She's crazy.
Previously...
Even after all this, Jackie insisted on going to work. She's a manager, she said. It was her responsibility.
Jack is more practical. "There is no way in hell I am goin' in today." would be the direct quote.
Couldn't let her go alone, though. And couldn't talk her out of leaving. We compromised.
If it was safe to get to the car, we'd try to go. If anything seemed wrong on the way to work, we'd turn around and go home. She agreed.
Then came logistics. Originally we figured one of us should stay home with the dogs. Problem: we've got about 10 airsoft guns in the house. We've got one REAL gun. Who should have it?
Shit, we'd played D&D (okay, Arcana Evolved) last night. Should have been obvious. Don't split the party. I put on my 'unicorn' voice. "C'mon, Jack! It'll be an adventurrrrre." Black humor. Nervous laughter. I'd take it though - anything to reduce tension a little.
Jack wouldn't hear of leaving the dogs behind, even locked up. It made sense, though. They'll bark at any stranger, and with the hearing the one ... zombie displayed, they might try to break in if we left them behind. We piled them in the back of the car.
I drove. Jack had the gun. It was surreal. The streets are pretty empty at this time of morning. But now they seemed, I don't know. Menacing.
We drove out the back way. I tried to keep us as far from the cemetery as possible. I was watching bushes, trees, behind cars. Defensive driving taken to a whole new level. I saw someone come out behind us, into the road. Zombie? Person? I didn't care, I just floored it.
Turned on the radio. News talking about a sudden increase in crime statewide. Advising people to stay indoors. "That's what we should be doing," said Jack. Jackie didn't say anything, just looked at him. I drove on.
We got to campus. It's not a long drive, but- It felt like another world. Fire engines blocking entrances. A UC Police checkpoint. Campus policy prohibits weapons of any kind. I know it's illegal to drive with a loaded firearm. They didn't bat an eye. Looked us over. Asked our business. Jackie had to find her ID card in her purse, but it seemed like they wanted to let us in.
The Silo seemd like it had become a refugee camp. Food being handled by the regular staff and all (at least that's what Jackie said), but UC police and even fire personnel keeping an eye on things. They put her right to work, offered us some coffee if we wanted. Never liked the stuff, so I said no. Still wasn't sleepy.
I realised. I left my cell phone at home. Some people only have my home number. And more than anything else I think I just wanted to be in the four walls that have become comfortable to me, despite all the crap that goes along wth them sometimes. Jackie had fallen into the rhythm of work, but a look in Jack's eyes and I think he could tell what I was thinking. He was thinking it too. She'd be safe enough here, but we needed to be home. It was our place.
Campus police asked us four times if we were sure we wanted to leave, but didn't stop us. Driving away, I was struck by a thought. The campus was so organised, like it had a plan for this. Maybe there's a reason? Jack said something like "Sure there's a reason. Ever since 2001. They just took the disaster plan, and wrote in 'zombies' instead of 'terrorists'." He's probably right.
Coming home. I'm getting ahead. Driving home. More people on the street. Several in groups, headed to campus. Surely the school would cancel finals? Then again, it's a campus bureaucracy. Probably not. Some singular, shambling. I make turns to avoid them. Curiously, as we get closer to home, there are fewer, not more, like I expect.
Then I see it. The signs of the street sweeper coming by. The water streaks. And the barely cleaned smears of blood on the pavement. Some of the smears are on the sidewalk.
We turn a corner, and I see one. It's on the other side of the road, shambling in our direction. Of course it can't see as the sweeper comes up behind, driving far faster than normal, but it hears it, and turns around.
Just in time to be crushed.
The sweeper driver waves jauntily in our direction as she passes, and I wonder, as we make the turn for home - how many people are going to end up unhinged in other ways because of the events of the day?
We get back into the house without incident. Doors locked. Plenty of food. Only the one pistol, but a good amount of ammunition. I start gathering things to throw, improvise a club, put my Buck knife on my belt. Put the belt on.
Now I've got the shakes. I've been up for too long. Adrenaline is leaving. Jack's had a good night's rest. He can hold the fort.
I make him promise to wake me for anything. I write this.
Can't keep going now, have to collapse.
P.S. Might be something happening in Florida, too. Stay safe out there, people. Take care of each other.
Even after all this, Jackie insisted on going to work. She's a manager, she said. It was her responsibility.
Jack is more practical. "There is no way in hell I am goin' in today." would be the direct quote.
Couldn't let her go alone, though. And couldn't talk her out of leaving. We compromised.
If it was safe to get to the car, we'd try to go. If anything seemed wrong on the way to work, we'd turn around and go home. She agreed.
Then came logistics. Originally we figured one of us should stay home with the dogs. Problem: we've got about 10 airsoft guns in the house. We've got one REAL gun. Who should have it?
Shit, we'd played D&D (okay, Arcana Evolved) last night. Should have been obvious. Don't split the party. I put on my 'unicorn' voice. "C'mon, Jack! It'll be an adventurrrrre." Black humor. Nervous laughter. I'd take it though - anything to reduce tension a little.
Jack wouldn't hear of leaving the dogs behind, even locked up. It made sense, though. They'll bark at any stranger, and with the hearing the one ... zombie displayed, they might try to break in if we left them behind. We piled them in the back of the car.
I drove. Jack had the gun. It was surreal. The streets are pretty empty at this time of morning. But now they seemed, I don't know. Menacing.
We drove out the back way. I tried to keep us as far from the cemetery as possible. I was watching bushes, trees, behind cars. Defensive driving taken to a whole new level. I saw someone come out behind us, into the road. Zombie? Person? I didn't care, I just floored it.
Turned on the radio. News talking about a sudden increase in crime statewide. Advising people to stay indoors. "That's what we should be doing," said Jack. Jackie didn't say anything, just looked at him. I drove on.
We got to campus. It's not a long drive, but- It felt like another world. Fire engines blocking entrances. A UC Police checkpoint. Campus policy prohibits weapons of any kind. I know it's illegal to drive with a loaded firearm. They didn't bat an eye. Looked us over. Asked our business. Jackie had to find her ID card in her purse, but it seemed like they wanted to let us in.
The Silo seemd like it had become a refugee camp. Food being handled by the regular staff and all (at least that's what Jackie said), but UC police and even fire personnel keeping an eye on things. They put her right to work, offered us some coffee if we wanted. Never liked the stuff, so I said no. Still wasn't sleepy.
I realised. I left my cell phone at home. Some people only have my home number. And more than anything else I think I just wanted to be in the four walls that have become comfortable to me, despite all the crap that goes along wth them sometimes. Jackie had fallen into the rhythm of work, but a look in Jack's eyes and I think he could tell what I was thinking. He was thinking it too. She'd be safe enough here, but we needed to be home. It was our place.
Campus police asked us four times if we were sure we wanted to leave, but didn't stop us. Driving away, I was struck by a thought. The campus was so organised, like it had a plan for this. Maybe there's a reason? Jack said something like "Sure there's a reason. Ever since 2001. They just took the disaster plan, and wrote in 'zombies' instead of 'terrorists'." He's probably right.
Coming home. I'm getting ahead. Driving home. More people on the street. Several in groups, headed to campus. Surely the school would cancel finals? Then again, it's a campus bureaucracy. Probably not. Some singular, shambling. I make turns to avoid them. Curiously, as we get closer to home, there are fewer, not more, like I expect.
Then I see it. The signs of the street sweeper coming by. The water streaks. And the barely cleaned smears of blood on the pavement. Some of the smears are on the sidewalk.
We turn a corner, and I see one. It's on the other side of the road, shambling in our direction. Of course it can't see as the sweeper comes up behind, driving far faster than normal, but it hears it, and turns around.
Just in time to be crushed.
The sweeper driver waves jauntily in our direction as she passes, and I wonder, as we make the turn for home - how many people are going to end up unhinged in other ways because of the events of the day?
We get back into the house without incident. Doors locked. Plenty of food. Only the one pistol, but a good amount of ammunition. I start gathering things to throw, improvise a club, put my Buck knife on my belt. Put the belt on.
Now I've got the shakes. I've been up for too long. Adrenaline is leaving. Jack's had a good night's rest. He can hold the fort.
I make him promise to wake me for anything. I write this.
Can't keep going now, have to collapse.
P.S. Might be something happening in Florida, too. Stay safe out there, people. Take care of each other.