Yasmine Albanna

Ms. Theresia Pratiwi

English 272, section 0401

24 September 2015

The End of the World and Other Trivialities

The Apocalypse happened at 3:10 PM Eastern Standard Time on a Sunday in the middle

of June.

This was an incredibly convenient time for an apocalypse to occur, as quite a lot of

people were relaxing at home and were therefore able to receive the news comfortably via TV

and social media feeds.

The CEO of a cooperation (that would prefer to remain unnamed) was reportedly caught

saying: “This is the biggest fucking day of news we will ever get! You better send every

goddamn news team we got! Anyone who complains is outta here! Call the coverage exclusive!”

Some say he then preceded to “make it rain” with the cash he had on hand, but this has never

been confirmed.

The rising of the undead had been surprisingly sudden, making reports of the hows and

whys of the event a little bit sketchy. But after the initial surprise had died down, areas

concentrated with the undead were soon surrounded by law enforcement officials, and—when

available—the military forces of their respective nations. The skies were also filled with news

helicopters, which captured the attacks and their inevitable bloody aftermath with a glee that

only money can inspire.

Individual journalists took the opportunity to spread the news themselves. Within minutes

of the first few zombie-related deaths, phones were out and recording events from all over the

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globe. A popular video-sharing app created a “Zombie Apocalypse” event, which filled up in

seconds. It is estimated that more people died because they refused to stop filming than because

they were caught by surprise near the graveyards.

Of course, after Internet services and cable went down due to the chaos of death and

destruction, the world went back to a more appropriate post-Apocalyptic state. However, it is

uncontestable that the Earth’s zombie Apocalypse was one of the most well-documented

cataclysmic events of all time.

Alia Alamiri got the news of the Apocalypse in a convenience store.

Granted, it wasn’t a very impressive place to get life-shattering news, but there was food

within easy reach.

That was actually the first thought that Alia had when she saw the net exploding with the

news: Thank God we’re in the place with the food and the tampons.

Sarah (Alia’s roommate and best friend) went for the more traditional freak-out, gasping

loudly and attracting the attention of the other four-odd people in the store.

“What the hell?” She shrieked, “Let’s get the hell out of here and back home! Shit, shit,

shit!”

Alia looked out of the window, admittedly a little dazed. “We can’t.”

Sarah followed her gaze to the approaching shuffling figures on the horizon. Someone in

the back of the store screeched and a buzz of panic filled the room.

The zombies were approaching fast. Studies have shown that on average, people tend to

run faster after reanimation.

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 The panic in the store elevated sharply. All nine people (cashier included) huddled at the

back, some clutching various heavy objects. Alia herself opted for a frying pan. There was a

distinct smell of urine in the air, but nobody mentioned it.

The zombies were perilously close to the windows. They could be seen in the tiny gaps in

the door. Light was dimming in the store thanks to their shadows in the window and doors. They

continued to walk forward and began to bump into the glass and wood of the door. The air

seemed to thin as everyone held a collective breath, then—

Silence.

The store’s patrons stared at the window. The zombies stared back, looking as close to

confused as the undead ever got.

Nobody moved for a beat.

Alia was the first to find her voice. “Now what?”

“How about we take a risk and run for it?” The dark-haired cashier, whose nametag

identified her as Sydney, asked.

“Not a chance!” A large, pasty, well-dressed twenty-something pushed his glasses further

up his nose. “Haven’t you ever seen The Walking Dead? Night of the Living Dead? Dawn of the

Dead? The Mist, even? You leave, you die. Them’s the rules.”

Alia peered at him suspiciously “That’s a lot more ‘dead’ than I happen to be comfortable

with.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’re just…standing there!” Sydney exclaimed. “Aren’t they

supposed to be a lot more violent?”

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 The man glanced back at the shop window. “I think they’re confused.” He said. “Doesn’t

seem like they’ve figured out the doors part yet. Hell, this didn’t even happen on Shaun of the

Dead.”

He pulled out his phone, excited to capture the moment.

“Gary, Jesus!” The third unknown patron said. “It’s not the time to film anything for your

stupid movie, okay?”

“But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Sam!” Gary switched his phone to selfie

mode. “Say hi, guys!”

“Hello? Did everyone forget the zombies outside?” Sydney screeched.

Alia thought: “I’m surrounded by dipshits”.

It was a rough few weeks after that.

The zombies didn’t move. Or, to be more specific, the danger they presented didn’t

change. Every time some wandered off, more would arrive to take their place. In a way, being

stuck in the place they were was a good thing. If nothing else, the non-dead spectators were able

to witness several cases of death-by-stubborn-refusal-to-stop-filming. By all accounts, these

encounters were amusing to those with strong stomachs and gallows humor. Alia had both,

thankfully. It also helped to distract her from the dipshits who she was stuck surviving with.

The only person who seemed to have any sense of the group was Mike, an older Asian man who

looked like a grad student of some sort. He didn’t really say much. At all.

He made the perfect Apocalypse companion.

The others: not so much. Once everybody had gotten around to the idea that the zombies

weren’t going to attack the store, it turned chaotic for a while. Sam, who had never read Lord of

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the Flies, proclaimed himself de facto leader of the group due to his status as an undergrad

Government and Politics major. Gary dissented, claiming that as the zombie expert, he was most

suited to make major decisions in this particular situation. After a brief skirmish (that ironically

involved the tossing around of some pork chops and a hat with a pig on it) it was decided that the

leader of the group should be chosen through a fair, democratic election via a show of hands.

Gary won, and was inordinately pleased about it for a few days after that. (He also won the

movie rights, and continued gleefully capturing the experience on his phone.)

The rest of the group (Sydney, Alia, Sarah, and Mike) was then subjected to a week’s

intensive training of “how to survive the apocalypse”. However, it came across as more of

“zombie movie trivia” mixed with “I played this video game once” and left the majority of

students confused and with mixed messages:

“Wait, didn’t you say yesterday that zombies had to be killed with a shot to the head?”

“Nope, full decapitation is the only thing that works. If you’re decapitating something,

shooting it becomes sort of moot.”

“That makes zero sense. Both are destroying its brain function, so why shouldn’t a shot to

the head work if decapitation does?”

“Well, Sydney, do you see any ammo in here?”

“That’s irrelevant! In theory, shouldn’t shooting something in the head to kill it serve a

similar purpose to decapitation? How would you know all this, anyway? Have you tested it?”

“Yeah? Well have you watched 28 Days Later sixteen times?”

And so on.

Throughout the initial weeks and training, for her part, Alia sat quietly in the back with

Mike. She would quietly digest all the information and toss in a question, observation or pun

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(why not?) or two. Sarah was glued to her phone in the corner. She was eternally searching for

news, of any sort: statistics of death, safe zones, survivors, and the like:

“Hey, did you know that it’s like this all over the world too? It’s not just us. We’re doing

a lot better than some of these other places.”

“Hey, they fired the CEO of [redacted] for using this to get more money.”

“Did you know that the Prime Minister of the UK ordered an evacuation? He’s got his

shit together. Thanks, Obama. No wait, we were evacuated, we just did it a little too late.”

“It says here that you have to destroy the brain to kill a zombie.” “Told you!”

“Hey, Alia! Remember Khirad? From STAT100? She survived; she’s on the Zombie

Apocalypse Snapchat story! Whoa, she’s pretty close to that…never mind. Ew.”

“They’ve shut down all flights, guys. We’re stuck here for now. Well, even more then we

already were.”

“They’re predicting that the Internet’s going to shut down soon. Damn it.”

“Hey, did you know that there are 160 calories in a Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino? Alia,

remember that, remind me not to drink any more of those.”

Ad nauseum.

And so, when the Internet went out, Sarah was next to useless for a few days. Gary put

her in charge of food distribution, and that kept her busy for the next few weeks.

They became a strange little family: a clear chain of command with Gary and Sam

making the executive decisions, Sydney and Sarah being vocal dissenters and/or contributors,

and Alia and Mike quietly and passively interacting in the background.

The zombies, however, were still out there—and growing progressively smarter, as

demonstrated one month into the invasion.

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 -

It had started out as any day in Casa Convenience Store did: waking up to the sounds of

undead fingers scratching on doors, a breakfast of Rice Krispie Treats and bottled Starbucks

Mocha Frappuccinos, one scintillating round of toss the Tic-Tacs in the trash. Gary was, as

always, waxing poetic about his upcoming zombie movie, with all the usual “it’s going to be

epic, you guys,” and “I’ll give you all parts of the writing cred if you want; we’re going to be

famous!” and “We are going to kill it at ComicCon this year. All other cosplay will suck hard.”

Mike was sitting four feet from the door, hugging his knees up to his chest as he was

wont to do. The normal routine would consist of him sitting there for a few hours before getting

up to quietly join the rest of the group. Sydney suggested that this was his way of helping the

others out. Sam insisted that he was engaging in staring contests with the zombies. Nobody could

agree on who was right.

On this particular day, however, Mike did not remain the silent guardian for very long.

After two hours, he sprang up suddenly and began to scurry away from the door. Surprised, the

group stared at him, and then followed his eye line towards the door.

The handle was twisting, very slowly, towards the right, the door beginning to swing

open with it.

After a tense moment of silence and shock, Alia sprang forward, slammed the door shut,

and turned the lock. The zombie standing opposite her seemed to blink in confusion and

continued to work on the door handle.

“Goddamn,” Gary announced, his voice a mixture of excitement and relief. “That beauty

was straight from fucking Jurassic Park.”

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 Tensions rose after that. According to Alia’s completely accurate statistical rendering,

arguments increased by about 200%, stress levels by 300%, and blaming of literally everyone

else by a whopping 500%. Of course, the perpetually dwindling food supplies and toilet paper

did not help matters in the least.

Alia had been particularly pleased with herself for being the hero of the day, but of

course this did not give her a free pass from the blame game. Her most frequent attacker: Sarah.

By the third day of being on the receiving end of snide comments and insults, Alia had had

enough.

“You are such a passive loser. I’m not even kidding.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me! I’ve had it up to here with you! I can’t take any more months of

this, or I swear I am going to flip my shit! Why do you always act like the world is fucking

ending all the time?”

“Maybe because…the world is fucking ending, you dipshit!”

Sarah sputtered angrily, her face blotching red. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Alia was spared the response by a particularly epic shouting match across the room

between Sydney, Sam, and Gary.

“You need to stop it with the movie references! That stuff is fictional, this is real, and

we’re in really deep shit right now! You’re not qualified to lead shit! And keep the phone

out of my face, I did not give you permission to film me!”

“Listen to her, Gary.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, you asshole! You’ve been just as useless the whole way

through!”

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 “Hey, why don’t you stick that opinion right up your…”

“Stop.”

Alia blinked in surprise. She hadn’t heard that voice in weeks.

“This is stupid.” Mike said. “And it’s not getting us anywhere. It’s pretty clear to me that

we need to get out of here. If they’ve figured out the door, they’ll get the lock any day now. So

let’s focus on doing that right now.” He gestured towards Gary. “You’re the expert, boss. What

now?”

After the requisite moment of stunned silence, Sam nodded. “Nice. Didn’t know you

could talk. Your English is pretty good, man.”

“I’m from Indianapolis.”

“Oh.”

Gary’s eyes lit up. “Well, if any of you have ever seen The Return of the Living Dead…”

The day of escape arrived, and Alia was justifiably nervous.

“I’m just a tad restless.” She told Sarah. “Have you got anything anti-anxiety in the

pharmacy stuff back there?”

“Well,” Sarah said, looking a little guilty. “It’s finished.”

Alia looked at her as understanding dawned. “Huh.” Sarah had been a little too calm the

past month, for Sarah in a zombie apocalypse situation.

“Listen,” Sarah said tentatively. “Just in case we’re ripped to pieces and/or become

zombies, I just want you to know…”

Alia pattered her on the shoulder. “It’s good. You know, this is the apocalypse. What’s a

little stress-fighting between survivor friends?”

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 Before Sarah could respond, they heard Sam muttering from behind them “Get to the car,

don’t get eaten, get to the car, don’t get eaten, get to the car, don’t get eaten.”

“Plan’s pretty simple, right?” Gary asked, behind his camera phone once more. “Pulled

straight from a classic. We floor it to my car out there in the parking lot, and then floor it out of

here. Easy as shooting Bill Murray in Zombieland.”

“Yeah,” Sydney interjected. “Why didn’t we do this earlier? Your car’s like a block away

in the parking lot.”

(It was bright blue and in plain sight. Zombies would occasionally sit on it. The license

plate itself was ‘ZOMB1E.’)

Gary gave her a thumbs-up from behind his phone. “We had to bond for the requisite

amount of time to ensure our survival. That’s why this happens in movies, now we’re stuck

together and can survive properly. See? That’s why you need to stick with the expert.”

“You’re a bastard.” Sam said.

Gary shrugged. “Say that when you’re rolling in dough because of this movie.”

“To clarify,” Sarah said. “We make a break for it when we see a gap in the road. We run

to your car. We pile in. You drive away and we’re home free.”

“Pretty much.” Sam confirmed. “I’ve been repeating the particulars to myself all day, but

I think I’ve got it now.”

“Ok,” Alia said, leaning back against the counter. “And now we wait.”

Gary cleared his throat. “Just to let you know,” He said. “This escape was inspired by

The Return of the Living Dead. I’ve told you that for a couple of reasons. One, so nobody can sue

me when they see our kickass movie. Two, in that movie, some of the characters are left behind

when they get to the car. So don’t be those characters. Run fast, survive. That is all.”

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 “Great.” Alia said. “Thanks for that.”

“This is awesome!”

Running away from zombies was actually really, really, fun. Alia had not expected that.

She was leveling out at a steady pace next to Sarah, who was keeping up quite

comfortably. The zombies, although quite fast, did not seem to have their coordination down

very well. (Limbs would drop off, inconveniencing their running spectacularly.) They also

looked confused, as Alia discovered was the “resting bitch face” equivalent for zombies.

As they neared the car, Alia heard an enraged scream and looked back sharply. Sam was

wrestling Gary back from the reasonably fit horde. An abandoned iPhone 6 lay on the road.

Gary, sensing he might actually die, gave up and glumly followed Sam over to the car.

Feeling inspired, Alia grabbed her nearly-dead phone from her pocket, mid-run, and

switched it to selfie mode. To her surprise, the zombies were relatively photogenic.

“Smile!” She yelled at Sarah, and took the picture.

Gary Clausen’s phone was discovered two months later in an abandoned street near a

well-known university convenience store.

Although the footage was fascinating, experts agreed that the poor video quality and

inane, movie-based commentary did not qualify it to be part of the main archival material of the

zombie apocalypse. If one was curious, however, they could request the original footage from

the well-funded Apocalypse Society of America. It, according to the Society, was a good

cautionary how-to on surviving another apocalypse, if there ever was one again.

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 (Of course, the Society was reasonably certain this wouldn’t be the case. They had

already released a brief, well-written statement of apology, promising that the next round of drug

testing would be held in a more responsible and risk-free manner.)

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