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Ike Update
Sep. 18th, 2008 10:43 amHey everybody, brief update from the Sacrificial Zone:
Gas continues to be a problem. The Bellaire Irregulars fortified the crossings over Braes Bayou, so now I can't even get across to barter with the petrol depot. Yesterday I managed to get about sixty gallons by heading south to the cycle encampment at the Stafford Center, ramming the Shelby through a chainlink fence, and making off with a couple of drums before they could get the floodlights on. That trick won't work again, though, so tomorrow we'll need to get clever.
A few words about zombies. You'd expect them to stink, but they don't. Something about the transformation slows or halts the process of decomposition. I figured it would be great if zombies smelled worse, because then you could tell when they're around. Following up on this, I have set out some calf brains doped with ethyl mercaptan, and already the undead are gathering. We'll see how well that works, and maybe consider this a pilot program.
Hey, speaking of calves, a little Ike humor: did you hear that when Galveston was swamped in the storm surge, the only creatures left alive were some cattle that managed to swim through the night? Which just goes to show that if you're ever in a hurricane, there's only one smart thing to do: GET ON A COW. Ha ha, I heard that one from a looter down in Sharpstown! Had to shoot him.
The kids are doing great. I'm teaching Eric to throw a stainless steel boomerang. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, but when the cycle gangs find us, it might come in useful. Katherine just loves to trap rats. Give that kid a coffee can and some bacon fat and she's a rodent-harvesting machine! She still won't skin or fillet the things, but, you know, baby steps.
I've said it before a hundred times, but: FEMA sucks. I think it's great that they're maintaining the quarantine barrier around the Sacrificial Zone, keeping the outbreak from getting into the rest of the United States and everything. You'd think they could be a little more competent about it, though. I'm sure the two hundred yard No-Man's-Land in front of the barrier walls is kept nice and clean, with napalm dropped on anything that moves, but do you think they're doing anything about the ocean exit? I mean, lots of zombies surely got washed out to sea in the storm, and I'm sure they can just walk on the ocean floor to anyplace they want to go. You'd have thought they'd have learned a few lessons from Katrina.
Anywway, thanks for all the well-wishes and stuff. Mom, we got the cookies and the flares -- thanks! We're all doing fine here. I'm sure all this catastrophic end-of-the-world business will be over soon enough, and then we can all have a good laugh. P.S. my fantasy football team is 2-0, woo woo!
Gas continues to be a problem. The Bellaire Irregulars fortified the crossings over Braes Bayou, so now I can't even get across to barter with the petrol depot. Yesterday I managed to get about sixty gallons by heading south to the cycle encampment at the Stafford Center, ramming the Shelby through a chainlink fence, and making off with a couple of drums before they could get the floodlights on. That trick won't work again, though, so tomorrow we'll need to get clever.
A few words about zombies. You'd expect them to stink, but they don't. Something about the transformation slows or halts the process of decomposition. I figured it would be great if zombies smelled worse, because then you could tell when they're around. Following up on this, I have set out some calf brains doped with ethyl mercaptan, and already the undead are gathering. We'll see how well that works, and maybe consider this a pilot program.
Hey, speaking of calves, a little Ike humor: did you hear that when Galveston was swamped in the storm surge, the only creatures left alive were some cattle that managed to swim through the night? Which just goes to show that if you're ever in a hurricane, there's only one smart thing to do: GET ON A COW. Ha ha, I heard that one from a looter down in Sharpstown! Had to shoot him.
The kids are doing great. I'm teaching Eric to throw a stainless steel boomerang. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, but when the cycle gangs find us, it might come in useful. Katherine just loves to trap rats. Give that kid a coffee can and some bacon fat and she's a rodent-harvesting machine! She still won't skin or fillet the things, but, you know, baby steps.
I've said it before a hundred times, but: FEMA sucks. I think it's great that they're maintaining the quarantine barrier around the Sacrificial Zone, keeping the outbreak from getting into the rest of the United States and everything. You'd think they could be a little more competent about it, though. I'm sure the two hundred yard No-Man's-Land in front of the barrier walls is kept nice and clean, with napalm dropped on anything that moves, but do you think they're doing anything about the ocean exit? I mean, lots of zombies surely got washed out to sea in the storm, and I'm sure they can just walk on the ocean floor to anyplace they want to go. You'd have thought they'd have learned a few lessons from Katrina.
Anywway, thanks for all the well-wishes and stuff. Mom, we got the cookies and the flares -- thanks! We're all doing fine here. I'm sure all this catastrophic end-of-the-world business will be over soon enough, and then we can all have a good laugh. P.S. my fantasy football team is 2-0, woo woo!
