Home Is Where The Heart Is

It's winter, everybody's favorite season now. Sipping Mai Tai's on sandy beaches is a thing of the past. My family and I have made this our home, temporarily.

The ground floor is completely boarded up. I'm thankful that the previous tenants did this. We found a ladder lying on the ground below the opening in the top floor porch railing. Luckily, Zombies can't think or use ladders.

One of us checked the top floor, making sure it was clear of unwanted guests. Then we all climbed up, pulled the ladder up and enjoyed a semi-comfortable sleep. Upon further inspection we found a pantry packed with non-perishable food, bottled water an even some booze. Five cases of Bacardi 151, either somebody was going to kill themselves with alcohol poisoning or these had been stashed to use as weapons or fuel. After all, Bacardi 151 is highly flammable.

Since we have food, shelter and fuel for small fires in the fireplace we are going to camp here for a while. The downstairs portion of the house is completely inaccessible. The stairs have been "removed" for lack of a better description. I thought I heard some scratching noises from downstairs the other day but since I haven't heard anything since I'm not too worried. It's nice having a "home" again. A semblance of normal life.

One thing that always worries me a little is the crawl space under the house. So far nothing has popped out from under there but I always think about it... I have seen a few shambling Zombies from the porch. Zombies don't move with intent unless they sense food is near. There is one Zombie across the street that appears to be frozen in front of a mailbox. As though she has just ran out the house to grab the holiday cards from grandma. It's starting to get dark, I'm going to go prepare the stuff for the fire and dinner. I only make fires at night when the smoke is less visible. Night Night...

Pack Light and Keep Moving

These people are walking during the day. Zombies don't seem to enjoy sunlight. This could be because sunlight helps to advance decomposition. Which seems to be the only thing on our side in the battle against the undead. Well, that and a machete...

Let's talk about his scene for a moment. I like that this small group has chosen to move be foot and walk in the middle of the street instead of next to houses on the sidewalk. Leaving more options of escape. I don't agree with their "bags" or the size of their bags. Plastic bags cause a lot of noise and can break easily and these people have their bags over packed. One woman is carrying a plant that isn't even edible! This is ridiculous. The Zombie apocalypse is not a time to get sentimental and start carrying around knick-knacks and family heir looms.

Survival tools, food, dry clothing, weapons and a hose to sifen gas would be at the top of my packing list. I would pack everything in a backpack so that my hands are free to climb, battle or do anything else in a hurry. Obviously, if I didn't have a backpack I would still choose something sturdier than plastic until I could find what I needed.

On foot- granted you can't cover as much ground as in a vehicle, you will attract less attention. What good is going 60 miles in an hour if you have attracted the attention of every zombie along the way. These relentless killing machines who are now locked on going in your direction until they can taste your brains? What happens when your gas tank hits empty at a very bad time?

A Polluted World

Could the pollution we cause be a potential reason for the Zombie War to come?

I took this picture while driving through New jersey. Pink Smoke! This has to be toxic. Who knows how much junk is really pumped into the air every minute of everyday? Just because smoke goes up and vanishes doesn't mean that it's gone.

This pink smoke is probably being inhaled by some poor child in India. Next thing you know that child gets a fever and a ravenous appetite. His mother tries her best to comfort him until his heart stops. She sits on the ground cradling her dead child, crying. Moments later his body begins to stir. This grieving mother holds her child in front of her, momentarily happy, thinking her prayers have been answered. The young child grabs his mothers face and sinks his teeth into her right cheek and lower lip ripping the flesh from her face.

The small cotton farming town in which they live has seen numerous suicides as of late due to the use of cotton seeds provided by Monsanto. There aren't enough men in this village to help battle this new threat, Zombies. Zombie women and children overrun the town and spread out in the search for live flesh and brains.

This is just one way the end might begin and nobody would be able to trace it back to this pink smoke streaming into our air from a smoke stack in New jersey. Of course, this pink smoke alone might not do it. But this combined with other pollutants...who knows?