{"id":482,"date":"2013-09-23T00:09:51","date_gmt":"2013-09-23T05:09:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jeezjosie.com\/blog\/?p=482"},"modified":"2013-09-07T00:22:12","modified_gmt":"2013-09-07T05:22:12","slug":"nothing-here-for-us","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/jeezjosie.com\/blog\/2013\/09\/nothing-here-for-us\/","title":{"rendered":"Nothing Here For Us"},"content":{"rendered":"

      Today\u2019s snippet, titled \u201cNothing Here For Us\u201d, is a piece I wrote about an NPC in Paul’s new Zombie Campaign (using GURPS for Session One, but we’re moving to All Flesh Must Be Eaten for future sessions. The intention behind this was to recap events occurring in the world, from the point-of-view of my PC, Helen Poots.
\n      Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
\n– \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 –
\n      \tBang! BANG! Bang! BANG!<\/em>
\n      \t\u201cAlready? God, you twats, let a lady sleep!\u201d
\n      \tHelen pulled the sides of the pillow up around her ears and flipped over, trying to block out the sound of construction. She was done with physical labor for a day or two. Yesterday\u2019s shitty – literally – adventures had drained her utterly.
\n      \tEventually, she rose and washed and dressed. Her work for the day included making another round of inventories with Alphonse and Tammy, plus trying to conduct a census to get a feel for the numbers they were working with.
\n      \t\u201cIt\u2019ll be important to really work the numbers,\u201d Al said. \u201cWe will have to ration for the whole group and we can\u2019t estimate properly without reliable data.\u201d
\n      \tRight<\/em>, Helen rolled her eyes at Al\u2019s back. His slumped posture always seemed to improve a bit when he was working with Helen and Tammy – perhaps they did not quelch his spirit quite as quickly as his wife. There\u2019s nothing more important for surviving a fucking apocalypse than reliable fucking data.<\/em>
\n      \tBy the time she crawled into bed that night, Helen could not care if she never saw another grid-line inventory sheet or can of Campbell\u2019s Cream of Mushroom soup again. Day Ten<\/em>, she thought, closing her eyes. I\u2019m glad to see the end of you.<\/em>
\n

* * *<\/center>
\n      \t\u201cBring me to liiiiiife.\u201d
\n      \tHelen growled. \u201cIts too bloody early for old Evanescence, duck, turn that down.\u201d
\n      \tStill Amy Lee sang on and Helen groaned, sitting up. I always hated that bloody song. It- Wait – there\u2019s power this morning? <\/em>
\n      \tImmediately, she plugged her iPad in and watched the green charge bar flash as it began to retain all that juicy energy. When it was full, she swapped it out for her phone and let that charge as well. In the bathroom, she switched out the MP3 player with her own and tapped to start her favorite song, Fleetwood Mac\u2019s Tusk<\/u>. Bopping along, she brushed her teeth with bottled water and the soft, flattering pinkish light made her skin look so healthy and normal that she couldn\u2019t help herself. She spent the extra time to doll herself up – to don the warpaint, as her friend Amy used to say.
\n      \tIt was about 8:30 when she took a seat at a table in the common area. Victoria surprised her by coming up behind her with a hug. It was cooler this morning than it had been and when Aleksandra brought out steaming mugs of coffee – it tasted divine.
\n      \t\u201cWe are going to go rescue whomever is trapped in that airport,\u201d she said matter-of-factly. \u201cBode is getting his monstrosity ready. What do you need, Helen?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cYou sure look pretty, this morning, honey,\u201d Ezra said, and yawned. \u201cForgive me, you all, but this chick has got to get some rest. Sal, honey, will you take the day shift since Aleksandra is heading out today?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cSure,\u201d Salvatore said, \u201cI can sit at the tent today.\u201d
\n      \tEzra smiled and patted his hand. She was wearing bright pink eyeliner today, with turquoise eye shadow and blue mascara. Helen supposed that if she had such rich coloring, she might be able to pull off all those neon hues, but she doubted she would. She wasn\u2019t fifteen anymore.
\n      \tWhen she finished her coffee, Helen stood and looked around for Alex and Bode and Victoria. Ah, there they are. And Alex is definitely chatting up Cooper, whether she intends to or not. This is happening. Hah!<\/em>
\n      \tHelen approached the Corporal and his harem, her hands her back pockets, and paused a few steps away, just listening.
\n      \t\u201c…is it really? A grenade launcher?\u201d Victoria was asking. \u201cCan I touch it?\u201d
\n      \tSnorting, Helen placed a hand on Victoria\u2019s shoulder. \u201cYou ought not touch a man\u2019s gun, duck, unless you\u2019re looking to touch a man\u2019s other weapon. And if you do, don\u2019t you forget your condoms, yeah?\u201d
\n      \tShe tried to conceal her smile when the girl\u2019s face flushed and she flung her hands into the air. \u201cI don\u2019t bloody need CONDOMS to learn to shoot a GRENADE LAUNCHER, Helen! God!\u201d
\n      \tCooper cleared his throat and excused himself. Aleksandra put an arm around the girl\u2019s shoulder and led her toward Bode\u2019s garage. She was playing the part of sympathetic \u2018cool Aunt\u2019 to Helen\u2019s mortifying \u2018Embarrassing Mother\u2019. Helen didn\u2019t mind; she knew the girl would forgive her soon enough and besides, there were so few pleasures left in this ruined world, she couldn\u2019t possibly pass up such an opportunity to tease Victoria.
\n      \tThe plan was simple. They were going to let Bode enter the airport grounds first, turn on all seven of his Evisceratus\u2019 mowers, and lead the deaders far from the shed. Then the three ladies would swoop in with Helen\u2019s Lexus, bust down the doors if neccessary, and escort who ever was in there, out. Simple.
\n      \tAnd it worked well enough, for once. Those brainless bastards trudged along after the noisy machine, shuffling and stumbling all the way. As soon as they were far enough away, Alex maneuvered the SUV into position and Helen moved to open the door so she could leap out and knock on the door.
\n      \tBefore she could set foot on the tarmac, the door burst open and a sweaty, blood-soaked man in a rumpled suit dashed out and slammed into the car.
\n      \t\u201cLet me in, let me in!\u201d he cried, scrabbling at the back driver\u2019s side door.
\n      \t\u201cUnlock the doors, Alex!\u201d Victoria was bouncing in her seat. \u201cHurry, hurry!\u201d
\n      \t\u201cWho are you?\u201d Helen demanded, her grip on her knife so tight that her knuckles had gone white. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name? Who else is inside?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cI- I-\u201d he stammered. \u201cI\u2019m Alex, a lawyer. I- there\u2019s no one else. Just me! Let me in.\u201d
\n      \tThe door opened and he climbed inside. Helen frowned. There was something about him she did not like – perhaps it was just because she could smell the attorney on him. She opened her own door and slid out.
\n      \t\u201cWhat are you doing, Helen?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cI have to be sure. I\u2019m going in.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cWait- what?\u201d
\n      \tBut she was already gone, dashing across the tarmac with her flashlight in one hand and the knife in the other. She pushed inside the door and nearly vomited; there was shit, literal shit!, everywhere. The poor bastard must have been in here the whole time, shitting and- eating the fucking paperwork? What the hell? <\/em>She buried her face in her shoulder and made a run for the exit. There was no one else inside, no bodies, nothing incriminating. Just a poor fellow who had been trapped for days and was probably half-mad from it all.
\n      \tEzra had not slept much and when they returned with Alex the Lawyer, who Helen took to calling Sam to differentiate between he and Doctor Alex, she immediately joined Sal in treating their new friend.
\n      \t\u201cExhaustion, dehydration, extreme hunger. Oh honey, you\u2019ll be fine. Soon as we get you hosed off and fed, anyway. C\u2019mon with Sal and me, honey, we\u2019ll get you fixed up.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cThat was a disappointment,\u201d Bode said, picking his teeth. \u201cFigured maybe we\u2019d find a pilot or something.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cYeah, or a hot chick or two.\u201d Scooter had the courtesy to cringe when Helen and Aleksandra glowered at him. \u201cHey, I\u2019d save \u2018em even if they were ugly.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cYou know,\u201d Aleksandra said, pointedly ignoring Scooter. \u201cWe should check out the High School.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cThat was my idea, Doc,\u201d Bode said, \u201cAnd its a good one.\u201d
\n      \tAnd then came the arguing. Logistics, transportation, weaponry, strategy. Helen tuned it out. They would let her know what to do and when, when they were ready for her. Until then, she returned to the Honeywell house for food and water.
\n      \t\u201cWe\u2019re going to take bikes, Helen!\u201d
\n      \tShe looked up from her book and smiled at Victoria. \u201cYou mean they finally decided?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cYep. C\u2019mon, get your jacket and boots on, let\u2019s go!\u201d
\n      \tHelen could not manage to match the girl\u2019s level of enthusiasm, though she had to admit she sort of smugly enjoyed the way a few of the others looked jealous that she was going out on a run. When the Lendsoller girl pouted a bit and told her mother, within Helen\u2019s hearing, that if Ms. Poots and the Honeywell girl were old enough and capable enough to join in the supply hunt, so was she, Helen cast a wink down at Victoria. \u201cTo the High School this afternoon, is it, duck?\u201d
\n      \t\u201cMm-hmm,\u201d she said and tugged on the waist of her jacket. \u201cGotta see what is going on in the area, that\u2019s what buttface-Bode and the other guys were saying.\u201d
\n      \tButtface Bode? Tsk, such language, duck. Though I cannot admonish you for it – he really can be quite a\u2026 buttface\u2026 at times.<\/em>
\n      \tThe ride was further than Helen had anticipated and she was sweating like a pig on the spit before they reached the High School.
\n      \t\u201cOh, fuck.\u201d
\n      \tNever were more eloquent words spoken, to Helen\u2019s mind. The high school grounds had previously been rife with FEMA tents and people camped out thinking there was safety in numbers. There had been fire engines and ambulances and police everywhere trying to guard what must have been a quarter of New Cumberland\u2019s population.
\n      \tNow, there were smoking remnants and what Sal referred to as crispy critters. Most of those were laying in heaps around the blackened tents, but some horrifically burned people – dead, naturally, but still walking around – were looking for food.
\n      \t\u201cThank God we\u2019re downwind,\u201d Helen said to Victoria. \u201cThat many of them following us back would be a total clusterfuck.\u201d
\n      \t\u201cTotal.\u201d Victoria nodded, dumbstruck by the horrors in front of them.
\n      \tBlood had sprayed across one of the fire engines and walkers milled around the building. They were not pressed up against it, not trying to get in to get at the tasty, beating-hearts within, which made Helen quite positive that there was no one left alive in there.
\n      \t\u201cLet us go back,\u201d Alex said. \u201cThere is nothing for us here, da?\u201d
\n      \tAs they pedaled back, Bode talked about finally going door-to-door on the block – and then strategically through homes around it – looking for supplies and stuff.
\n      \t\u201cWe can get to a few around Maple Lane yet this afternoon, make sure we don\u2019t have any walkers hanging around our area.\u201d
\n      \tThe rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Helen was numb to the horrors today; nothing could phase her. Not finding that one of their neighbors had opted out days ago. Not finding out that the virus – or whatever it was – had spread to animals after all. Nothing.
\n      \tHelen curled up in her bed – no, not my bed. Damn it, I miss my bed<\/em> – and closed her eyes. Nothing about the day was worth remembering and she wondered if there ever would be anything good, anything joyful, or fun, or memorable in a pleasant way.
\n      \tSomehow, I doubt it. Fuck you, day eleven. Fuck you\u2026<\/em>
\n– \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 \u2013 –
\n\"Signed,
\nNote: Image is “camp” by Filou from SXC.hu<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      Today\u2019s snippet, titled \u201cNothing Here For Us\u201d, is a piece I wrote about an NPC in Paul’s new Zombie Campaign (using GURPS for Session One, but we’re moving to All Flesh Must Be Eaten for future sessions. The intention behind this was to recap events occurring in the world, from the point-of-view… <\/p>\n

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