Memoirs of an Ex-Zombie
Purple haze. It’s all a purple haze in my brain, man.
It’s hard to think of before, when the end of the world came and the infection spread. People screaming and dying, being chased by these zombies, cars exploding, governments collapsing – it all sounds like one hell of a bad B-movie.
Personally, I didn’t give a shit then. I was in a world of my own smoking my grass and just cruising through life, you know? But then I got bitten by this half-assed zombie while trying to score and next thing I know, I was becoming a zombie myself. One moment I was alive, the next I was dead and mad-on against the next guy.
But here’s the funny: I wasn’t really “dead”, more like “brain-dead”. They called ‘em “zombies” on account of some kid screaming at TV reporters in the early days and it spread.
But the docs said it was more like the upper functions of the infected’s brains had shut down even though all the body functions were running on full tilt. Me, I thought they shoulda been called ‘Deadheads’ on account of their brains shutting down. But the Grateful Dead people would probably’ve sued my ass off.
The other funny thing? Hell, I do grass, man. But the reason this whole shitload of trouble came up is because of some coke from South America that really fucked us up. I don’t touch that cocaine stuff but I still got infected.
Blame it on the Colombians and the US government. The US was testing some kinda new herbicide that was going to shrivel up the coca leaves in South America. The damn thing didn’t take – and the side effects were even worse. Somehow, the cocaine that was taken from those sprayed fields upped the hit a thousand times stronger and turned their users into raving maniacs.
The scary shit about it was that it easily spread. The docs called a “convergence of vectors”: some dude with the swine flu or the common cold got the infection, it got swished around, and out came a nasty piece of infection that hit those who got attacked a 100% chance of becoming just like their attackers via “fluid transmission”.
So Colombia went down like Oscar dela Hoya, followed by the rest of South America, and the infection started to head northward. Thanks to international flights, the infection also began popping up all over the world, including the Philippines.
Huh, I still remember the first report of infected at the NAIA, it was some seaman named Luisito Delgado. The immigration officers didn’t know what hit them. By then, it was all over the place. Can you imagine it?
And you know what was really bad about the infection? Sure, your brain may’ve been turned off but you were still aware of what your body was doing.
The docs don’t like that idea. They say the infected were “thankfully, fully unconscious of their actions” and that “it was a blank phase in their memory”. Bullshit. We knew what we were doing but we were all in a purple haze and feeling too good to be bothered by what was happening around us.
And in the end, that was really mattered – especially when they found the cure for the infection. That was the kicker, man. That they managed to save the world from the zombie apocalypse and changed back all of those who were infected – except for those who were really dead, of course.
But you know what? I wish they’d left the world burning.
I looked up the statistics and 20% of the world’s population got killed, either by zombies or in the fighting in the wake of the spread of the infection. But another 10% died AFTER the antidote had been given out.
Like I said before, we were aware of what we were doing when we were zombies. So when they cured us, we could still remember being monsters. Do you know how much it takes to be able to live with that for the rest of your life?
That’s why most of those who survived being a zombie ended up killing themselves to take away the taste of blood and flesh of people in their mouths. Some things you just can’t live with.