With the first draft of “My Zombie My” complete, I wanted to post the first of Bethany’s blog entries here so you can get a taste of what will become the second in the Zombie trilogy. Enjoy!
Blog Entry: 12/3/2015 11:49 PM
Paris, France. The city of lights. The city of love. The city that beckons every romantic soul to taste of its special flavor of life. When you dream of Paris, it is so easy to get lost in some romantic notion that some day you would arrive, sporting your best beret and black, and be swept off your feet by a soul-mate ready to spend the rest of forever locked in your love’s embrace.
We will always have Paris.
Or so we thought. That sickeningly sweet romantic dream was recently shot to Hell when Armageddon decided it was time to pull the trigger of the “fuck you” gun and blow the world’s collective brain matter across the painted sky. It wasn’t just the dream of Paris to be crushed. Every dream is now either dead or dying. The world, our world, is crumbling around us it’s people are evolving into monsters.
Unless you’ve been lucky enough to live hermetically sealed in a bomb shelter, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You may not yet know why this is happening, but you know without question that everything has changed. The food chain has a new member and the human race no longer perches atop. We are now the hunted and not the hunter.
If you have no idea what I’m talking about, or if you want to know the big “why”, I suggest you read the closest thing we have to a handbook for the Apocalypse. I am, of course, referring to the journal of the late Jacob Plummer. It’s called “I Zombie I”. You can download it from this very site. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend you do and do so right away. Read it very carefully…as if your very life depended on it. Why? Because it just may.
What happened to Jacob could (and most likely will) happen to anyone. My guess is that it might well happen to everyone eventually. A single bite from a moaner or screamer is a sure-fire, one-way ticket to zombieville.
That’s right. Zombies. The undead. Moaners and Screamers. Call them what you will, but they are the new majority leaders and they don’t want your vote. What they do want is your brain. And when they get to you, you’re dead. And by dead I mean undead. One of them. And if you’re one of them, you’re not one of us. If you’re not one of us, you’re the enemy and must be killed.
If you are bit the change could happen instantly or it could take weeks. But that trip to Zombieville will happen, on that you can count on. Trust me, you do not want to take that journey. I witnessed it first hand. I saw the man I loved fall down that rabbit hole and not return. It took Jacob a few weeks to go from human to brain-sucking-undead and you can not even fathom the pain he endured.
In the end, Jacob was a hero. He is the reason I made it out of Munich alive. But in the end…in the end it was me who shot him. It was the single worst thing I have ever done in my life. But I had to do it. I watched a man I made love with turn into a monster. And then…I put a bullet in his head. Had I not, I would now be suffering the same fate and only hope for the human race has of climbing out of this nightmare alive would be forever lost.
Thankfully I am not alone. I have in my care a young girl named Suzan who is somewhere around the age of ten. Just before I shot Jacob he infected Suzan. He wrapped his arm around the poor girl’s body and clamped his teeth onto her arm, biting through the flesh. As the blood pumped from her veins Jacob looked at me with sour-milk eyes (eyes that had once been so beautiful) and begged I take his life.
I’m not sure what to do with Suzan. The question “Should I put her out of her misery?” keeps popping into my head. Could you? Could you put a bullet between eyes of an innocent ten-year old girl? I can’t. The thought merely has to tickle my brain before I feel like retching. So instead I have Suzan sedated hoping it will buy me some time until I find a cure for the the plague that ripped humanity to shreds.
A cure…that’s right. In my possession is an encrypted file I hope will contain a cure for what I have dubbed the “Mengele Virus”. I believe, with every molecule in my brain, the world’s only hope rests in the contents of that file. My only hurdle is the encryption. I’m a hacker of certain repute and I have never seen crypto the likes of which is securing that data. Someone wanted to make sure whatever is hidden in the file remains hidden. But I will crack it. I have to. And when I do I am going to need help. A chemist, a biologist, a doctor…anyone who might know how to manipulate molecules and might want to help salvage the earth’s population. If that person is you, please reach me as soon as possible.
If you do decide to make that pilgrimage know this; the world has become a biological nightmare. You risk death (or worse) just by opening your door. If your heart still beats and you fear for your life, lock your doors and windows and hide deep within the bowels of your home. But if your life has become meaningless among the new world order, or if your only purpose is driven by an insane desire to help others, then please get here as quickly and quietly as you can. I need as much help as possible.
By the way…I’m in a hospital in Paris. The name is Val de-Grace. Right now I’m sitting on the roof hoping to hear the sounds of another human echoing off the stone walls of the neighboring buildings. It’s evening. The has has finally stopped falling so the sky is clear. I can see the stars. I never thought I would see them again and it is quite the lovely sight. One could be easily lulled into thinking everything was okay. I could step outside and enjoy my life again. Don’t be fooled. The minute you let your guard down a moaner or screamer will bite your face off and that’s it, lights out, you’re dead!
But at this very moment darkness has enveloped the city of lights, hiding from sight the gray blanket of ashen death that has covered the land. A soothing quiet has fallen peacefully onto the city that used to never sleep.
That was short lived. Every now and then a scream echos up from the streets below. But it’s hard to tell if the scream is human or zombie. That really sucks the desire to save right out of your marrow.
I suppose I should tuck myself deep within the heart of the hospital and get some sleep. Every day is long and challenging now, so rest is at a premium. The big downside of sleep is that the images of the horror I have seen will plague my dreams. I have seen the bullet push itself through the skin of Jacob’s forehead and crack through his skull in slow motion over and over. The haunting image of Dr. Lindsay Godwin shattering the bones in his hands in an attempt to break through inch-thick plexi, in order to get to the sweet meats in our heads, threatens my nightmares. Zombies eating zombies, zombies eating babies, blood, viscera…it’s all there, waiting for my eyelids to seal out the world and sleep to overcome my senses. But when when sleep does come it will be fitful at best.
I plan on documenting everything I see and do and posting it all here on my blog. Following in Jacob’s footsteps, I will use pen and paper as well as the digital recorder he left behind. Learn from my successes and mistakes so we can survive what could easily be the end of the human race.
Hopefully I will soon have a cure for this shit storm that has sucker-punched the planet. When I do, you will be the first to know.
My name is Bethany Nitshimi. I have information that could lead to the cure for the Mengele Virus. Find me. Help me.