Part 2.
After restocking our overflowing kitchen and celebrating our survival, it seems as though our joyful moment was a little premature. Cases are being reported in China, Thailand, and India.
Rachel finally got through to her mum and everything is okay. Rachel just crashed on her bed and didn’t even say a word, so I’m writing this on the staircase outside the apartment. It’s the only spot in the building that’s quiet. I’ve been trying to call Mum and Dad but I haven’t got through.
I’ve spent the past couple of nights trying to get away from all this death and morbid conversation. Last night Derek, Michael, and I were in the kitchen chatting away for a couple of hours. Obviously one of the most important things in life is football and beating Germany, but the Germans have managed to take our superiority in beating them and done the unthinkable: they don’t care. At all. How any German is supposed to hold their head high when they lose a game to England is madness. They don’t even go crazy in celebrations when they beat us. For a while I was convinced it was because they’ve mastered some kind of German Zen. Maybe it’s the thinking of “You get us wrong, Englishman. Vee build cars. Very good cars. Denn vee drink beer. There just isn’t enough time left over to care about football.” That’s what I wondered, but noooo. Who do they go nuts over beating? The Dutch.
Seriously? The Dutch of all people? What has The Netherlands ever done to Germany to become arch rivals?
So it was me, a German guy, and a Dutch guy going over twenty year’s worth of football. I can’t say I really contributed much to the conversation but I’m really good at nodding my head. We were eventually interrupted by Cristina and Katy and there was … another drinking game. We invited Sofia along and the only rule was: no French kids. Why? Because we started playing “I have never ever.”
“I have never ever had sex on a roof.” Because I had, I had to take a drink.
“I have never ever had sex in a swimming pool.” Already I was at a disadvantage and I realised why this game gets more liver-killy when you hit 23: you’ve had more time to do crazy shit. So whenever we did something we had to take a drink and no matter how clean we started it shot straight to sex and stayed on sex for two hours. Rachel came in to join us. So did Ediz, who admitted that he was a bad Muslim for drinking but that he wasn’t exactly orthodox to begin with.
We saw a little of Louise. She sat and listened but didn’t participate. I guess not everyone is a bundle of joy around strangers. She said the apartment wasn’t what she expected. She thought it would be a four bedroom at most and finding a dozen people living here wasn’t what she wanted. She also wanted a non-smoking apartment and feels ripped off. She’s on edge because today’s the last day she’s supposed to stay here. Tomorrow someone else is due to come and take her place in the apartment and she might not have anywhere to sleep.
What I got from
World War Z
: Keep your phone on silent if you’re about to sneak past zombies. Also avoid Brad Pitt. Bad luck seems to follow him wherever he goes.
Part 3.
Uh, Nadia hasn’t been home in a couple of days. Everyone was asking around and no one saw her last night or today. No one has her phone number. Her stuff is still in her bedroom and there’s nothing obvious saying where she would have gone to. No laptop, though. If she went somewhere then she planned on staying the night. That’s the thing that’s kept us relatively calm. She probably spent a couple of nights with someone from her class. Cristina said she would call the school and find out who Nadia sat with and if there are any phone numbers available, but the school is still closed and no one was answering the phone.
We have her parents’ phone number in India, but we’re hesitant about calling. The last thing we need to do is stir up panic for someone else’s parents, especially if they can’t do anything from over there except call their daughter over and over again. No one picks up the phone these days anyway, you just send a text message and wait for an answer. We’ll have to wait until she comes back.
24 July
We’ve tracked down Nadia. She met a couple of people from her home town and they’ve been huddled around the TV in some guy’s apartment.
A dozen cities around the world are starting to look like Tiananmen Square with tanks rolling in and blocking off everything in sight. The infected are running around like crazy, violently attacking everything they can. Some are climbing up the side of buildings, breaking through windows and crawling inside.
Now for the bad news: the Spanish army has rolled into Madrid as a pre-emptive measure against the disease. I suppose if you use enough bullets that will kill the disease. There is now a curfew in place from 10pm to 6am. No clubbing for anyone. Chuecca’s economy will collapse because of that.
Loudspeakers are broadcasting the news in a dozen languages. Tonight they’re bringing in special trucks to hose down the entire city and spray the area with a special sort of chemical, a mass disinfectant and pesticide. They’re trying to kill all the fleas, stray cats, and rats. As a result of this spray, which will be kinda noxious, we have to close all of our windows and keep them closed throughout the day. Our apartment doesn’t have air conditioning. The curfew extends to different suburbs during the day as well when they’re spraying around the clock. At night they’ll be dumping all of this crap over the entire city via airplanes and helicopters.
Now for the even more bad news: there isn’t enough of this chemical for the whole city. There’s definitely not enough to cleanse the whole country. There will be a lot of towns and villages without any of this miracle cure and they will be susceptible to the spread. For now, though, Spain is trying to get the trucks out to every port and every border crossing and disinfect it all at the point of entry.
I’m wondering what will happen to the homeless people, because there are quite a few of them. You can’t dump noxious chemicals on them, nor can you risk having hundreds or even thousands of people sleeping in the streets when the first zombie strolls in. Where are they going to put them all?
The world economy has already hit the worst scare since The Great Depression. No one is travelling, no one is willing to take on a mortgage now that the dead are roaming the Earth. People are calling in sick and then realising what a bad idea that is. What happens when they turn up in a few days and their boss wonders if they’ve been bitten by a flea? If they’re not crammed around a TV then they are lining up for miles at hospitals to get a jab of something or other.
America has led the way in damage control. Banks are forbidden from foreclosing on properties due to delays in pay or loss of income. They were all bailed out a couple of years ago and most of the banks still haven’t repaid their … what, gift? It’s hardly a loan if they don’t pay it back. Let’s call it a gift. When the US President goes on TV, asking for everyone to pull together in this time of crisis, you kind of tune out. I mean, that’s what he’s supposed to say. When the Prime Minister asks for industry leaders to pull together, you also kind of tune out. When the Queen says the same thing you end up taking home a different message;
‘Dear CEOs who are thinking of hiding until this crisis is over. I have an air force. You don’t.’
One industry that’s thriving is bullshit miracle cures for pets. No one wants Chance or Rusty to go on a murderous rampage after they’re turned into a zombie, so a few people (those who are most deserving to rot in Hell) have stockpiled all the bottled multi-vitamins and herbal health pills they can find. They’ve changed the label and are now selling it as a cure for your pooch. You can buy it all for a low, low mark up of 1,000%.
Mum and Dad made it out of London and are staying with Bill and Grace in Eastbourne. It took them three days to clear the motorway. Three days to travel seventy five miles. It would have been quicker to walk.
Yesterday I learned that if petrol has been sitting in your car for more than a month then it will deteriorate to the point of being undriveable. If you’ve stored it in a jerrycan then it will last for a year. That’s good to know in case I have to live in a post-apocalyptic world.
I say ‘live’. What the fuck kind of survival skills do I have? I’ve shot a gun thanks to clay pigeon shooting. I can change a tire. I have no idea how to rebuild an engine. I can cook food but I have no idea how to hunt an animal. Even if I caught a rabbit I wouldn’t know which parts of it were edible and which were not. I’ve been cramming like crazy through Youtube survival videos but it’s not enough.
There was this woman on a desert island game show a few years ago. She was trying to micromanage her teammate who was starting a fire by hand. She kept hassling him for not using the right technique. She read how to do it in a book. Then: boom, the guy she was managing made fire! He dusted off his hands and said, “While you were reading, I was practicing. You can make the next fire.”
I’m four floors up in the middle of a city in the middle of summer. I don’t really have access to firewood. I don’t know to clear a gun jam, which car is best for hotwiring, or even how to have a cool night’s rest in the middle of summer!
The news is saying this thing got to Iran as well, only no one reported it until now. It hit Iran in the south east of the country, which is supposed to be a problem area and as such no one really contacted the government asking for help. They have plenty of guns, though. The only thing is the zombies aren’t staying down. As long as they still have some of their brains intact then they’re up and about causing mayhem.
There are reporters all over the world broadcasting from their hotel rooms on their phones. There’s a lot of bogus information going around on how to protect yourself from these fleas. Some are all right, like laying a towel under the bottom of the door and keeping your pets inside. But let’s think about that for a minute. If you have a dog and it needs to relieve itself then it’s going to be forced to do it in the house, so walking around with dog shit over the floor and disposing of it is going to be awful. Then there’s the garbage that will pile up. Someone will eventually have to open a window and dump the trash outside and that’s when the killer fleas will jump in and party like it was Ibiza. No one will bring their bins to the side of the road, they’ll just hurl it towards the street.
The CDC has found out how long it takes to infect someone. Via a flea bite it takes 3 - 4 days before the signs become noticeable and then another 3 - 4 days before you start to feel really miserable. Death takes place 2 - 3 days later and the good news is that not everyone returns as a zombie. I say ‘good news’ there. The resurrection rate is 80%. They don’t have firm data yet on how long it takes via a zombie bite but they’re saying it’s faster.
They’ve tried communicating with the zombies in the prisons. They are talking to them, playing music, getting them to interact with each other. No luck. Whatever semblance of personality they started with when they were fresh as a zombie deteriorated quickly. Some of the zombies in prison haven’t had food or water in six days and are still alive, though they are shuffling around like the Romero zombies. The fresh ones are faster and more aggressive.
Ultimately, the virus is the only thing keeping the body ‘alive’. It completely takes it over, spreading and mutating so that it controls basic motor skills. There are still enough neurons firing in the brain for the person to be basically aware of what’s going on, that they’re sick and they need help, but the virus isn’t making the body weaker. It’s designed to keep the body from dying. Of course, the heart has stopped beating, but by then the virus has spread so quickly and so effectively that it’s able to keep the skin, veins, and organs working to some degree. I guess everyone who has it will end up like the Karloff Frankenstein monster, instead of the intelligent and tuneful classic version from the book.
And … it’s getting closer to Spain. The strike in France has helped somewhat by shutting down most of the public transport, but the ports, trucks, and highways were still active. Nice has fallen prey. That’s a sobering thought, really. I was there just last week and now they have one confirmed patient who hasn’t travelled in months.
The latest tally is: 19 countries are reporting an outbreak. It’s so wide spread that it’s too difficult to get an accurate count of the infected or the number of fatalities. It’s hit the Chinese countryside and from there things are only going to get worse. Food is going to be in short supply and if it’s contaminated with fleas and blood then what the hell are we supposed to do?
I’m guessing that if these things do start to take over we’ll only be able to determine what is a human and what is not through the use of dogs. If a dog trusts you enough to come near you, then you’re human. If it tries to kill you, then you’re not human. Thank God I’m good with animals.
I miss Basil. I miss rubbing his little belly while he sleeps.
Everyone here is sick of talking about just one thing. Most of us are hiding in our rooms, reading books that everyone has passed around. I’m reading a Nora Roberts book that Katy gave me. I can’t believe I’m saying this since it’s something that I would never read voluntarily, but it’s actually quite good.
The Internet is slow and I imagine every government has put a filter in place to stop the spread of misinformation. Unfortunately, none of us trust the government and their version of the truth.
Huh. I hear some moaning coming from next door. The French girl is getting some. Rock on.
Everyone in the apartment is downloading movies and TV shows. We’re all terrified of what happens when the Internet finally freezes. After all, if people aren’t going to work to fix anything that breaks down then it’s only a matter of time before the TV, radio, and Internet goes kaput.
I can smell the disinfectant through the city, even though we aren’t in the suburb that’s being cleaned up. Let’s hope it works.
Louise’s replacement hasn’t turned up. Probably won’t, either.