Thursday, October 28, 2010

Part 15

It seems I haven't done this in awhile, too much has been happening to occupy my attention of late. The other night though I was lying in bed in a half daze, somewhere between sleep and consciousness when words began to form in my head. Well the next morning I wrote them down, and while I was at it put to paper, so to speak, the intro to another story that has been rattling around for some time.
I would like for those who read this regularly to let me know which of these ideas is worth pursuing. Which you would prefer to see in a longer format. I don't know where either is going, but that's part of the fun. It could, of course, be that neither is worth a shit. This is why I want you to be my editors, share your thoughts candidly. If you give me a rejection notice, so be it, my feelings won't be hurt. What follows were written hastily while the words were still fresh, with no thought to title. So I will simply call them.........


Millikan had brutish piggy eyes, and a general lack of insight on his countenance. He had a couple of tattoos to compliment his brush cut, one on his left forearm of Little Lulu, and one of Tubby on the right. I’d asked him about his tattoos once, he mumbled something about, “the best thing he’d ever read”. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I thought that Tubby would grow up to be a doughy milquetoast and probable closet pedophile, and Lulu a homely housewife with passable cooking skills and an abusive husband who would bear children grudgingly and be repelled when accepting the seed. I knew Millikan would be looking for me, but he hadn’t seen me yet. I reached into my duffel bag, grabbed a roll of duct tape, and started tearing off two inch strips. I placed the strips on the heel of my right hand, one strip atop another. I kept tearing and adding strips, watching him. The myth is that you can drive a man’s nose into his brain given sufficient force. This is ludicrous since the structure of the nose is comprised of cartilage not bone. A more effective method is to drive the teeth in the upper front jaw up and through the gums. There are thousands of nerve endings in the olfactory region that will instantly immobilize a person with sheer agony, and cause their eyes to water hampering vision. The disadvantage to this method is the person inflicting the damage also runs a high risk of self injury to the heel of his striking hand from the teeth, thus the duct tape………..


Before I was even fully conscious, before I even bothered to open my eyes, there it was the stench. That fucking stink that had been my only companion these last months, growing perceptively stronger every day. I don’t know what the ratio would be, but I figure the actual number of walking dead grow only to a certain point. The more their numbers grow the less the numbers of their food source, and when they happen upon a living person they descend en masse leaving very little carcass to actually get up to walk around.
I rolled over, flipped back the curtain, to see that not much had changed. The alley and street seem deserted, you could go for hours sometimes and not see one of the fuckers shambling by, other times there are dozens. Hey Calgary is a large City. I’ve had it pretty good since this whole thing started. My house is a two storey that no longer has a front deck or stairs, an enclosed back deck, again no stairs, and a fenced in side yard with access to the garage for my getaway. The stairs were the first thing I took care of on Z day, it took a lot of effort to sledge hammer the deck down. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, the road that runs in front of my home packed with cars trying to leave the City, horns blaring, screams echoing. I was relieved when the deed was done and I locked my front door behind me. Over the next few days I reinforced my fences, took down the back stairs, hauled my ladder in the house, and started moving provisions to the upper level. There was still electricity and running water then, I constantly monitored the TV and radio broadcasts that were still available as I took everything I thought I’d need upstairs in case they somehow managed to get in. When I felt secure I once more employed the sledge hammer to remove the staircase to the upper level, from then on I’ve used the ladder.
That was two months ago. Now the power is out, sometimes the water runs a little though I don’t trust it, and have no way to boil it. I’m saving the wood I have for the fire place for heat when the cold weather arrives. I should have enough water to last until winter if I am disciplined with my rationing. I can’t even sponge bath anymore though my body odour is barely noticeable over the ever present stench. You see there are the walking dead, and the non walking dead, but there are also the contents of the bucket. I refer to my piss and shit bucket. The problem is when you empty it out a window or outside the door it really begins to pile up after a few months. Now take these aromas and add the fact that it is the middle of the hottest summer that I’ve seen in these parts in decades, where I’d normally be enjoying my central air, and you’ll understand why I’m on olfactory overload.
So now I wait. I pace from room to room and gaze out the windows most of the day. I play entire CDs in my head. I miss music, I miss TV, and I miss the internet. I’d give anything for a generator, but will not take the risk…..yet. Not many people who are left are trying anything according to what I can see from the windows of my world. I’ve tried yelling from the front door at times, but no one answers. I haven’t even seen an R.C.Z.P. vehicle in two weeks. The Royal Canadian Zombie Police were the government’s answer to helping the military quell this. Didn’t seem to work, most of them are probably in fucking Toronto anyway.
I will continue to wait, keeping my fingers crossed for a harsh winter. The way I see it if exposed skin freezes at – 30 C from only a few minutes of exposure, and you freeze to death in give or take an hour, then the fucking zombies would have to freeze solid. Then I can finally make my break. I mean they would have to freeze solid...They have to fucking freeze solid, DON'T THEY ???

Well, there you have them, story two is an offshoot of a novel I started writing twelve years ago entitled, "Royal Canadian Zombie Police". I had a hard drive crash and the 200 odd pages were lost forever, teaching me a very important lesson about backing up important files. I also pitched the idea to a television production company head five years later for a pilot. I think it was ahead of its time, who wanted to watch a TV series about zombies ?
The only other thing I wanted to say this time around is in regards to Ann Coulter's recent visit to our fair City. The only way I would pay to see Ann or support her in any way is if a video was released entitled, "Anne Coulter Gets Repeatedly Mouth Fucked By Black Monster Cocks". There I said it, and it's my right to do so. CIAO till next time kids.......

-James Saito