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.

From here to eternity

Dead diary:

Sometimes, specially when I feel alone, I think of something.
I never told anyone, just you.

Sometimes I think of how great it'd be to fit again in the crowd, if I ever did it at all.
I always felt appart from the group, like I belonged somewhere else, like I wasn't a member of that mass. Now that mass is totally something else, something united. They're together like we the living will never be. And that makes me wonder.

You only need a simple and small baptism to become one of them.
Let them eat from your flesh and drink from your blood.
And you'll be one more for the herd.

But the moral implications will never let me do it, because it'd go against my human nature.
Because I should be fighting for the greater good, for the prosperity of humanity and not for the strenght of the sick flock that wants the good people down.

I will do what I must as long as I can.
For the people who are still alive.

Godspeed.

Me.

Station to station

-No matter how much you think you've seen- said Mr.W, -you haven't seen enough.
I'm telling you.

The first time I saw a rug-face bite someone I couldn't believe my eyes. I was in the metro, sitting down looking at a silent gorgeous girl in front of me, when out of nowehere this bastard jumped on that old lady and nailed his teeth on her neck like a streetpreacher on a lamb-hunt.
Right now I'd say "I bet that fucker didn't have a ticket!" and I'd rise my beer na zdrowie for the joke. But back then, oh god, I threw up. Big time!

You can't think. You can't react. You just see blood here and there and hear people shouting and shit.
And if you don't react, then you're next.

I reacted.
I took that gorgeous girl's hand and ran the fuck out of there. The doors closed and the train went away.
I helped the girl sit down on a bench right there and tried to check if she was okay.
Man, sure she wasn't! she was bitten!
She was suffering the process. How you call it!- asked Mr.W.
-Metamorphosis- said I.
-That shit! whatever! she was on it. And she was looking at me like I was a piece of meal, dude. Like, you know, I'd have loved that look five mins before, but not with such teeth mark on her skin.
Fuck me twice! I scaped that dookyface and now this.
In my point of view I had to react and kill that bitch before she killed me, but in the eyes of everyone else I'd be a psycho killer.

The eternal shit in the beginning of a Zombie Apocalypse. How will my behaviour affect in the public opinion?

My reaction?
I pushed her to the tracks. The metro came and her story was over- he laughed.
-But not mine! at all! this couple wearing like policemen started talking on the walkie-talkies and ran after me. I scaped as I could...

I was in Pole Mokotowskie, it was dark and cold, I was covered on grandma's blood and God knows how I made it to this place.

And dude!- he goes, -dude! I still wonder... how the hell did they do it to the metro? unseen!?

No country for cold men

You always wished there would be a zombie apocalypse. Living on your own. Gathering your own food, keeping yourself alive. Surviving.

What you never thought of is that those out there were humans like yourself. And for ages you kept wishing they were dead. Although not only dead.
Dead but able to run and kill so you can shred them appart.
So you can destroy them.

Every single time you heard this world would be filled by the living dead whenever Hell was full you felt like it was all bullshit. As there's no Heaven. And there's no Hell.
What's there is an unnatural world where we force ourselves to become machines. Our own slaves.
And we decided to forget who we were and what our natural state was (and still is).
We're not machines. We're hunters and gatherers. We're foragers.
And when the interests of the few make the hoi polloi become a brainless mass, then we, the passive thinkers, begin wishing.
And the crowd becomes our enemy, as we become their main target.

That's why you always wished the apocalypse came. And now it's here.
And now it's your turn.

Time for those whose hearts still pump blood.

Now you move.