Erik and Jaimy have a relationship that’s filled with love and commitment. There’s just one problem… she wants to eat him. He works hard to keep her grounded in the world of the living, but Amanda, Jaimy’s best friend, wants her to embrace all aspects of being undead, including munching on Erik, buffet-style. Erik knows that he’s fighting an impossible battle, but he’s become a zombie in many ways himself. When he’s left vulnerable, will Jaimy’s love save him or will she embrace her true nature and destroy him?
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But I Do Love You For Your Brain (A Zombie Love Story) by Jessica Capelle
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“I have to put my foot down, Jaimy. I mean it.” “Mmmmm… foot. Jaimy like foot.” She grins, and her jaw sags. It makes her look like the Joker. Good thing I like Batman. “Focus, sweetie. I’m serious. Amanda can’t come over if she’s going to attack me. Don’t you understand how that makes me feel?” “But foot good. Jaimy hungry.” “Enough with the foot!” I yell. Jaimy’s bottom lip drops below her chin, the zombie version of a pout. “I’m sorry, honey,” I sigh. “Let’s just finish the movie, okay?” She snuggles up to me and digs her head into my neck. The familiar smell of mold mixed with coconut shampoo clings to her limp, matted hair. No matter how often she showers, the mildew smell lingers. I’ve come to love that smell. I never planned to have a member of the undead as my girlfriend. My opinion of zombies had always been they were disgusting, unnatural creatures. Hell, they only existed in bad horror films until two years ago. No one’s sure how it started, but the current ratio of undead to “stays dead” is about even. After the initial panic, the government held mandatory classes on how to deal with zombies. Unlike the film versions, our zombies behaved pretty much like when they were alive. Once you got past their steep decline in I.Q. and their cravings for human flesh, you could almost forget what they were. Congress fast-tracked legislation to make it a crime to kill a zombie unless you were under attack. Zombie rights groups formed soon after, and the push for integration led to hate-crime legislation. The compromise was the installation of “big brother” cameras on every corner. With the cameras, you could prove you only acted to save yourself. Zombie hate crimes are pretty rare now, although I suspect that’s because many people provoke zombies into coming after them. Jaimy will graduate from King High this year, unless there’s another unfortunate incident with a teacher. But it’s really not her fault. Amanda is to blame for Jaimy’s slip-ups. She always tries to get Jaimy to eat people and destroy things. Just because they’re zombies doesn’t mean they can’t be civilized, but Amanda has completely embraced her inner zombie.
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To read more, and find out what happens to Erik and Jaimy, check out Undead Is Not An Option.
There are very few moments where yours truly is struck speechless. This week’s episode of The Walking Dead ended on one such moment. A huge round of applause to Greg Nicotero for his efforts directing “Judge, Jury, Executioner”, there were some really beautiful moments captured on screen. As well as some instances that ripped the audience’s heart out, stomped on it, dropped it down a well, and then fed it to a walker. Yeah, this one was emotional on so many levels.
We’re going to start this week with the Shane Issue to make room for the main topic this episode. Right away, we knew Shane would go ballistic if they didn’t off the prisoner. In typical fashion, he tries to worm his way into Andrea’s ear to turn her to his side in the matter. Not that she needed much pushing to get there. Andrea—despite her background as a civil rights lawyer—is all about capital punishment. I’m not too sure how much of that is her being willing to do anything to survive or an attempt to immolate the men in how they deal. Shane’s continued efforts to stage a mutiny to oust Hershel and Rick may fall on deaf ears with Andrea, no matter how much he tries to poison her ear. Also, how long has he been stealing ammunition? Personally, I don’t think Shane plans to stay with the group much longer.
Daryl is likewise pulling away from the group, setting his camp further away from everyone else. He’s also distanced himself even more from Carol, which breaks my heart. I wanted to see what would bloom between those two if given the chance. Daryl displays a moral code in this episode, despite what he’d have us believe about being a hard-as-nails man with no limits or boundaries. His anger at Randall shifts to blind fury after hearing the unspeakable things his crew has done to innocents. Is beating someone associated with rapists right? No. But seeing that Daryl cares about anything at all is reassuring. He’s pulled so far into himself that there wasn’t much left to watch other than a snarling squirrel catcher.
There was all of one happy moment in this episode. We’ve been waiting a few weeks to see how Hershel would change after the attack in the bar. He’s continued down the path allowing Rick to do what he sees fit to protect the farm. However, Hershel also had a change of heart about a much more pleasant matter. In a very touching moment he gave his approval of Glenn and Maggie’s relationship. Won’t lie, I cheered. Go Team Glenn!
Normally I don’t do this, but . . . SPOILER WARNING!! The text blow contains spoilers from episode 211 of The Walking Dead. If you have not seen the episode, what are you waiting for? Go watch! Then come back and finish reading.
The big question—which is literally underlined three times and written in all capital letters on my review notes—Who is to blame for the last moments of the episode?
On one hand you have Carl, who is acting out more and more. Not only did he wander away from camp on his own, but also stole a gun from Daryl. The icing on the cake came when he tried to take on a walker by himself and nearly got eaten. He also said some very nasty things to Carol. Yes, Carl is also mourning Sophia’s loss, but that gives him no right to speak as he did.
However, whenever you see a child misbehaving, you need to look at the parents. Rick is consumed with the idea of doing what is right for everyone. In the process of solving the world’s problems, he’s lost sight of the things closest to him. Carl needs a father more now than ever and between the two men who could be a father figure to him—his actual father and Shane—he spends most of his time with Shane… a man not well known for being a role model, or even all that nice. And forget about Lori being an actual parent. She’s got her nose in everyone else’s business to make sure they’re not all talking about her. Get over yourself and take care of your child, please. Before he gets anyone else in camp killed.
No matter whom you blamed, the group has lost their voice of reason. A loss born out of sheer neglect. Dale fought so hard for so long to remind everyone that they are human despite what happened around them. He assured them that even with walkers knocking down their doors that being a decent person still mattered. Through Dale’s efforts they kept that vital piece of themselves that distinguished the living from the walkers. If they go around executing people for no valid reason, how are they better than the undead?
“The world we know is gone, but keeping our humanity, that’s a choice.” –Dale
Jeffrey DeMunn gave a brilliant performance in this episode. You can tell that he put everything into the role. Dale never slowed, never wavered in his belief that an alternate solution could be found to deal with Randall. What really broke my heart was in the end he won. The kid lives to see another day, but Dale won’t. I’m tearing up again thinking about it—tears of impotent rage aimed at fictional characters and their messed up fates. That is testament to the skill of everyone involved in creating The Walking Dead.
What do you think, who is really to blame for Dale’s death? Let us hear your opinions in the comments below.
For those of you who have been following the plight of Blue Brigade loyalist, Moira Jones, we received another communication from her last night. You may recall she sent the Zombie Survival Crew command a cry for help, and we are proud of our crew, because the response was immediate. Field reports came in and a rescue mission was mounted. Below is the communication record of a call received last night in the command center. While the situation seems dire for our brave crew member, we will not give up hope.
FLANERY: ZSC Command, Lieutenant Flanery. State your name and brigade.
JONES: Oh, my gosh! It works! THE PHONE WORKS!
*static*
JONES:Hello? Are you…
*static*
FLANERY: Name and brigade?
*static*
JONES: … me! It’s Moira!
FLANERY:Moira! Thank god. Are you alright?
JONES: I think so, but I need your help!
FLANERY:Commander Reedus and Rooker have put together a retrieval team. They’re on the way to you now. Just hang on.
*silence*
FLANERY: Moira? Are you okay?
*silence*
FLANERY: Have you been bitten or scratched?
JONES: No, but…
*static*
JONES: … scared.
FLANERY: Say again?
JONES: I said, I’m scared.
FLANERY: Oh kid. That’s okay. Hell, if you weren’t scared I’d be worried about you.
JONES: I wish Donut was here.
*barking*
FLANERY: She says, “Stay Dixon strong.”
JONES: Will you stay on the phone with me until the rescue team gets here?
FLANERY: Of course, I will, kid. We just need to make sure you’re as safe as possible. Are you in a contained space? Can the walkers get to you where you are?
JONES: I don’t think so. The only way up to the sixth floor now is the stairs and I blocked the door. I don’t think they can get in.
Well, no one can complain about the lack of walker action in the newest episode of The Walking Dead. I’ve seen enough leaking skulls to satisfy my bloodlust for another couple of weeks, so long as the writer’s promise to quit trying to make me cry. More on that later. We’re diving straight into the heart of this episode with Rick, Shane, and the showdown we’ve been waiting two seasons to see.
After Lori planted the seeds of doubt in Rick’s mind last week, it was only a matter of time before he took things to the source. Did anyone else get a mental image of Lori as a demon whispering in his ear? Creepy as heck. Anyways… Being Mr. Honorable, Rick took Shane out for a nice long drive and confronted him away from everyone else to give him a fair chance to say his piece. He gets it—understands that Shane loves Lori as a representation of life and love in his world of death. But he also knows his friend, sees that he’s dangling one foot over the edge of the Cliff of No Return. The amount of restraint shown by both men in that scene resolved none of the tension between them. We knew they’d have more to say about it, and boy did they.
One of the problems that’s sprouted up in this post-apocalyptic universe is the notion that your everyday Joe can, with the proper application of force and smarts, become God. Who gets to decide which of the living are fit to survive? Certainly not Shane, who goes into every decision gun first. At least Rick makes an effort to think things through. But is he any more fit to make that choice for someone else? Are any of us? In their shoes, I would have left Randall there. If he was determined enough to walk the eighteen plus miles to invade the camp, then I’d deal with it. Rich and Shane’s differing opinions boiled over, giving them an excuse to vent physically what neither man could cope with emotionally. I wonder what Lori will say when she learns what all her whispering caused. She nearly lost both of them.
Before we move to the really heavy subject that’s unavoidable thanks to this episode, I want to yet again theorize over what Jenner said to Rick before the CDC blew up. When they inspected the deputy walkers, Shane seemed at a loss for how they turned without being bitten. Rick, however knew that a scratch could change them. Has this happened before? I can’t remember. But it seems that the virus that reanimates the dead is adapting. Perhaps Jenner knew this would happen and warned Rick.
At the beginning of season two the writers touched on the issue of suicide. For Andrea, it seemed to be the only way to cope with her losses and escape an inevitable painful demise by walker. Dale took it upon himself to keep her from it. Daryl talked some sense into her, in his own way—with help from an unfortunate walker that’d hung himself before turning. Now they’ve circled back around to that issue with Beth, Hershel’s youngest daughter. Just like Andrea, her decision was taken away. Was Lori right to stop her? Do the same rules about suicide persist after death has thrown the rest of the rules to the wind?
Maggie tries like heck to make Beth see what losing her would do to the rest of the family. But she is so determined to take the easy path that she tries to convince Maggie to do it with her. Desperation makes a person’s mind search for the “easy button”. Suicide isn’t the way, though. Trying to make a pact with your loved ones to do the same is forcing them to follow the wrong path in their life.
Andrea and Lori have very different views about how to survive. Lori wants stability, to bury her head and do what she can to pretend there aren’t walkers outside. Andrea is trying to adapt, but for her survival isn’t worth it unless she is the one calling the shots. She went behind the “alpha” female’s back and gave Beth the opportunity to do as she wished. Actions like that come with a price. One that everyone involved has to pay.
Next week promises to be equally as tense. What will happen to the outsider, Randall? Chime in with your predictions in the comments.
MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital. OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety. STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
The cold wind cut through the thick hoodie, pea-coat, and flannel shirt I wore as I walked along the cracked and crumbled sidewalk. I shivered and ducked my head down in an effort to keep it at bay. It seemed I was always cold these days. The power in the abandoned library I lived in finally kicked the bucket and at night the cold became unbearable. The daytime wasn’t much better thanks to the heavy gray clouds covering the sky for miles in all directions. Another problem with clouds, they made everything feel so much more depressing. Sure, the city wasn’t deserted, not yet. Several apartment complexes and quite a few stores had been abandoned when the first outbreak occurred. But those who stayed…stayed put. No one ventured outside anymore, not for long anyway. The gray clouds were always a kind of symbol of that for me, in a weird way. They had this feeling of expectancy, of waiting. You knew the clouds wanted to break and shower the city with rain, sleet—whatever it was up there—but it kept itself contained. That’s kind of the way things were now. I touched the grip of my Colt 1911 as if expecting Hell to break out right there. It didn’t. I relaxed a bit and tried to concentrate on keeping my teeth from chattering. The first outbreak happened a little over three months ago. It sent everyone into a panic. There’d been smaller ones since. Whenever someone dropped dead it was only a matter of time before they began walking around again. Everyone came to expect this, but that didn’t make it any less frightening. I have it a bit easier than most, though, no family to take care of really. I have a sort of ‘family’ with the Zombie Survival Crew, but no one to be obligated to. I missed that. See, I’d been living with my little brother and my uncle. Then my brother, Todd, turned. He was one of the first to turn, actually. Just six years old… After that my uncle took off. I don’t know where, and I don’t really care. Everyone in our apartment building left to go find shelter deeper in the city or find their family and friends. I think we all knew the first outbreak was just the tip of the iceberg. I left too, taking as much food as I could and a few blankets, and moved into the public library. To be honest, I’m surprised no one else thought to go there. I mean, the doors are heavy wood, easy to barricade with bookshelves. There’s entertainment, and as a long as you have enough food and warmth, it’d be perfect. Oh well, guess I’m the only one to think of it. I headed to the abandoned supermarket just a few blocks down. My canned food supplies were low. If I was lucky, I’d be able to find a few cans that hadn’t been grabbed already. As I walked, I looked up, brushing back some of my windswept hair out of my face, and saw a group of four coming towards me. I stopped, my hand immediately going to my gun. They stopped. I saw that they were alive. They reached for their weapons too, and eyed me with suspicion and distrust. I dropped my hand to show them I wouldn’t draw my weapon if they weren’t. They started to move, but kept their hands close to their weapons as they crossed the street, watching me the whole time. I started walking again, making sure they wouldn’t try anything when I turned my back. Only after I rounded a corner did I relax. You couldn’t be too careful. It wasn’t just the dead you had to fear; you never knew what other people were planning, either. The Walkers aren’t really a huge threat in this area, not yet, anyway. It’s only a matter of time. Everyone knows that. You can’t stop people from dying, and you can’t keep them from coming back, either. No matter how many times you heard the broadcasts swearing up and down that a cure is right around the corner. That’s complete bull crap. Fear ruled the city now. I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the darkened windows of the supermarket up ahead. Half way done with the trip, but I didn’t feel safe. No one felt safe anymore. I slid my gun out from my belt and switched the safety off, chambering a round. Satisfied, I moved quickly up the sidewalk and to the broken automated doors. I peered inside, quieting my breathing so I could hear better. I didn’t hear anything at all, so I eased inside and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I didn’t want to use it the flashlight in my pocket, (a) because I didn’t know how long the batteries would last—and there was a shortage of batteries now ever since the power outages started happening more and more frequently—and (b) I didn’t know if a Walker lurked inside or not. My eyesight adjusted and I eased my way towards back wall. I’d been in here a few times with better lighting. If there were any canned goods left, they’d be back there. Trying my best not to make a sound, I started to make my way down the aisle. I should’ve checked the ground better, I know. My foot hit a basket in the middle of the aisle and it went clattering across the floor. Gasping, I froze and waited for the echo of metal clattering on the floor to cease. As it died away, another sound made my heart stop, then immediately begin hammering at my ribcage. Slow, shuffling footsteps came from somewhere in the store. I whirled around and inhaled deeply, hoping to smell it before it got too close, or I hear it. Whatever it was. I couldn’t stay put, it would be suicide. The smartest thing to do would be to keep moving. I did. When I estimated I reached the canned goods section, I reached out and started feeling for cans. It didn’t matter what I picked up, I’m not a picky eater. I was just happy when my hand touched the cold aluminum and started snatching up cans, shoving them into the canvas shoulder bag. I tried not to let them clink against the extra ammo clips in there. Satisfied I grabbed enough for another week or two, I started for the exit. “Uhhhhhhhhhhh…” The moan came from right at my elbow. I whirled. My arm smacked into cold, clammy, rotten flesh. How could I not notice a walker getting that close? The sound of cans clicking together probably distracted me but that was no excuse. I needed to do better than that. I aimed my gun at where my arm met dead flesh, then thought better of it. With my other hand I pulled free the Army Scout knife strapped to my leg and swung. The blade ripped into soft tissue. An angry growl crept from the darkness before a heavy body stumbled against me. “Get off!” I shouted, shoving it back as hard as I could and swung again, aiming up towards the source of all the moaning. “GAH!” The walker moaned. The blade dug into thick bone. It hit the skull, but didn’t penetrate to the bone. I quickly jerked it free, a foot against the zombie as leverage, then brought the knife down as hard as I could. It plowed into the zombie’s skull. A disgusting, cold liquid squirted onto my hand, doubtless blood and brain. Thunk. The zombie fell at my feet, dead once and for all. I pulled my knife free, wiped it clean on the nearby shelf, re-sheathed my weapons, and bolted for the door. I didn’t stop running until I was halfway down the sidewalk. That was close, I thought. Too close. Pay more attention next time. Still, it was satisfying to be alive in spite of the gray, gooey slime on my left hand. Best of all, at least seven cans were in my bag. I patted my haul appreciatively. As I walked, a noise off to my right made me stop. I reached for the blade once again—it’d be best to keep noise to a minimum. A terrier, very dirty looking, padded out of the alley up ahead. I stopped short. I hadn’t seen an animal in ages, except for crows of course. All of the pets disappeared; either locked in with their owners, run off, or eaten from what I could figure. “Hey, puppy,” I crooned, offering my hand in a sign of friendliness. “You all alone? Come on, I won’t hurt you.” I inched forward, careful not to look threatening. The dog stopped, ears lifted in alert. I smooched my lips, begging it come with me. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The dog whimpered then cautiously trotted forward, staying as far away as possible. He sniffed my hand. I tried my luck and slowly uncurled my fingers to touch the rough fur on his head. He backed away. I clicked my tongue. He approached again. I managed to gently stroke his fur. Slowly, his droopy tail began to sweep back and forth. That’s what I love about dogs. They can go through the worst things and still be willing to love if shown affection. “There we go,” I murmured approvingly, stroking under his chin when I saw it made his tail wag faster. “Now just come home with me and we’ll—” The dog’s head jerked towards the alley. He gave a startled yelp before turning and darting away. “No, wait!” I called, getting to my feet. “Don’t go!” A clattering from the alley grabbed my attention. I drew my knife. Doubtless the little dog heard something in the alley before I did. Another walker appeared from the mouth of the alley, shambling forward unsteadily. I pulled back and drove my knife into the side of its head, pushing over against the wall. It struggled for a moment, so I twisted the embedded knife, making sure I destroyed the brain, and then jerked it free. The zombie crumpled at my feet. I fought off a wave of nausea. A woman this time, with dirty, long blond hair. She couldn’t have been dead very long. Her color wasn’t as bad as I’d seen before, it was still a bit pink, though fast changing to gray. “Mwaaaaaaahh…” The moan came from the alley. I whirled, my knife ready to go into the head of another walker, but I stopped short. The alley overflowed with walkers. Their voices joined together in a grisly howl of the hunt. I bolted for the library. I charged through the front doors and slammed them shut and tipped the heavy bookcase barricade in front of them. In a few minutes the sound of their moans grew louder. The scratch of their nails raked against the wooden doors as they thumped against them in vain. I started towards my little sleeping spot in the back corner, a good vantage point from which I could see every entrance and exit. Suddenly my pocket vibrated. The musical jingle of a ring tone floated up to me. I scrambled for it. The phone only ever received calls from other Zombie Survival Crew members—all of which were formidable fighters. If they called, things were dire, indeed. We’d been lucky so far to maintain a stable connection. I pulled it free and looked at the caller ID. My eyebrows raised in surprise. Eve! “Hello?” The line was filled with static, but I could still hear her. “Emma!” she said in relief. “I thought you would never answer. Are you okay?” I glanced at the doors. The walkers continued to thump and moan outside. “Sure,” I said. “Nothing I can’t handle. What’s wrong?” She paused. I frowned. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “Eve, what’s wrong?” I asked, a bit worried. “It—It’s Moira,” she said quietly. My heart skipped a beat. “What?” My voice rose in panic in spite of my efforts to control it, “What’s happened to Moira?” “She’s okay,” Eve said hurriedly. “For now. We just got word that her hospital has been overrun with walkers. She’s pinned down and needs help, fast.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Thank God.” True, her situation was less than appealing, but as long as she lived, I’d hold out hope. We agreed to meet at the abandoned hotel close by the hospital. “Be careful,” Eve said. I smiled. She’d become a surrogate mother and big sister rolled into one. “I will if you will,” I said. “I’ll be over in just a little while.” Over in my sleeping area, I reached under my pillow for the rest of the ammo I kept stashed there. And for something else—my sword. I loaded up with the extra ammo, bits of jerky, bandages, an extra knife, and some pain pills and antibiotic ointment I’d been lucky enough to find. I strapped on my sword and headed for the side door, hoping the walkers hadn’t gone around back. All clear. I took a deep breath and kept my sword at the ready, just in case. The bookshelf barricade slid out of the way. I slipped through the door and onto the sidewalk. Out of the multitude of buildings I picked out the one I knew to be the hospital. It stood quite a hike away and doubtless wouldn’t be an easy trip. But I didn’t care. This was Moira we were talking about, Moira. The strong one, the one we all looked up to and admired. The angel. I swallowed the lump in my throat at thought of how scared she must be. With Eve, Jess, Apryl, Tiffany and Rebecca helping me, there’s no way we’d let anything happen to her. Hang on, Moira, I thought. Breaking into a jog, I ran still clutching my sword. “Help is on the way.”
Jessica’s POV:
Zombie Survival Crew
“We are going to need more supplies.” I said, looking at the nearly bare shelves. My mother, little sister, step-dad, and fiancé were staying in my house. All of the doors and windows barricaded. “I will drive to the store and see if there is anything left.” Unfortunately, people didn’t always take what they absolutely needed. Most of the stuff went whether it was needed or not. We were down to a few cans of vegetables, a box and a half of cereal, and five bottles of water. That wouldn’t last very long. A trip to the store was in high demand. Not to mention, we needed medical supplies. A couple of band-aids, not even half a tube of Antibiotic ointment, one wrap, and about twenty-five Ibuprofen pills. I put on my homemade weapons belt and grabbed my cast iron skillet, slipping it in the holster designed for it. Then I grabbed my twin Desert Eagles with silencers, army knife, and three daggers. As I put on my coat I said, “Come here, Luna”. Fortunately, I’d taken the time to have Luna properly trained by Sean Patrick Flanery and Donut. She was a zombie killing machine. With her, I felt calmer. I knew she had my back. Luna and I headed for the door. “Don’t forget your phone!” mom called out and tossed my phone to me. “Thanks!” I smirked and walked out the door. Luna and I got into the car and headed to the store. When we got there, there a group of living people stood outside. The group of men looked like they meant business. One guy held a baseball bat and thumped it against his hand. Another rested his hand on the handle of a machete. Two others stepped forward, holding crowbars. I stopped for a minute and looked over each one of them carefully. Didn’t see any guns. I moved toward the doors. “Don’t take another step,” the biggest guy warned. “We run this place, and if you want to come in, you’ll need to pay.” Pay? Right…we’ll see who will pay. I took another step. “I’m warning you,” he shouted. “You need to give us some weapons if you want to come in here!” I couldn’t help it. The giggles bubbled up in my stomach. I let out a huge roll of laughter. They were just amusing. Did they not know? Well, of course they had no idea that I was in the Purple Brigade of the Zombie Survival Crew and therefore properly trained to handle any and every situation that might arise. “What are you laughing at, ho?” asked the smallest guy of them all. I went from laughing to serious in a millisecond. Oh no he didn’t. Not taking my eyes off of them, I opened the car door. Luna stepped out. She bared her fangs. Her hackles rose down her back. She stood there and stared at them. “What was it that you said? I don’t think my dog heard you quite right,” I said taking a few steps closer. Luna stayed in step with me, not taking her eyes off of them. “I called you a ho,” the little guy said, emphasizing the word. “That’s what I thought you said.” I smiled. With one swoop, I pulled the three daggers from their holster and whipped them toward the men. They hit their mark, leaving the little guy standing. While the three clutched their legs, Luna lunged at the little guy and took him down to the ground. They writhed on the cold, wet concrete. I smiled and said, “I wouldn’t move if I were you. Luna doesn’t take jokes very well, and that’s all you guys are…a joke.” I walked into the store and grabbed a few more cans of food, some more medicine, and some dog food. When I walked back out, the four grown men were sitting with terrified looks on their faces. One of them actually peed himself. “Keep the daggers,” I said with a grin. “There’s plenty more where they came from. Come on, Luna.” We got in the car and headed back to the house. On the way home my phone rang. LK Gardner-Griffie, my commander, informed me that someone was in distress. A fellow member needed help. LK was safe, but couldn’t get out to help anyone at the time. “I’ll take care of it,” I assured her. “It’s Moira. She’s trapped in her hospital room, almost out of supplies. All of her caretakers are dead.” The words stung like a million bees. “I will get a group together to help her,” I promised. As soon as I hung up with my commander I called my sister, Eve. Without even saying hello she asked, “Are you safe? Is everything okay?” I assured her that I was fine, but told her that we had a problem. “What is it?” she asked, desperation in her voice. “It’s Moira, Eve. She sent out a distress call through ZSC. She’s stuck in her hospital, alone, barricaded on the sixth floor. She’s not injured but is running low on food. She needs our help.” Panic rose up inside my chest. “Alright, let’s meet up at my work then we can head out from there. We can’t leave Moira defenseless like that!” Eve’s voice cracked. “Okay, see you there.” I got to the house and unloaded everything and informed everyone that a very sweet young lady needed my help. I said goodbye to everyone and packed a few supplies, my weapons and Luna in the car. I headed to Eve’s work. She got in the car without a word. We were all business on the way to the hospital. Eve pulled out her phone to call Emma. I listened to the conversation. When Eve said we were pulling together a team to go help Moira and asked if Em was in, I gave my best “Hell Yeah, let’s do this’” grin to my sister. Eve hung up with Emma after telling her where to meet us. She looked over at me and gave me a soft punch in the arm. “You ready for this, Jess?” I smiled. Luna nudged me; I pat her on the head. “Those walkers don’t stand a chance. Let’s go save Moira.” We took off for the hospital.
Misson:
The Rescue Team
We all gathered in room twelve upon arrival. The stench of death filled the air. The moans of walkers echoed in the distance. Apryl, Jessica, Rebecca, Emma, Eve and I stood discussing strategies. Jessica got a map of the hospital. She wouldn’t tell us how. A knock on the door made us jump. Walkers couldn’t knock! We draw our weapons, ready for a fight. Eve grabbed the door handle and yanked it open after a silent count of three. We lower our weapons. Michael and Norman stood in the hallway. They’d received our mission and coordinates. We laid out a plan—who’d go where and how we’d work our way through the hospital. The only option was to clear it out in order to reach Moira. Michael tossed his bag down on the bed and pulled out walkie talkies. We established a safe word when one of us clears a path, “Squirrel”. “Oreo” meant pretty much get your butt to my location I am in need of assistance. We’d reconvene on the sixth floor. The mission would be tricky but Moira was worth it. Her bravery is ZSC legend. She possesses the courage of an army of millions. We needed to draw on that and go get our girl. We headed out, ready to stomp walker butt and save our little chick-a-dee. Standing outside the hospital, the world became quiet—too quiet. Despite our nerves, we needed to go in there. Michael would lead the team of myself, Apryl and Emma. Norman had Eve, Rebecca and Jessica. Once we cleared the first level, we’d break apart once more; Norman and Eve, Michael and I, Apryl and Emma, and Jessica and Rebecca. We all look at each other, say a prayer and charge the hospital “To Moira!” This would be one hell of a night.
Sadie is a normal girl living with her mother, well, as normal as a girl who collects zombies can be. She didn’t start out to collect zombies, it just sort of happened…starting with the zombie animals who sought her out, and then Jess, the little girl. Predictably, the neighbors do not understand why Sadie feels the need to take care of the zombies and, as with most things not understood, fear develops.
It started with pets. I woke one morning to a familiar scratching noise and found my dog on my front porch. The dog who died a month ago. Barney didn’t hurt anyone and he didn’t eat much, so we let him stay. Mom worried at first he might start dropping hunks of fur – or flesh – on the floor, but if possible, he shed less in undeath than he did in life. Barney was the first, but he wasn’t the last. We hadn’t buried any other pets, but our neighbours had. When the owners turned their deceased pets away, the animals ended up on my doorstep. I couldn’t bring myself to make them leave, but letting them in the house wasn’t an option. Mom put up with Barney. The other animals? Not so much. She did, however, let me keep our old shed open for them. I put food out sometimes, but they never ate it. Neither did any living animals. In fact, fewer live creatures came around our house every day. Mom and I didn’t mind much. The raccoons finally stopped getting into our garbage. The neighbours whispered about me when the fourth silent dog slipped into the shed. The whispers increased when two birds and a rabbit joined the other animals. They neared shouts when the horse showed up, but where else could he go? Eventually, I found an open-minded farm where the horse had room to run. Mostly because he kept kicking up Mom’s flower beds. It hurt a little when people started calling me “Zombie Girl,” but I ignored them. And after a while, they lost interest. A few dead animals, even ones still walking around, weren’t as interesting as the latest celebrity gossip. Until the girl appeared on our front step. She freaked me out. Seeing as I slept with a dead dog on the end of my bed, that said a lot. Not that there was anything wrong with her, per se. She had all her parts, no bits of skin dropping off or loose teeth. Even her light blonde hair stayed long and thick. Dull, not anything like the shiny hair children her age usually possessed, but long and thick nonetheless. But when I opened the door and those flat silver eyes stared at me, I shrieked and slammed the door shut. Five minutes later, when I worked up the courage to open the door, she hadn’t moved so much as an inch. Mom wasn’t happy about the girl. But Jess wouldn’t tell me anything about her parents. I couldn’t contact them about her. Like my animals, she had nowhere to go and I became responsible for her survival, much like I was for the animals. I mean, she couldn’t have been more than nine when she died. Where else could she go?
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To read more, and find out what happens to Sadie and Jess, check out Undead Is Not An Option.
This file contains the mission objective for the members of a secret self-organized unit within the ZSC. These members received the Urgent call for help from Moira Jones and have sprung into action.
MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital. OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety. STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
I sat perched in an old chair inside an abandoned house. The cold evening air howled. Rain leaked through the roof. I faced the boarded up door, a black handled katana with an eleven-inch blade on my lap and another within reach. My eyes ached. My long black hair lay matted and dirty across my shoulders. The toe of my heavy black leather boot tapped on the floor as I stared at the door. I wasn’t expecting company, but I made sure I was ready should someone decide to “drop by.” I wore all black and my long leather duster jacket. I hid in the shadows, ready to pounce.
Orange Brigade
I’m a member of the ZSC Orange Brigade. We are the ones always one step ahead. We are the oddballs lurking in the shadows. The ones you are unable to read because we are so full of surprises. We’re the thinkers—the ones who plan ahead, ready for anything. I’ve perfected moving without being seen. It’s how I stayed alive the day the world went crazy and the dead started walking. It’d been a normal day. I was restocking my go bag, you know, just in case. I spotted my neighbor, Ms. Newman wondering around my backyard. She looked beat up, bloody, and lost. I rushed outside to her side. When she turned around reality slapped me in the face. I thought, maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I was seeing things. When Ms. Newman lunged for me, I grabbed a nearby shovel and disposed of her. I ran for my house and went for my phone. Sure enough an alert text greeted me. D-Day arrived. I reacted quickly, contacting my fellow brigade members and my brigade buddy. I told them I was safe, alive and on my way to a designated location. A horde of walkers right outside of the city cut me off. They chased me to my present location. I set up camp to wait for them to clear. I contacted other ZSC members. Eve, Rebecca, Em, Jessica and Apryl. Sure they are from different brigades, but we are all fighting for the same cause. My phone echoed through darkness and I’m quick to grab it. I hit a couple buttons. It’s my first lieutenant David Della Rocco. He got an urgent message from Blue Commander, Norman Reedus pertaining to brigade member Moira Jones. She was trapped in a hospital over run by walkers. Blue brigade is rallying members for a rescue mission. He reached out to his good friend Rocco for help. Moira didn’t have much time. She was low on resources and needed help ASAP. I let Rocco know I’d help and bring reinforcements. Standing, I hurried to collect my supplies, holster my swords to my back. I look over my shoulder and motion to someone. From the shadows stepped another ZSC member, Apryl. I met her right inside the city, she’d been running from a walker. She found the house we hid in. I felt a connection to this girl; we were both oddballs, which made things perfect—we fought off the horde as a cohesive unit. “Moira’s in trouble.” I relayed the message to her. Apryl nodded and pulled out two Desert Eagle mark XIXs. “Let’s go save Moira!” We turned and took a deep breath. For Moira, we’d willingly face whatever waited on the other side of the door. I quickly contact Rebecca and tell her the dire situation. I send her the coordinates of where the hospital is and the nearest hotel to the hospital where we’d meet up with everyone else. Then I passed it down the chain to Eve, Em and Jessica. “You ready for this?!” I asked Apryl. “Heck Yeah! To Moira!” I had faith that with all our combined skills, Moira would be safe. One more alert went out to Special Forces—attention one Michael Rooker—we’d need him. I stuff my phone in my pocket and look at Apryl. We kicked the door open and ran into the darkness.
Eve’s POV:
Lt Blue Brigade
The world went to hell so quickly and I was so unprepared. As a member of the ZSC Light Blue brigade I should have known better but I never expected the worst disaster in history to take place so soon! When the call came in from my commander, Anthony, I stood there staring at my phone for a long while. A few shots fired close to my house and broke my paralysis. I quickly strapped my double thigh holsters on and the calf sheath for my hunting knife. I slid the knife in place and loaded clips into my twin 9mm Taurus 917Cs and fitted silencers onto the end of each barrel. I got my daughter and grandma into the car with essential supplies in a matter of minutes. I set my compound bow and quiver on the front passenger seat and moved to open the garage door, one of my silenced twin 9s in hand. I gave grandma a thumbs-up. She nodded and watched me in the rear-view mirror. My grandmother made fun of me on many occasions for what she felt were ridiculous preparations. As I looked into her fear-filled eyes I knew she finally understood. I pulled the garage door open in one quick movement and took down the three walkers loitering in front of our house. Grandma pulled out and I hopped in the car. I told her to head to my uncle’s house. I spoke with my uncle about supplies and how long we could ration out food before a run would become necessary. Suddenly my phone rang. My sister, Jess. I was relieved to hear her voice. “Are you safe? Is everything okay?” Jessica promised she was fine but that we had a problem. “It’s Moira, Eve. She sent out a distress call through ZSC. She needs our help.” Jess ran down the situation. Her voice cracked with worry. “Alright, let’s meet up at my work then we can head out from there. We can’t leave Moira defenseless like that!” I fought back tears, thinking of her stuck in the hospital alone. “Okay, see you there.” I explained to my daughter that I needed to go and she’d be safe, asked her to keep an eye on grandma and make sure she stayed out of trouble. She gave me a stiff nod, a serious expression on her face. I pulled her into a hug, my tough little girl, and kissed her on the forehead before grabbing my go bag and leaving the house. Jessica and I met up, quickly planning a route to the abandoned hotel. I put in a call to the last member of our small group…and listened to it ring. And ring. I began to worry she hadn’t received her warning in time. “Hello?” Emma’s voice sounded on the other end. Oh thank God. “Emma! I thought you’d never answer. Are you okay?” My voice trembled. I looked over at Jess who watched the parking lot with focused intensity. “Sure.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Nothing I can’t handle. What’s wrong?” Again the thought of Moira—who’d been through so much and was tougher and sweeter than any young girl I’d ever known—alone and scared brought tears to my eyes. My throat tightened as I tried not to cry. “It…” I took a deep breath to steady my voice. “It’s Moira.” “What?” Panic came through the phone loud and clear. “What’s happened to Moira?” “She’s okay, for now,” I said before Emma could work her way into a full panic. “We just got word that her hospital has been overrun with walkers. She needs help, fast.” “Thank God.” I could picture her standing there with a hand over her heart, relieved that Moira lived. “Jess, Rebecca, Tiffany, Apryl and I are putting together a rescue team.” Jess threw me a quick glance, a “hell yeah” grin on her face. “We’re going to get her. You in?” “You know I am,” she said. I could so hear the implied “DUH!” “Good,” I said, smirking at her eagerness. “We’re meeting at the abandoned hotel close by the hospital and formulate a plan of action from there, okay?” “Okay.” She paused. “Just give me a minute to take care of something and I’ll be right over.” “Be careful.” My chest constricted again at the thought of Emma making her way to our rendezvous by herself. I wished I were there to make sure she stayed safe. “I will if you will.” She sounded like she smiled at my overprotective mother hen statement. “I’ll be over in just a little while.” We hung up. Jess turned to me. I inhaled deeply and gave her a soft punch on the arm. “You ready for this, Jess?” She smiled and patted her dog, Luna on the head. “Those walkers don’t stand a chance. Let’s go.” We took off to meet up with the others who’d help us save that brave little girl.
First things first… I must take a moment to applaud the folks at KNB EFX. The first walker we see in episode 209 is incredible. My inner makeup geek sat forward in my seat, watching how the walker’s face changed while it pushed through the glass trying to get… tsk, tsk. Almost spoiled things there. Needless to say, this episode in general is very detailed in the gore department. And I loved every drop of it.
Which becomes the biggest threat in the Zombiepocalypse, walkers or the living? The second half of TWD’s season 2 is focusing on this very question. A lot of complaints about the show include the now tiresome, “Where are all of the zombies?” For me, the real danger isn’t walkers. The living are far more cruel. They eat you up in ways the undead cannot. Humans destroy you from the soul out. Look at the road our survivors have gone down since the first season. Rick, in particular, went from an idealist who thinks everyone—even lost causes like Merle Dixon—can be saved to the brutally practical man we’ve seen the last two episodes. But then he lapses back into honorable cowboy mode… and nearly gets his backside full of buckshot.
Hershel Greene goes through a similar transformation after the barn incident. Actually, that’s not quite true. It took Rick tracking him down and their discussion about being in a hopeless situation that turned Hershel around in the way he approaches the changes in their world. He even goes so far as to give silent approval of the drastic measures Rick went to in order to keep not only his family safe, but Hershel’s as well. Will these changes stick? I think so. His confrontation with Shane towards the end of the episode strengthened the tentative bond formed between Glenn, Rick, and himself back at the bar. It also displayed to his family his shift in thinking about how to deal with the walkers.
Hershel seems to be finally be warming up to Glenn. It’s likely he won’t ever be happy about Glenn being involved with Maggie, but he didn’t let him get gunned down by the rogue survivors—who by the way are a prime example of how not to run a survivors group, folks. What distresses me, though, is Glenn’s insistence that he can’t fulfill his role in camp while being in love with Maggie. He’s finally stepped up to be more of a hero; he could be her hero in every sense of the term and now he is backing away from it. All because of that hesitation and the drive to keep her safe emotionally. I’m with Maggie on this one. His behavior is frustrating. It goes to prove that no matter how intelligent someone is they can be awfully stupid when it comes to matters of the heart.
Allow me a moment to profess my love for Carol. Out of everyone, she is the true survivor. Her personal story line through two seasons of the show is a series of moments where she’s kicked around, both physically and emotionally. This week she stood up for herself. She didn’t let Daryl push her around. Carol spoke her mind, tried to talk some reason into him. Daryl is uncomfortable with positive emotions thanks to his rough upbringing. So when Carol reaches out after denying him the chance to comfort her in her mourning, he lashes back at her. He must think she will be like everyone else in his life, users that don’t take his feelings into account before they act. Daryl doesn’t realize that Carol spent years of oppression comforting herself, that’s just her way. He pulled a jerk move, getting in her face as though he meant to hit her. He’s above that. It got what he wanted, though. She let him be after that. The men in this episode were aggravating, to put it nicely.
Okay, fine. I can’t end this without addressing the Shane Issue. Deep breath… here we go.
The last cog on Shane’s mental mechanism finally snapped. No, it didn’t just snap, it shattered into a million pieces. Humpty Dumpty has a better chance of survival than Shane’s sanity. His mountain of lies is beginning to topple over. The only one still buying them is Andrea and that’s only because she thinks that he’s got the secret to being a true blue zombie slayer—shut off your emotions. It’s impossible for Shane to see reality. He’s regressed into a fantasy world where he has a family that loves him and needs him to play hero. This must be a coping mechanism to make up for the fact that obviously Shane didn’t have much in the way of love before the walkers shambled onto the scene. A string of one-night stands does not make up for the lack of a loving relationship. The fantasy rotted his brain. And the most disgusting part of everything is Shane using his twisted love for Lori to justify the horrendous things he’s done to others.
Shane pushed Lori to the point where she can’t continue to deal with his crazy on her own. That last shot of Rick at the end of the episode says more than anything he could’ve said out loud. Things are going to get tense with those three. Who will be caught in the crossfire?
Have something to say about this episode of The Walking Dead? Add your own comments below.
We’re giving you another excerpt from the debut Zombie Survival Crew Anthology: Undead Is Not An Option, but don’t forget, YOU can be a part of the second anthology!! Click here for more details.
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Bitten follows the final moments in the life of a woman, Emily, after she is bitten by a zombie. Her husband, Zach, pulls her into an alley, attempting to hide from the horde of zombies out on the street. While Emily deals with the emotions involved with her imminent death, Zach tries to protect her from the zombies her cries attract. When Zach realizes Emily’s bite is infected, he does his best to comfort her as she falls slowly from human to zombie.
Please note because the characters are dealing with a zombie outbreak, this excerpt may have some strong language.
We ran. Tired feet slammed against asphalt. Chests rose and fell in short bursts of breath. My heart felt ready to burst. Out of nowhere, I was struck by pain and collapsed in the street. Legs rushed past my head; the others kept on without me. “Emily!” Zach’s voice. He crouched next to me, also out of breath. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I have you.” All I saw was sky as he pulled me out of the street. A crowd of those—things—rushed by after our group. Their groan, that terrible sound of a thousand starved stomachs, filled my ears. The ground was cold and rough under me, and then wet. Zach propped me up against something that stank like the monsters that were chasing us. “Gross,” I said. I looked up at Zach. “Sorry,” he said, and brushed a few stray hairs from my face. “You’re safe now.” I watched the shine of Zach’s ring as he touched my face and thought of our wedding day. It was wonderful. In that alley, though, behind a dumpster, being chased by those creatures – and on top of it all, a cold, wet, smelly ass—being at the altar with Zach seemed like a long time ago. I listened for signs of the creatures chasing us. The echo of their moans had faded from the alley, but I still smelled them. Then again, I probably just smelled the dumpster. Zach examined my shoulder. “What’s up?” I asked. “Your shoulder,” he said. “Did you get bit?” “What?” I felt where he’d been inspecting; it stung. I winced a bit. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Probably just a scratch from when I fell.” “Look at your hand,” Zach said. Blood stained the tips of my fingers. “You got bit,” he said. “Your shirt’s ripped there.” He pointed to my sleeve. “Shit,” he said, “there’s teeth marks.” “It’s fine,” I said. “Come on, we’ve got to catch up with the others.” I tried to get up, but Zach held me back. He ripped my sleeve and pulled it down. “They’ll be okay. You won’t. Relax, Emily.” “What do you mean I won’t?”
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To read more, and find out what happens to Emily and Zach, check out Undead Is Not An Option.
After weeks of waiting and gnashing teeth, AMC finally brought us back into a world where the dead refuse to stay dead and the living struggle daily to cling to that precious whatever that makes us human. To be honest, around the ZSC Command Center, we weren’t looking very human ourselves. Call it TWD withdrawals.
A brief recap before diving into the mid-season premiere: We left Rick and the gang in the midst of a pile of walkers with severe cranial leakage. Hershel and his family were aghast, watching how the others dealt with walkers. And the only hope for some of the survivors—in a tiny, innocent form—just met their final rest courtesy of Rick. Got that so far? Good.
The mid-season premiere picks up exactly where the previous episode left off. I know it may be wrong, but I got a bit smug being able to ask Hershel, “Still think they’re just sick after your wife attacked your daughter?” Yes, I talk to the television. Nevertheless, my main beef with Hershel came, not from his insistence in clinging to faith, but in his inability to look in the eyes of a walker and know that they aren’t human any more. Shane’s methods in forcing everyone to deal with this fact are faulty, but necessary.
I know I’m not the only parent that cringed at how matter-of-fact Carl became about what happened at the barn. He had one scene in the episode and it made a heck of an impact. Lori is right to be concerned about the coldness weaving into Carl’s childhood. However, she thinks Rick should be able to fix it by being there to do the hard things for him. In reality, Carl will still see everything his father does to protect the camp and want to be that person. He wants to be the cowboy hero. It could cause serious problems down the road.
On the parenting train of thought, I could not help but cry when Carol conveyed to Daryl and Lori how she planned to cope with her loss. It wasn’t a scene with ugly tears and a huge breakdown. It almost would have been more preferable to the controlled, calm way she spoke. That reining it in is what broke me. Her grim acceptance of fate took her to a different level where no one was sure how or if they could comfort her. Daryl, most of all, seemed hurt by the fact that he’d been denied that chance. In comforting her, he could have comforted himself and she left him out in the cold. Seeing where those two go after this will be interesting. He thinks he failed her and she’s lost her hope.
That anyone can contemplate finding love in the Zombiepocalypse seems ridiculous, right? Yet we have this wonderful love story building in the tangled vines of TWD. Glenn and Maggie are possibly the last bits of hope left on the show. Can their Romeo and Juliet love survive everything that is happening around them at the farm? She thinks so. He’s afraid. Not afraid of love, but what would happen if he lost her. Rick is right; he needs to tell her how he feels, despite the fear.
Time to address my least favorite subject, Shane. He is going to implode soon. Dale sees it and is well aware of what kind of man Shane really is under the hero façade he’s put on since rescuing Lori and Carl. How do we know it is a lie? Listen to what he says to Carol. Here is a woman that’s just suffered the greatest loss a woman can suffer and he only addresses her feelings once. The rest of that conversation is all “poor Shane”. Why doesn’t he get recognition for getting rid of all those nasty walkers in the barn? Wah, wah, wah… Dale called it. Unless Shane gets what he wants—Lori—he will probably kill again. Unfortunately by confronting him about it, Dale has put himself in Shane’s sights.
This episode was the death of hope for everyone. Hershel can no longer sit and pray that his wife to be cured. Carol won’t be able to console herself with thoughts that Sophia is safely tucked away in the woods, too afraid to find her way back to camp. Lori is stripped of the notion that Carl will not be forced to grow up too quickly. And Rick’s desperation to keep everyone safe takes a bullet to the brainpan. However, it is up to Rick and Hershel to face their families, those that rely on them… and lie through their teeth. They must create hope again. People cannot, will not continue to march down the long road unless there is a light at the end of the tunnel. For numerous survivors, not just our heroes, this hope manifests in Utopia-like areas where there is plenty of food, water, and supplies for them to create new homes. They don’t really exist, but gives people hope that somewhere out there safety is possible.
There were two OMG moments in this episode… which I can’t talk about without giving spoilers. Needless to say, they will make next week’s episode a must-watch.
What are your predictions for the next episode? Leave a comment and let us know.
Erik and Jaimy have a relationship that’s filled with love and commitment. There’s just one problem… she wants to eat him. He works hard to keep her grounded in the world of the living, but Amanda, Jaimy’s best friend, wants her to embrace all aspects of being undead, including munching on Erik, buffet-style. Erik knows that he’s fighting an impossible battle, but he’s become a zombie in many ways himself. When he’s left vulnerable, will Jaimy’s love save him or will she embrace her true nature and destroy him?
FLANERY: Name and brigade?
Well, no one can complain about the lack of walker action in the newest episode of The Walking Dead. I’ve seen enough leaking skulls to satisfy my bloodlust for another couple of weeks, so long as the writer’s promise to quit trying to make me cry. More on that later. We’re diving straight into the heart of this episode with Rick, Shane, and the showdown we’ve been waiting two seasons to see.
First things first… I must take a moment to applaud the folks at KNB EFX. The first walker we see in episode 209 is incredible. My inner makeup geek sat forward in my seat, watching how the walker’s face changed while it pushed through the glass trying to get… tsk, tsk. Almost spoiled things there. Needless to say, this episode in general is very detailed in the gore department. And I loved every drop of it.
