a wrong turn heading for the Nazareth Pike. But then the cop wanted to see in the back of the truck.

I'm sure there's a car in the truck; that's what it's for. But the grey arm that grabbed the policeman didn't belong to a car. A quick bite, and then the cop was released. He went back to his car, the truck driver closed up the back of the rig, and they both drove off. I don't think either of them saw me watching. The calm was creepy.

But how many were in that truck? And are they supposed to infect the pit crews--the other ones, I mean--or the viewers? I'm not sure, but if you're planning on going to the upcoming race, maybe you should give it a miss. At least if you want to stay, as Scalzi put it, pre-dead.

Intelligent zombies. They're out there, and it's probably not really your brains they're after.

Worry.
eimarra: (Default)
It suddenly occurred to me. We all remember this story, don't we? Sure, it was an accident that he shot him in the face.

Don't believe it. An early zombie moved on Cheney, and he tried to defend himself. He failed. They've been in the White House for over a year.

We've already lost.
eimarra: (Default)
It's still quiet out. No fires, no rioting.

And I know they know I've figured out the conspiracy. The zombies will come after me. But I have to sleep. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

Maybe zombies are like bacteria or yeast, you know? Too many of them and the population can't be sustained. They'll all die. I can hope.

Yeah, that's a sweet thought to go to sleep on. They're eating themselves to death.




. . . unless they've already thought about that . . .

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