Learning · to · Write

Mr. Wizard died at age 89.

OK, there's not really anything tragic about dying at 89. We should all be so lucky to live such a long life. But, still. Watching Mr. Wizard's World when I was a kid inspired me to do science experiments of my own. In fact, my ninth birthday was all science stuff: a chemistry set, a hand boiler, a crystal-growing set... all because I was so enamored with how accessible Mr. Wizard made science.

Thank you, Don Herbert. I may not be a scientist, but I still think pinhole cameras are cool.

My mom works at the UPS Store in town, next to a Publix grocery store. She just called to tell me that she'd gone to the market on her break to pick up a salad for lunch. The whole produce section is cordoned off, and all the bins were being emptied by guys in hazmat suits. So, she asked a passing stocker what was going on.

He said that yesterday they'd gotten the usual shipment of oranges, leafy greens, tomatoes and whatnot from their supplier out in the Dixon, California area, and all the produce guys stocked the bins like normal. By last night, three of the produce handlers had to be taken to the ER. They were all exhibiting symptoms of necrotizing fasciitis. Well, that's what they found out, anyway. At first, the doctors thought it was meningitis, since three of them had it (and meningitis is highly contagious), but they later determined it was actually the necrotizing fasciitis.

Two of the guys died during the early hours this morning, and the third is in critical condition. The store is emptying the produce section, and has issued a general recall to the community on all produce sold at the store yesterday. Who knows how many people bought potentially contaminated produce? This could be bad....

underpope has reported an outbreak where he lives, and bonniers says bad things are going down in her area, too. What in the world is going on?

Mom called again. Someone from the Publix bakery came into the UPS Store to buy some stamps, so Mom asked her what was going on. They got word just a bit ago that the third produce department worker died. Also, it seems the California farms supply some of the produce to three other grocery stores in town. I've had the news on, but NOTHING is coming through on the local stations yet. I've heard the ambulance screaming by on the road outside our subdivision twice, so far. Something is definitely happening.

Worse, the first guy who died this morning evidently showed up to work two hours late today--in uniform, with a morgue tag on his toe.

I'm suddenly VERY glad I happened to buy my husband The Zombie Survival Guide for his birthday. I told Mom she should go home, but she doesn't want to leave the store unmanned. I hope she doesn't suffer for her loyalty.

Taking a break from the scary goings-on to wish slobbit a Happy Birthday! I hope the infestation doesn't put a dent in your day. :)

Sorry for the long delay in an update. Things in my neck of the woods are grim. I didn't hear from my mom for a long time. I tried to call her at work, to make sure she was ok. She answered the phone, but right she said "hello" I heard glass breaking and metal screeching, like something was ripping the mailboxes right out of the wall. She said, "Sir, can I help you? Really, I have a key, sir." And then the line went dead. I haven't been able to get a hold of her since.

The bad produce was purchased and consumed by too many people. They got the recall out too late. Lucky for us, I did my grocery shopping last week. But a lot of my neighbors have not been so fortunate. The old man across the street from me was walking his dachshund, Curly, this afternoon like normal. He wandered over into the road, and a guy on a motorcycle hit him. OMG, it was awful. The motorcycle spun out and my neighbor, Mr. Bill was laying on the pavement. His right arm was totally ripped out. Poor Curly stood there kind of baying over Mr. Bill, and licked his face. Then, Mr. Bill, GOT UP, and picked up his right arm (which was holding Curly's leash) with his left and kept on walking! The motorcyclist wasn't so lucky. But then, maybe he was.

They've been shuffling around the neighborhood, but the eeriest thing is the herd of goats that sometimes go by my back fence when they escape their pen. I guess they got some bad lettuce or something, because, well... goats aren't supposed to look at you like that, if you know what I mean. One of the bigger billy goats put his feet up on the fence. He sometimes does that, to reach the leaves on our hedge, but he wasn't looking at the leaves. He was looking at the boys. I screamed at them to come in, and I went for my PPK. It wasn't pleasant and it doesn't smell good out back, but at least there's no more of that unnatural baa-ing going on out there.

The electricity has been flickering on and off all day. I wonder what's going on at the power station. I don't think zombies at the controls of a nuclear reactor can be anything but bad.

I hope my husband can get home from work ok (Or not... I don't know whether I should let him in!) I hope my mom somehow got out of there. I hope this is all over soon. I've only got a few pork chops in the freezer and a few canned vegetables. We'll be in trouble if this lasts more than a day or two.

Shit, five teenagers just came out of the house on the corner, shuffling around with blank eyes. Zombie behavior, or normal teen stupidity? Either way, I've gotta go find that other magazine. I hope everyone is doing ok. Thinking of you all...

Extremely.

Quiet.

You've asked about my mother, and I frankly don't know. No one has gotten in touch with her since I last spoke to her. I can only fear the worst at this point.

All hell broke lose about 7:00 this evening. Jason barely made it home. Frankly, I almost didn't let him in. Fortunately, I referred to the section in The Zombie Survival Guide that talks about identifying zombies. It says to ask a person if they're a zombie. If they're able to respond, then they're not. So, Jason got a pass.

He had a harrowing story to tell. The traffic getting onto I-126 out of Columbia was all backed up. The entrance ramp runs alongside Elmwood Cemetery, you see, where Columbia has been burying the dead for well over a century. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happened. You've seen what's happening all over, no use to reiterate gruesome details.

Anyway, he finally managed to back off the ramp and find an alternate route home.

About 7:00, there was an emergency signal on the tv, and the local station started broadcasting these awful pictures of downtown Columbia. Zombies everywhere. The police had given up. Ft. Jackson sent over a few tanks, but they were overtaken. The zombies surrounded them and flipped them over. The poor soldiers inside were trapped like canned sardines, just waiting for the lid to be peeled back to make a tasty snack for these monsters. The station went out not long after that. I heard distant rumbles in the distance, like thunder. But it wasn't cloudy. Something was blown up, or bombed. I don't know which.

The neighborhood across from ours is burning. Now that the sun is down, the sky is orange.

And quiet. So quiet.

The children are in bed. Jason packed up his guns and said he was going to make sure we were safe. I don't know how much he can do, by himself. I haven't heard any gunshots, just the occasional shuffling outside, so I don't think he's taken any down. Thank goodness our house hasn't been attacked. Some others have been. How long can we hold out, even if we make it through the night?

Wait, there's a knocking at the door now--a thudding? It's hard to tell. I hope it's Jason. I'd better go and see. I'm taking the frying pan, just in case. Let's all hope for a brighter day tomorrow.