Another day, another zombie related post. Today I want to talk about trust. Trust and loyalty.
Who can you trust in a zombie apocalypse? Your friends? Your work colleagues? ‘Killer’ the family dog? How quickly do you think you would turn on people if the circumstances called for it? How long could you stay loyal to somebody?
If you were held up in a building the food running out fast, and the only chance of survival was to horde your own supplies and let the others starve to death…would you do it? Would you leave another person behind if it meant you could escape the grasping, putrid hands of death? Who would you stomp on to ensure your own freedom?
Let’s put this into the form of a story again (because I had fun with it yesterday):
Ok, so you’re on the run, trusty plastic spatula gripped firmly in your hand. You’ve vanquished the zombie horde that was pounding at your front door only moments ago, and barely pausing long enough to wipe the brain goo from Mr. Spatula you flee into the night desperate to seek help – or at the very least a weapon with a bit more GRR to it.
There’s chaos all around you, people battling the undead and crashing into each other in futile attempts to drive the family car through a procession or rotting, yet wildly animated, corpses. A neighbour calls out for help. She’s in her car, surrounded by flesh eaters, but she’s not driving anywhere. Then you spot the reason why, a bunch of keys on the floor a few feet away from the vehicle.
So far the undead haven’t spotted you; they seem far to intent on reaching poor old Gladys, trapped in a steel coffin with wheels. You could probably sneak up behind the zombies and make a grab for the keys, but if they turn around there’s no chance you’ll get away in time. So do you risk your life for the woman that shouts at kids to get off her lawn? The old woman that hands out cough drops instead of good Halloween sweets? She’s old anyway, she won’t survive long in a world like this…but can you sit back and watch her die?
Something touches your leg and you scream in a less than dignified fashion, it’s Bowser your loyal canine friend! But wait…can you really take him with you? Won’t he be a drain on food resources? And he’s hardly going to be able to escape up ladders, and over walls in a tight spot when the zombies come a’ chasing. And what if he barks when you’re hiding somewhere? To Bowser this is all a big game. Keep away from the smelly people.
So you stand there, watching poor old Gladys bouncing about as her car is rocked back and forth by the unrelenting undead. Bowser is sniffing your hand – he wants a treat but he’ll settle for the brain spatter that’s smeared across Mr. Spatula.
What do you do?