Lifeless in Seattle
Notes: Perhaps intro is first wave, big surge of zombies; emphasis on final five surviving, but also preparing for such an attack, quick shot sequences, Costco, guns, ammo, supplies, etc. Then the body of the movie is these people surviving, camping, but in the urban environment that is the U district of Seattle. Important: take into account MASS of zombies, and incorporate a scene with the space needle in it.
The swine flu pandemic began in 2009. It is now early 2011 and the progression of the virus has become startling dangerous causing many individuals to become violent and even "zombie-like" as some analysts have jested. It seems the World Health Organization failed to foresee the possible mutations the virus was capable of. The worst cases of "zombies" have occurred in China and various eastern European countries where quarantine is failing at an alarming rate and whole villages have been eradicated by military actions razing and capturing if not killing zombified flu victims. The symptoms of the "Zombie Flu" as many have come to dub it, vary from individual to individual, but the most extreme cases are indeed of a most horrifying nature. Leading scientists in Germany and the United States have locked down a number of subjects in order to study their behaviors, their transformations. Most subjects with the severest conditions must be tied down, as they become highly aggressive, gnashing their teeth and flexing their fingers like claws. Perhaps the most startling, however, is the footage taken by various reporters and media groups based in Estonia and Lithuania, where video has captured scenes of cannibalism and mutilation in the most gruesome of ways. The worst videos were taken by independent sources and posted on the Internet. Some such videos reveal that a select few zombies were actually capable of basic motor skills and thought. These seemed to be professional athletes, and strangely enough, scientists. One video, taken through a Georgia man's living room window, shows students running for their lives out of Georgia Tech's campus followed shortly by a number of very nimble and well-coordinated lab coat-wearing zombies. One of them didn't seem hardly afflicted at all, however, and the ones that had lost their "human" sense closed in on him slowly, deliberately. One could see when the camera zoomed in, that those closing in on the poor soul were smirking and even laughing in a high-pitched hyena manner. The first one to reach the quivering man, who seemed as if he initially tried acting as one of the other infected, carefully removed the terrified man's goggles, and then glasses, at which point the rest fell upon him, clawing and scooping his eyeballs out to eat first spraying blood everywhere. The video stopped, perhaps so the cameraman could upload the horrifying scene. The military firebombed Atlanta the next day.
Indeed, flesh-eating zombies seemed to something of horror sci-fi flicks. Until now. Japan has taken action to close its borders entirely and suffer through the pandemic, eradicating any case that occurred with brutal force. Many nations have slaughtered and burned pigs to prevent outbreak, but now that the virus could be spread human to human, the threat was much greater. In some, the virus could lay dormant for a matter of months, until one day a child might wake up as a monster feeding on her parents' eyes and cheekbones for breakfast. In America, the west coast was not hit as bad as the more highly populated east, although it looked as if LA might fall as soon as 2012. Great Britain was making efforts to do the same as Japan, though violence seemed to be on the verge of uncontrollable in parts of Ireland and Scotland. Africa's death rate was skyrocketing, and the only bastions of hope seemed to lie in parts of South Africa and Kenya, though foreigners were doing everything in their power to evacuate. Or arm themselves. Latin America looked just as bad as China, and as there were few safe places to run, they were forced to fend for themselves, buying up guns, machetes. Those who could afford it were rigging the outsides of their walls with booby traps and flame spouting devices. People either flocked to military bases or islands within reach. Some believed colder extremes to be safer and less appealing to zombified people, yet there were reported cases as far south as Patagonia. It seemed almost as if mankind' tenure on earth may be coming to an end. Some scientists conjectured that Earth, a living thing itself, was rejecting the plague of humans that were poisoning her by extracting the black blood from deep within her skin and burning it to smoke her fragile lungs. This was not the wrath of God, it was the retaliation of a planet.
* * *
September 2011 - Seattle, WA USA
We all sit around the TV watching the latest news on the spreading zombie pandemic that continues to engulf the world. The virus is spreading much quicker than experts could have guessed and much of Asia and Eastern Europe lay in ruins and the only coverage of the area could be had from ariel shots. Fireballs fell from the sky at an almost daily basis as satellite operators no longer manned their posts. We used to joke about wishing one day something like this would happen so we could "mount up and kill some motherfucking zombies!" but in reality the whole thing was quite horrifying.
Much of the south from Florida to Arizona was Zombie Nation. All of the United States armed forces has returned from abroad to aid in the zombie pandemic at home. LA was taken back in a surge made possible by the US Military's efforts to wall most of the zombies out from Phoenix to Denver to Richmond, Virginia. It almost seemed as if the zombies knew Washington DC and LA to be hotspots primed for attack. The problem was that they didn't just rush in waiting to be gunned down or blown to shit by the minefields. Airstrikes were the most effective, but there were indications that the zombies were wise enough to hole up in buildings or forests. It didn't help that new cases were still popping up behind the wall in places that were "zombie safe" and the administration was struggling just to accommodate the rush of volunteers.
We had all bought guns back in July when it seemed inevitable LA would fall. My buddies and I mostly strapped Ak-47s bought at the local gun shop. I also carried a Desert Eagle with four extended clips on my back. I would have felt safer if we had some explosives, but I guess you can't have it all. There have only been a few outbreaks where people became badly zombified in our area, but starting last month we decided to take shifts at guard duty with one watching the front and one at back. We had stocked up on food months ago before even buying our guns, but we reckoned we were probably already half way through our rations. Only select local businesses were in operation as they had to hire guards for both human and zombie attackers, and the price for food was now only payable by silver, gold, or gems. Every now and then whoever was on duty would holler out to us from the roof that he had a "tango in sight" and that he was "about to light him up." We'd always get half excited and half jealous because that was the best part about guard duty. Sometimes the zombie would be a homeless person, malnourished, and weak. As such, they'd be much slower, and an easy shot, but every now and then there would be a runner. These were a mixed bag. We were encamped near the University of Washington campus and so were a bunch of other students. There were five of us in the house, but we were all clean because we made sure to quarantine ourselves early enough. Anyway, these runners were often students who were healthier (besides having Zombie Flu), and therefore quicker, and more aggressive. We always let the guard on duty (dubbed GOD) have the first few shots, but if he missed it was a free for all, and there stood four of us (couldn't let the GOD in back leave his post) sometimes just squeezing the lead out until our target was a mangled mess of spilled guts and chopped bones. "We really ought to think about conserving our ammo," I'd say every now and then. But sometimes these shootouts weren't all fun. Sometimes the zombie runners would be people we knew, and worse yet, zombified girls we knew from some nearby house. In these cases no one wanted to shoot. It was the GOD(s) duty to take them out. We hated watching this.
November
Things are getting worse as well as cold. Morale is slipping. By now our neighbors have enlisted us to guard their homes from the rooftops. We had gotten pretty good, and even had a few pairs of binoculars and radios so the guys on the highest rooftops could spot targets. I kept asking Andrew, our friend in the Army to get us some night vision goggles, but he was always too busy at the fort. We're still lucky that the city officials had made efforts to maintain power throughout Seattle. In fact just about all our utilities are in tact except of course for trash collection. Things are getting bad, though, I mean in our heads. I can tell hope is fading. This month alone we have seen more and more zombies, swarms of them in the streets. We've had to build a wall at the front of our porch from the floor to the roof. They can't climb, but they're not stupid.
By now we've seen enough of these bastards to know that they're not brain-dead. In fact, the only thing seemingly to work is their brain, for popping holes in everything form their liver to their hearts had no effect whatsoever. Take out the brain's functionality and they were neutralized. We sometimes said dead, despite the term being redundant. Some of them were actually awoken from being dead and crawled out of the ground, all partially decomposed and what not, but the worst was when they were someone who had died and woken up before being buried. They looked almost the same as regular people, just a little pale and sick looking. A lot of people were beginning to look like this from stress and bad diet, so it was hard to differentiate some white people from zombies. Andrew smuggled us a pair of infrared goggles so we could tell the cold dead ones from refugees.
Christmas
Some blocks to the south, the Greek community, were being overrun quite badly. Many shelters were abandoned, and we had taken in a girl our age who had nearly been eaten alive by a threesome of pretty big boys. Must have been athletes. She was a cute girl, one of those who could lose some weight, but had a pretty face nonetheless. Her name was Ashley. Jared fucked her the first night she stayed. We were all pussy hungry, and only had porno to keep us calm. That and booze and cigarettes. I was sitting on the roof with my ak across my lap as I listened to the methodic rhythm of humping. I smiled to myself, atta boy, Jare. She couldn't have been more dick hungry than were pussy hungry, but maybe. Who cared? Merry Christmas
I enjoy guard duty. Not for the reasons we used to a few months back. The fun wore off somewhat. I smile to myself ruefully, I enjoy playing GOD, I thought. I enjoy killing the dead, and when I'm not, I enjoy the peaceful quiet, especially when the sky is clear, which isn't often in Seattle. That Christmas night I sat there, watching the stars, keeping only my ear to the street, thinking to myself, What if Santa Claus landed right here, next to me. He'd give me a fancy scope for my rifle. One that had a night vision switch, that would be nice. I was envisioning myself lining up the sights to put a bullet into a zombies face when I heard a scream. Two in one day? No chance! But there she was, sprinting her dear life, form the other end of the street. "Charles! Infrared! Three O'clock!," I yelled. Charles hopped up from behind me, He'd been on guard watching the house's six, "One hot chick, two colds chasing her," He said calmly, cigarette down to the filter, still hanging off his lower lip. "I got the blonde one, you take the Asian," I said referring to the two zombie girls chasing their friend. Blam! Blam! Two shots, two kills. The girl running didn't stop until she heard us yelling at her. She had streaks of salt on her face from crying. She collapsed after looking behind her to see the two limp bodies no longer in chase. She no longer cried, but looked towards the sky for answer, almost deranged looking as I leapt from the roof and started towards her. "They were your friends," I said, not really expecting an answer because it wasn't really a question. She looked at me, emotionless, quiet. I yelled to Charles, "Get John to cover my shift. Good work."
Charles was a good man, a good friend, quiet, but professional, disciplined. Not that I gave orders, he probably already called John on the walkie, I just had to make sure for my own peace of mind. I slung my rifle around back and crouched down next to the brown-haired girl. She was pretty. I stood her up and hugged her, holding her warm body in my arms. Her shaking stopped eventually, and I separated, "what's your name?" I asked gently.
"Miranda."
"I'm Zeus."
"Thank you, Zeus," then she looked again at her dead friends, "I don't have anywhere to go now," she said.
We weren't in the position to take many refugees, mouths to feed. Tears flowed anew, leaping from her sad eyes. I hated watching girls cry. At least with a man I could have smacked upside the head, "Pull your shit together man!" I'd say.
"Come on. You can stay with us"
Miranda followed silently. Nero met us at the table, poured us each a glass of vodka. "Drink," I told her, "It'll make you feel better." She looked emptily at her glass. After a moment and an exchange of looks between Nero and myself, I grabbed her glass and put it to her mouth, "Drink," I said a little more sternly. She took a small sip, enough. I set the glass down, taking her chin in my hand, studying her face, looking for any scratches.
I'd found out the hard way that scratches from the fucking zombies were okay. I assumed bites or vomit from the things would be more fatal. The latest reports said that the virus was transmitted much the same way as the flu, so don't get spit or blood in the face. Simple enough.
I wet a bandana in some vodka and wiped the dried tears off her face as she looked at me. She looked into my eyes, studying me, wondering if she could trust me. "Smoke?" I asked, offering her a cigarette. She looked at the cancer sticks in my hand, "Those things'll kill you, you know." I chuckled as Nero and I lit up.
"You should get some sleep. Upstairs, Nero would you show her a bed?" I asked, leaving it up to him to put her in any vacant bed, then thought twice, "put in her mine, would you? I'll relieve Charles topside," and then to Miranda, "we'll talk tomorrow." I could tell she was exhausted. She looked pale, as she hadn't slept in days, probably hadn't. I made a pot of coffee, brought a cup to John, and told Charles to hit the hay.
The winter nights in Seattle were awfully long. John and I were lucky to have headset walkies. We tried chatting to each other to stay awake, and it usually worked. But it must have been around seven in that morning when I was sitting against the chimney there, cozy in my down jacket, hat pulled down over my ears.
I was in my bed, sleeping, when Miranda , looking like sex, smelling like sex, crept in. She woke me up with a bit of handiwork jerking my cock awake too. I smiled dimly at her, as if I'd expected a visit. She kissed me on the lips as she climbed on top of me, sliding my rigid cock into her. She bounced up and down for a bit, and when she leaned back down for a kiss I put my arms around her and barrel rolled to flip on top of her. Slamming her on my bed made her pant and moan like an animal in ecstasy. I flipped her over keeping my dick in there to hit it doggy. She was saying my name, "Oh Zeus! Right there, right fucking there, don't stop." We were both panting, sweating, despite the cold night air. She reached back to fondle my balls, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair to really fuck her, rubbing her clit with my other hand, making it hot and wet. Just as I was about to explode she tightened her grip on my balls. I slowed down, she gripped harder, I was in pain. What the fuck? "Harder!" She said, but I was in too much pain. I pulled her hair, "What the fuck's wrong with you?" I said, shaking her head, trying to loose her grip with my other hand. I couldn't. Her head turned to face mine. Her teeth were broken, blood oozing from all over, her eyes were dead. She turned and lifted one leg past my head, and then gnashed her teeth maniacally. She screamed and ripped my balls right of pulling all sorts of tubes and fluids out as I screamed for dear god. I stood there horrified as she began eating my ripped testicles.
"Zeus. Come in Zeus. Mother fuck." I loud gunshot awoke me from my nightmare. John was standing over me with his gun still smoking, dawn approached. John stood there glaring at me, he didn't need to say anything, I knew I fucked up. I never fucked up like that before. What in the world was that? I wondered. I knew John wouldn't say anything to the other guys. It would just cause unneeded drama and bickering. Of course, it helped that I had also saved his life the week before.
We had been returning from an exploration/scavanging trip a few blocks from our house. We had to check the Greek area for survivors or zombies. There were none of the former, and fifteen of the latter. We had killed fourteen when one came leaping out of a second story window, through the glass and on to John's back. He kind of struggled with it, almost threw the thing off, but it held on to his pant leg. It was about to sink it's dirty teeth into his calf when i kicked its head away with my heavy steel toe. It rolled towards a curb and made to get back up, eyes lifeless, but brows pointed down as if angry. I kicked it back down in the ribs. I knew I wasn't hurting the thing.
"Little pissed off there, you fucking twat?" I yelled, "Who gave you the idea it was okay to jump my friend? Now you've really fucked up."
And at that I grabbed the fiend by his hair and crashed his mouth onto the edge of the curb breaking teeth in the process, "How's that taste, cunt?" I stepped onto his back as he struggled, moaning and spitting. John watched as I used my other foot to stomp the zombie's upper half of head down, shattering the life out of it.
I turned to John, "you okay, bro?"
"Fucking thing scratched my neck, think I'll be okay?"
Up till then I didn't know if scratches would turn a person. None of us knew, so I replied, half jokingly, "Might be okay. I'd hate to have to put you down." John didn't think it was funny, but didn't say anything. He knew that once he even got flu symptoms he'd shoot himself in the head, probably to all our protests. Who knew? Luckily he was fine, albeit pissed off that 12 GOD had fallen asleep.
"Come on, let's go inside, get Nero and Jared up here."
Back inside Miranda was still asleep so I plopped down on the couch in front of the TV. Broadcasts were only every week or so forcing us to keep it on around the clock. We tried to have the one guy not sleeping or on guard duty watch for news. I didn't know where Alex was, maybe in the kitchen. I stared at the blue screen waiting for people to appear. My eyelids drooped heavily. I could smell corned hash cooking. My mouth watered, but sleep overtook my appetite.
On the television some talk show host was interviewing a comedian. Or at least I thought he was a comedian. Maybe he was a rock star. He had a British accent. Or was it Australian? They were talking about zombies and all kinds of other stuff. The host asked his guest how he liked the zombies, did he enjoy killing them from his rooftops? Yeah yeah, that's all swell and everything, "I just wish there were like some vampires, you know? To like, go along with the zombies. Vamp's are are totally sexy. I'd like to [Bleep] a vampiress for sure!" The host chuckled, the guest continued, "If you [Bleep] a zombie though, that's just to'ally sick, you know? People'd call you a necrophilia - And the program was interrupted by a breaking news story, Brian Williams was reporting from god knows where: "President Obama has made the decision to arm the nations nuclear missiles and detonate them in America's largest cities. The outbreak has consumed too many, if you're still in any of the following cities, evacuate effective immediately." And a rolling list of cities went up. It was in alphabetical order. San Antonio was just appearing when I woke up.
Miranda was nudging me. She had a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me. Maybe I could get used to this, I thought. "Good morning, what time is it?" I asked her. "It's only ten. John and your other friend are sleeping upstairs." There weren't many doors left on their usual hinges because we used them to board up some windows.
"So," I said to Miranda, "Tell me -" A short burst of fire from the roof - pop! pop! Over the radio Charles, "Two tangos down." And then Nero solemnly, "Mother and daughter. Cold on the IR."
"Copy," I replied, setting the walkie down.
"Where were we? Were we anywhere?" I asked Miranda. Before she could reply Ashley came down, rubbing sleep from her eyes, looking rather happy in one of Jared's flannels. She also had on some of his sweat pants. What a turn off. She helped herself to a cup of coffee, "You guys have any -"
"In the cupboard to the left there," I said before she could ask where sugar and creamer were.
I waited for her to sit down with the two of us, "So, ladies, two of you in one day, that's really something. I take it your friends and family are either gone or too difficult to reach. So. We will take care of you two for the time being. I don't know how much longer we can or should continue living like this. There will come a time when we have to leave, let's hope it's not because we've run out of supplies. Questions?"
Ashley spoke first, "Can we have guns?"
"If we had any more, yes, but as of now, we'll show you how to use them, but you don't get to carry any. Oh, and any sexism aside, you'll both have to cook and clean."
Miranda smiled at this, I'd have to keep my eye on her. On both of them. "Let's go up to the roof, meet the other boys," I said, leading up.
"Miranda this is Jared. Ashley, you've met Jared," I joked, making her blush a little, "and this is Charles, ladies. We're all gentlemen, at least so far, and we run a tight ship."
We went back down to find Alex awake downstairs. After introductions with him, Alex showed them the pantry and all that business. I told him to get the fuck upstairs to relieve Charles on the roof.
We used to smoke pot before the zombies came around. All we had now were booze and cigarettes. We wouldn't fight over pussy, we were too close for bullshit like that. The five of us were like brothers. We'd die for each other. Well except for one. There's always one asshole in a zombie fighting group. His name was Alex, he was Italian. He was overweight, and right there, if someone wasn't quite fit enough, he was seen as weaker, unable to fulfill duties to a certain standard. We gave him shit regularly, but never in an offensive manner. He wasn't such a cocksucker that he was unbearable, after all no one really paid attention to his opinions.
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