Godgiven

God-given her with her God-given eyes.

She was a gift from God himself, though not a present. Finely put by my side by what I would call chance, if there's such thing at all.
Her eyes seemed to absorb all the leaking life the crowds were losing.

Ah!

Her eyes were a lighthouse I found during a sea storm. They shone among the dead ones of thousands as I struggled, during that night storm in a sea of bodies.
She wasn't afraid.
I trembled. I stuttered. I became speechless. I said:
-You.
She answered:
-Yes.

Either she came to me or she attracted the whole universe towards herself, she stopped me, frozen, neutralized, with that look in her eyes.

Ah!

You. Godgiven, with your God-given smile. You couldn't do better. For once I was bitten!
You knew how to turn my heart on, as you knew how to put it to sleep.
And you did it. So well. Hell, the ways in which you did it.

In this afterlight I thank you. For putting it to sleep.
Because you did it before you left forever. Wasn't that clairvoyance? Wasn't that a gift from God to you? His present.

Ah!

God knows that it's not colder he who never felt the warmth on his skin, but he who got burnt and left alone to heal his wounds on the snow.
When his wounds can heal.
When they aren't fatal.
Like yours, God-given.

No W

-Take me to The Box!- said Mr. W.
-J! take me to the fucking Box now!-
He was bitten.
-Take me there before anyone finds it out, before they start talking about me and planning when and how they'll have to kill me. Now!.-
-But W...-
-There's no time to talk, take me there, lock me in and throw the key.-
-I can't do that and you know it... but what we can do is to get the hell away from here.-
-A last party together.-
-A trip into insanity.-
-Madness.-
-Are you sure you will handle it?-
-Don't talk to me like I was completely screwed. I'm not that screwed. Not yet! And for the time we still got left to work hand in hand you better treat me like I'm still a human being. Don't be afraid of me, but don't be afraid of putting me to sleep either. Whenever the damn time comes.-
-Because the time will come.-
-The time always comes.-
Always.

The Box

They move like fish inside The Box, like piranhas.
You can see them calm, moving in circles or getting closer to the walls for some reason, waiting for something to happen.
They'll get nervous if they hear you or smell something like human or alive.

The reason why we don't kill them is because I wanna study them. I wanna know what they are, how they behave.

The box is a small room we built with wood pannels, bricks and some double windows we found in other buildings. We decided to build it one night while we were scouting on the roofs.
Someone decided it'd be more human if we just moved indefinitely into that room as soon as we were bitten.
I mean, imagine a zomb bites you. You're fucked up.
But you don't wanna die right away. What if there's a cure? you wanna wait for it!
If I have to be sincere, I think there's no cure at all, according to my experience, but you can consider this thing as a last wish for a good pal. So we went on with the idea.

We built the room but we found a loophole.
We knew how it worked and so we knew how to get out of it. Which means it wouldn't be safe for the healthy ones in case we were kept inside the thing.
And we didn't realize that until the first guy was bitten and thrown into The Box. When he made his way out of it and scared the shit out of us the same night.

Now I'm here, with two zombs walking in circles inside the room, imagining how it would be if they knew how easy it is to get out of The Box.
If you think "out of the box", it's the easiest thing ever. Even a kid would do it. But at the other side of the door it doesn't seem so easy to get away.
Again, they're like fish swimming in circles, ignoring the huge world out of the cage and how simple it'd be to leave it.
I just can't stop thinking of it...

Then I look at the door behind me and I wonder if I'm not in the same situation.
Maybe there's a way out of "here".
Maybe it's as simple as theirs.
But where to? how to? what is that "out of here" supposed to be? what is "here"?

I will never find it out
Just as they will always be in The Box.

The lost weekend

It was really long since I saw such a big city in a complete silence for so long.
In a way, it looked like Madrid in the middle of August. Even though at moments it was more like Preciados the day before Christmas.

I used to stop everytime I saw a zomb unable to move but still "alive". I would get closer enough to study its reactions, but not enough to get chewed.
Sometimes they still had a glimpse of life in their eyes.
This rug-face had it and I couldn't help it but talk to it.
-Do you understand me?-

-[...]-

He would look at me like a dog.

-Trying to talk to a zombie?- said Mr.W. -that's like giving a corpse some pills. They only understand one sound...-
-Don't! not this one. Let me check it a bit longer.-
-The only difference between a herd of sheeps and zombies is that zombs are not afraid of anything anymore and they'll do what they may to achieve what they want.-
-Yeah, and so, if you think of it philosophically, would that make them free individuals?-
-Are you suggesting they have free will?-
-Nah, I don't think so, but nor we do. There's no such thing as free will.-
-And you know that because you're Kant.-
-Look. No matter how complex our goals or our ways are, no matter how ununderstandable for us they are, there's no such thing as free will. That's only more of our lack of knowledge speaking. They're just like members of a freethinker-hunting club.-
-And even you think all that, you still get closer to that shit and give him some more seconds of "life".-

-[...]-

-It's asking for it. Just kill it for god sake!-
I looked at the zomb and asked him if it wanted us to chop its head off or if it'd instead prefer to stay there indefinitely.
He was silent for a second. He was thinking.
He was fucking thinking.
And he shouted like he understood its fate.
Mr.W. did it. As clean as always.
-Talk about free will...- he said.
-You just can't get it. None of us is free. None of us will ever be free.-

There's no such thing as freedom.

I forgot more than you'll ever know

Dead diary:

This shit has no cure.
You can try to prevent it, but you can't cure it.
You can even look at the Death in the eyes and smile. Take the risk if you want, but if you screw up, it's over for you.

The good thing is... most people can't survive the process. They simply die because it's too fucking much for them.
Their bodies can't resist it.
It is too much.

But dead is dead.
So if they can't move, cheers. One rug-face less to worry about.

Just keep it in mind. After one of them bites you, you don't have lots of options.
Amputation. A fast one. That can do the job.

I remember the case of a child. He was biten in the hand and the father didn't think of it twice. That guy chopped his arm at the elbow right there. The scene was a fucking mess and we got crazy with the splatters.
But the kid survived.

So if you don't wanna become one of those or simply die... you better have some cold blood.

Godspeed.

Me.

The Hitchhicker's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse: Part I

Forget everything you thought you knew about the topic. Zombies are not the way you always thought they were.
Yeah, they're dead, they stink and they wanna sink their teeth on your skin like hungry bitches. But they're not just a bunch of clueless walkers.

When they're alone, they're just dumb. They don't think, they can't do anything a normal person could do. Crafting tools? Nah... and even ravens do that!
But be careful when the flock is big, because then they will behave like an intelligent network, in which they work as a neuronal tissue. And run for your life when one of those neurons catches a signal, because it's fastly transmitted to everyone else in some ways I still can't understand.

It's like they had a wi-fi. Like each one of them had some small differences in their physical structures, and once the stimulus is made it starts propagating at the speed of light.
As I said, isolated they're nothing, but together they can be pretty tough.

Thinking of it better... I'm not quite sure if they're dead or just close to pass away.
However, I'm not gonna check their constants. I'm the one making sure they stop, so thank you very much! but if you wanna know about it, find it out yourself.

Why am I questioning my previous beliefs?

Gentleman's agreement

-History- I said, -history can only be written by free men-
The history we had to learn from books about kings and presidents, about wars and dictatorships, popes and boundaries, is nothing but antihuman bullshit. They would tell us how it was written with the sweat and blood of our ancestors, but we only memorize the name of the opressors.
You can't write history with blood. But with ink.
And you can only use that ink when you're educated.
When you're free.

Now we're here, in this so called secured building, trying to survive while we know, and we're more than sure, that there's people like us, alive, somewhere in this city. And we do what we can to rescue them, as this group has done with most of us since the beginning of the end.

But there's a second kind of people out there. People who won't need our help! People who will try to hunt us down. And they will choose to do so even if they have to decide between us and a rug-face.
For that people we have a different approach.
For them we have the knives, the guns and the rage.
Because we're free. And the freedom that was taken away from us will return to us.
So we will go on shooting until we waste the last bullet and we will fight until we can't move no more. For this is the time to write history.
For real.
For once.

And so I made you all come here tonight so we can make an agreement to modify our procedures.

We all know they can eradicate the rug-faces, but they don't.
Because they're using them as a political tool. They're using them to keep everyone else busy. Concerned.Scared.

And the scared people won't think. They won't realize. They will only tremble and shout and suffer nightmares that will only take them all towards slavery.
May I say that if we wipe them away, those terrified ones will do their best to kill us aswell, because we erased their only, but apparent, way to survive.

...

They know we know.
We know they do.

It begins tonight.