Get Off My L@wn - A Zombie Novel Read Online Free Page A

by one. It was irritating when an adult face stared at us
as they drove past. The adult faces read, “You assholes think you’re so smart,
don’t you.” It was heartbreaking however, when the face peered out of the car
window belonged to a child. The children’s faces read fear, confusion and
sadness.

 
    B y Tuesday (Day 13), events finally overwhelmed
the legal debate freeing the Federal government to act. And act decisively they
did: to quarantine.
    Quarantine was predicted to be the opposite of
the right course of action by Munz et al. In actuality, it ensured a steady
supply of prey to the predators, much like misguided zoning laws aimed at
increasing diversity. Quarantine doomed urban survivors to virtually certain death,
as hordes grew in size with every passing minute.
    Troops manned makeshift fortified lines
surrounding major population centers. It was a hopeless waste of time,
resources and the precious treasure of human life. One look at the Shenzhen
footage should have convinced everyone that short defensive lines keeping them
out would be better than long thinly stretched lines trying to keep them in.
    Almost two weeks after TMZ broadcast the first
zombie attack and two days since the declaration of martial law in the state
the most amazing and unexpected thing happened. A UPS truck pulled up to the
house and delivered some of the items I had ordered on Friday! The driver had a
real sense of humor. He laughed maniacally when he told us we were his last
delivery. I was glad when he left. He was scary.

 
    W ednesday (Day 14), brought several more changes.
I noticed the news items on the major sites were not being updated as
frequently as they had been. CNN’s web site was the most sporadic.
    Their broadcast news showed the Atlanta streets
around CNN Center teeming with moving corpses. Wolf Blitzer was not on the air
any longer. Instead, someone much younger I had never seen before was on
standing in what looked like a stairwell.
    “The dead have crashed through all the glass at
street level. The elevators have been disabled for our security and the lower
level stairwells have been blocked with whatever people can find.”
    The camera tilted downward. While there wasn’t
anything but the next landing to see there was a terrific pounding booming up
from below.
    “The sounds you are hearing are the dead. They
are beating against the elevator and stairwell doors. They don’t stop. No one
here expects the doors to last indefinitely. We have CNN security and Atlanta
PD here with us but we just showed you the crush outside. If they beat down the
doors there isn’t anything we’ll be able to do to stop them.”
    The camera was back on the newcomer. Camera and
reporter moved out of the stairwell into a floor of cubicles.
    “And even if the doors hold, you can see we’re
not exactly equipped for a siege. When the emergency supplies are exhausted and
the vending machine food is gone, we know we are going to starve. Water
pressure here in CNN Center has been fluctuating. There’s a chance we will run
out of water before we run out of food.”
    The camera centered on the kid’s face. Its youth
was gone. His eyes were wet, tired, red and puffy. He had several days of
stubble that would have been considered a risky career move before all this. He
said nothing for a bit. Then he began shaking his head. The camera pulled back.
The kid was looking away from the camera and waving his hand to shut down.
    “Bob, that’s it. I can’t do this anymore. Go
find Deborah. I can’t do this” An infographic replaced the kid.
    I had to think that an organization like CNN
would keep things together better than the kid was making it out to be. There
must be a helipad on their building, right? There is no way an organization
like that would let their people die, trapped in their own headquarters. But
that is what happened.
    I do not know what became of the kid. I haven’t
seen him since broadcasts resumed. His report was