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The city is the last place you want to be when the zombie apocalypse hits. Manila is a city of around 19 million people, and that's 19 million potential zombies demanding UUUTAAAAK UUUUTAAAAK, and only the three of us.
I say we should move, but my brother says no, too many of our neighbors have been turned, it's too dangerous. We'll take the car, but Dad says there's not enough gas to take us out of the city. If traffic worsens during the rainy season, imagine how much worse it is with zombies roaming the streets. I wonder if he just doesn't know how to get out of the city. The only one of us who ever really knew her way around Manila was Mom. We ask Dad if he has a gun, and he throws up his hands and says, "Why would I have a gun!"
(The last we heard of Mom was a phone call to Dad, but he could barely make out anything she was saying. "Hello?" he kept saying. "What's all that noise in the background?" The call cut out, and when I asked him what Mom wanted, he gave me a confused look and said, "To lock the doors and windows, and stay inside.")
What would Sam Raimi do? All I know about zombies I learned from writing Merlin zombie crackfic, and maybe I shouldn't have spent all of 28 Days Later hiding behind a pillow and making undignified squeaky noises. If only I could go back and watch Resident Evil in greater detail, learning Milla Jovovich's ways... but it is too late for that.
We need to grab weapons and move upstairs. And food, grab food, gotta prepare. Are the doors locked? Good. You have to go for higher ground. Grab the vegetable oil, so we can have fire weapons. Dad finds a trash bag and we throw shit inside, and we hear screams coming from the house next door. I tell them we need to block the stairs, maybe shove some furniture down the stairwell. Chairs, desks, computers, my dad makes a sound of sorrow when we also toss the HDTV. Speakers, lamps, god what else.
I feel like a sitting duck here on the third floor, with our kitchenware-cum-weaponry and our instant noodles in a bag. What are we going to cook the noodles in anyway? I ask this, but no one wants to go back downstairs to get crockery. We'll figure something out, Dad says. We can just eat the ramen raw with the spices sprinkled on it, says my brother. Dad says, we could. When I ask if we're safe or cornered, no one meets my eye.
I'm making this LJ post while I still can. Who knows how long it'll be before the zombies destroy the provider and the electricity cuts out? I just want to say to everyone out there who is also fighting zombies and still checking their LJ that you are not alone. I am fighting zombies and checking my LJ along with you. Do not give up! Remember that the night is indeed darkest just before the dawn, and also to stay away from the windows. FIGHT ON.
I say we should move, but my brother says no, too many of our neighbors have been turned, it's too dangerous. We'll take the car, but Dad says there's not enough gas to take us out of the city. If traffic worsens during the rainy season, imagine how much worse it is with zombies roaming the streets. I wonder if he just doesn't know how to get out of the city. The only one of us who ever really knew her way around Manila was Mom. We ask Dad if he has a gun, and he throws up his hands and says, "Why would I have a gun!"
(The last we heard of Mom was a phone call to Dad, but he could barely make out anything she was saying. "Hello?" he kept saying. "What's all that noise in the background?" The call cut out, and when I asked him what Mom wanted, he gave me a confused look and said, "To lock the doors and windows, and stay inside.")
What would Sam Raimi do? All I know about zombies I learned from writing Merlin zombie crackfic, and maybe I shouldn't have spent all of 28 Days Later hiding behind a pillow and making undignified squeaky noises. If only I could go back and watch Resident Evil in greater detail, learning Milla Jovovich's ways... but it is too late for that.
We need to grab weapons and move upstairs. And food, grab food, gotta prepare. Are the doors locked? Good. You have to go for higher ground. Grab the vegetable oil, so we can have fire weapons. Dad finds a trash bag and we throw shit inside, and we hear screams coming from the house next door. I tell them we need to block the stairs, maybe shove some furniture down the stairwell. Chairs, desks, computers, my dad makes a sound of sorrow when we also toss the HDTV. Speakers, lamps, god what else.
I feel like a sitting duck here on the third floor, with our kitchenware-cum-weaponry and our instant noodles in a bag. What are we going to cook the noodles in anyway? I ask this, but no one wants to go back downstairs to get crockery. We'll figure something out, Dad says. We can just eat the ramen raw with the spices sprinkled on it, says my brother. Dad says, we could. When I ask if we're safe or cornered, no one meets my eye.
I'm making this LJ post while I still can. Who knows how long it'll be before the zombies destroy the provider and the electricity cuts out? I just want to say to everyone out there who is also fighting zombies and still checking their LJ that you are not alone. I am fighting zombies and checking my LJ along with you. Do not give up! Remember that the night is indeed darkest just before the dawn, and also to stay away from the windows. FIGHT ON.
