Page 1 of Purgatory
Chapter 1
Alessandra
September
I fucking HATE zombocalypse. I remember watching the T.V. shows and movies where the plot was focused on the living dead. There I was, loving the drama and the suspense that came with binging each season. How were the main characters going to cope? What was the new villain going to bring to the franchise? Or, God forbid, which well-loved character was going to bite the bullet and create a social networking frenzy? Well, I hate to break it to you but, they can all fuck off because living with all of that as a reality sucks.
It’s been eight months since this shit-show started. That’s all it took. Eight measly months. At first, it was just a headline in one of those tabloid magazines. You know the ones I'm talking about: “Man found eating another man’s arm in Georgia,” or something fucked up like that. No one took it seriously. Why would they? Not with Hollywood desensitizing everyone to it. Not when hospitals were actively trying to cover it up to not set the population in a panic.Oh no. It's nothing to worry about. He’s just having a reaction to his medication...Bitch, no he’s not, he just fucking ate that guy’s face off like a person on a diet does to a juicy cheeseburger on cheat day. FuckingDEVOUREDit.
It hit the population like a Cat-5 hurricane. I lost everyone I knew by month two and have been on my own for six months now. Come to think of it, I haven’t even seen another living person in four months. Dead people and thereanimated? They’re everywhere.
The first few months were awful. Terrifying really. Walking down the street and then a person next to you drops dead out of nowhere. The ‘powers thatwere’decided that whatever was causing the people to drop dead wasn’t completely like how Hollywood always depicted it. There wasn’t a prerequisite, like getting bit by a zombie, to turn into one. Granted that would be effective as well. All you needed to do was be close enough to one to catch the virus and it was game over within hours. Death sentence by halitosis. Fucking nonsense.
The ironic part about it was that the government and all their officials had the “shelter in place” initiative to combat any transmission. Little did they know, it just enhanced it. The ‘shelter in place’ was foreveryone,no exceptions for people to help remove the threat or do anything proactive to help the situation. Well, apart from the poor saps down at the hospitals that were fucked from the get go or the small security task force whose only job was to walk around like night security guards making sure no one left their house or the hospital. While living, breathing people complied with quarantines, reanimated corpses did little to adhere to guidelines. Once they figured out how to open a door in their zombie state, they spread the virus without mercy. Like the fucking velociraptors in Jurassic Park.The original one.And just as hungry. The task force had no chance whatsoever in stopping them.
Lucky for me, these zombies are the slow kind. At least that’s one positive thing I can cling to in this mess. I don’t think I’d be able to handle them if they were Resident Evil style. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not out of shape, by any means. But who would honestly be able to take down a swarm of zombies when they’re all running right at you like crazy ass crackheads? Not this girl. Nope.
The only way I managed to survive was because I livedalone and as soon as I heard of an outbreak in my town, I said fuck the initiativesand hightailed it out of there like the devil’s own hell hounds were nipping at my bare ass. Word already got to me that my family had died because of it. They were part of the first wave, having lived in Georgia, themselves. The epicenter and the location of patient zero. I still get emotional when I think about it, but I don’t let my mind drift to that very often. The dark space I crash into is unrelenting, and survival is key.
As for myself? I lived far enough away to have some time to prepare. I’ve always been one to have a fascination with conspiracy theories. Not necessarily jumping on the bandwagon and wearing a tinfoil hat or anything but just hearing people out and letting the puzzle pieces fall as they reveal themselves. When I heard about the incident in Georgia, I didn’t think too much about it, simply asked my parents what they thought about everything, or if it even actually happened since they were closer to ground zero. They didn’t seem worried, until everyone around them started getting sick. They left me a voicemail detailing such and sending their love. It was the last time I heard from them before a friend of the family called informing me of what happened and confirming the rumors to be true.That zombies weren’t a work of fiction anymore...
Not too long after that, our wonderful government issued a nationwide statement about how some people seemed to be immune to the virus and that they were working on furthering and enhancing containment protocol. Something to do with blood types or some other nonsense.
Regardless, their meager attempts to placate the masses and temper any impending panic were futile. People panicked...and then they died. All except for me, it seems. I don’t know if the statement on immunity is accurate, but I take no chances, wearing a balaclava around my neck andkeeping a baseball bat in my bag just in case I have a run in with Satan’s army.
Ever since I left my apartment, I’ve been on the move. Never staying in the same place for more than a month or two. Cities end up being too overly populated and thus perfect targets for an outbreak. I, on the other hand, try to stick to the little towns and hamlets. Less of a chance of coming across a horde although, I’ll admit, I have had my run-ins. Too close for comfort but I’m here and alive today so I’ll thank whomever it is that considers me worthy of being helped and forge on. I’ve been pretty lucky, so far. Since I’m headed south (ish), most of the towns are vacated. The residents having up and moved due to its proximity to potential hot spots, leaving me plenty of options for a temporary vacation home and the ability to avoid the bad breath brigade.
Finally, I reach the top of the hill that seems to be never-ending. It feels like I’ve been climbing it for hours. I’m out of breath and sweating bullets but there it is, my potential new home.
“Oh, fuck, yes!” I jump and fist-bump the sky with excitement. My giddy little toes can hardly bare to stand still.
My last ‘home’ lasted almost two months, before... well beforetheyshowed up. I was on my way back from scouting for food when I saw them. Dozens of them coming up the main road. I ran. I didn’t even go back to gather additional supplies from where I was staying. Once the zombies come to a town, they devour it. Like a swarm of locusts descending on a plump field of crops. The people that refuse to leave are no exception. Straight up carrion for the evil dead vultures.
This new town is smaller than the last one but looks untouched and empty. Lucky me!
I wonder if I can find any marshmallows...
To Do List:
#1 Find a new hideaway
#2 Find marshmallows, and whatever else I may need to survive
#3 Eat ALL the marshmallows
#4 Sleep until noon tomorrow
Yup, sounds like a plan...
It’s amazing, the little things you miss when they’re no longer so readily available. Marshmallows are one of those things for me. Especially the roasted, gooey ones. Oh, I’m practically drooling at the thought.
Hot water is another. It's amazing how fast society collapses when half of the population is no longer working. Transportation and shipping of goods? Gone. Access to medical facilities? Nada. Electrical grid? Finito. Poof. All gone. And now I must resort to ice cold baths.Yippeee...
You know what else is no longer readily available? Sex. My poor kitty cat is in desperate need of attention. It’s not like I haven’t taken care of business myself but come on, everyone knows there’s no comparison to a real, live, hard, throbbing...
Crunch...
“What was that?”
