Let's start with an unrevised preview of my current work in progress, a satirical zombie novella titled This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things During the Zombie Apocalypse
Yay! It finally happened – the zombie apocalypse broke out. I knew it would. All my friends knew it’d happen. I mean, how could it not considering what we eat and how we treat the planet. So, I wasn’t surprised two days ago when the news reported on the outbreak. Though I’d never admit it to anyone, I was excited at first. I had planned this out in my mind for years – I would team up with either Chris Pratt, Chris Evans, or Chris Pines and hunt zombies. Once we had killed off all the living dead, we would then start to repopulate the planet. It had been my favorite fantasy.
Instead, I get to experience the zompoc with my family.
Okay, that’s mean. They’re not as bad as all that. They love me and treat me okay but, well, they’re my family.
My dad is decent enough – at least he tries to be. He means well, but the constant dad jokes get tiring. That’s really the only bad thing I can say about him. He’s pretty decent to us, trying to strike a balance between having a good time and instilling us with what he calls “traditional values” – hard work, integrity, loyalty. Only a few times has he come down hard on us which, in truth, we deserved. He’s done a good job raising us three kids by himself (Mom died in a car crash when I was two). Dad works from home as a freelance writer for a survivalist magazine. Not that he’s a prepper. He always talks about a hurricane that nearly wiped out New Orleans years ago and tells us it’s better to be safe than sorry. I always teased him about being paranoid. I guess I owe him an apology.
The prepper title goes to my older brother CK (his real name is Charles Kenneth, but everyone calls him by his initials). He’s the hardcore survivalist; he’s been that way since he graduated high school five years ago. CK bought the house across the street from us – the one on the hill – because it had a good cross fire, or something like that. Since then, he’s turned the house into a fortress, building an underground shelter stocked with a six-month supply of dried food and enough guns and ammunition to fight off a small country. If that’s not bad enough, he acts like a super soldier (CK never served in the military because he doesn’t like taking orders). A couple of months ago we all watched Red Dawn. I thought it was fun movie, lots of action, and Chris Hemsworth was cute; CK took notes throughout the movie. He’s always telling me and my sister than we’re snowflakes that’ll never survive the heat of battle.
With my sister, he’s probably right. Cameron is a bit of an airhead. She’s a senior in high school (two years ahead of me) and barely passing. My friends say she gets by on her looks and her personality; I don’t get it, though. Yeah, she’s pretty. But personable? Cameron has no real friends, at least none that come over to the house. And while she has plenty of dates, she’s never had a boyfriend who has stayed around for more than a few weeks. She’s glued to her cell phone listening to music, texting on-line friends, playing games, and watching YouTube videos. She’s gonna freak out when the cell phone service goes down.
And of course, there’s our two dogs, Boxers named Luke and Leia (yes, Dad is a huge Star Wars fan). They are loveable and protective but are not the brightest pups from the litter. Leia barks at everything – the mail truck, the school bus, squirrels, birds, the neighbor’s cat. Luke is much more laid back and is completely devoted to Dad; he follows him around the house all day, curls up by his desk when he writes, and even sleeps cuddled up with him in bed at night.
Enough writing for now. I want to watch the live coverage of the apocalypse.