It began as your basic New Year’s Eve party, the champagne was flowing, people were happy, and we were all waiting for the ball to drop and the New Year to start. Chanting the countdown along with the TV, I turned to kiss my husband as the clock struck midnight, but our lips didn’t even meet before the screaming started. There were only moments of chaos before the screen went blank and then a message about technical difficulties spread to all the channels showing the countdowns. Fear replaced excitement and we looked around at each other, wondering exactly how nervous we should be.
It didn’t take long for the news to spread about the bombs that hit New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Miami. Hundreds of thousands of people died in the blasts, but what happened after felt more like the apocalypse was coming. We started to hear news reports from the Center for Disease Control about a virus running rampant through the fall out zone. The radiation was causing side effects unlike any we had ever seen from a nuclear blast. It started with the aggression. Fights were breaking out; people were being beaten in the streets. It didn’t take long for full on chaos to ensue in most major cities on the coasts. By the time the word spread about the cannibalism the virus was way ahead of it.
When it comes to the fight or flight instinct my gut tells me to run. I packed everything I could fit into our Jeep, loaded up my family and headed north. Why north? It gave us farther to run.
Once we were in the car, with the baby sleeping, and music flowing from the speakers, I was almost able to calm down. I was almost able to forget we were in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. I let myself pretend for just a second that this was just an ordinary road trip with my family. Headed to a cabin or the beach, with no one waiting to eat us at the end of our trip. I was able to pretend just until we hit the next major city, abandoned, but for the lifeless and the mindless freaks feeding on them.
The CDC hasn’t released the word zombie yet, but when I see someone that looks like they used to be a human, and that someone is gnawing on someone else’s arm. Well, I don’t know about you, but to me, that says zombie. And when I think of zombies, the apocalypse isn’t far behind.
The word apocalypse means the end. The end of the world, of everything, and everyone. We’re still here, hunkered down in a run-down shack of a cabin somewhere in the middle of the forest in Canada. Waiting and hoping that the end really isn’t coming. Hoping the zombies don’t over run the earth. If the virus doesn’t spread to every last corner of this god forsaken planet, maybe we can hide here. Maybe we can start over.