it had happened oor Kornies
it had happened
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it had happened
Nyns esov vy owth oberi.langbot langbot
And these two were beating upon Christ until they were tired so that he did not have a vein or a limb or any part of his sweet body that was not hurting him. very truly this was most grievous and you will hear yet more of christ's torture as it had happened.
Da o gensi henna.langbot langbot
But it was clear, the rascal thought that what had happened was only bad luck. He charged at me again, again whirling his arms like windmills. The same thing happened. But this time I had set my feet firmly and I extended my left arm in a powerful jab.
Ny wrug Tom goslowes.langbot langbot
I don’t have a proper explanation for what happened. Perhaps, every girl after the first simply repeated what the first one had said. But it’s possible that the simple explanation is that I smelt slightly less strongly than some of my Newlyn mates!
Ny vynnav vy mos tre.langbot langbot
David leaves – and comes back Jude came back to try and talk me around – about an hour later. David’s breathing had become extremely laboured. He was still fighting but, but like all the other guys bitten before him, was definitely losing the battle – just as we had all expected. Jude put her hand on my shoulder and said as gently as possible, in the circumstances: “It’s time, Pete. You can do no more. Leave him with us and we’ll attend to him.” Jude was OK, someone my Dad would have called ‘a good sort’ but, despite this, I turned to her and blind fury suddenly welled up in me: “I said he’s not going anywhere! Don’t you understand? My brother is not going to join the zombies outside.” She withdrew her hand slowly and flicked an almost imperceptible glance sideways. I felt my head explode briefly and then everything went black. This, apparently, was ‘Plan B’, the plan to use if I didn’t change my mind about casting David outside of the library and into the hands of the zombies. I awoke with a sickening pain in my head. Jude was beside me once again but I had been trussed up. I was lying on a cold, hard floor and couldn’t move. I looked at her. I’m not sure if she completely felt my hatred for her at what had happened. It’s just that she was the one who was there – she was thus the object of that hatred. She bowed her head and muttered: “It’s done, Pete. David died and we’ve put him outside. You can’t do anything more for him.” Bullshit! David and I were not just brothers. We were identical twins. His joy had always been my joy. His pain had always been my pain. And so it must always be.
Yth eses tre de.langbot langbot
But the young lord had a brave heart, and he ordered his workmen to continue with their labour; and the trench was dug again, wide and deep into the centre of the hill. And this continued for three days, but always the same thing happened — every night, the soil was put back into the trench again and, seemingly, the hill was as it had been before. And they were no nearer to the fairies’ palace.
Eus pellwolok y’th chambour?langbot langbot
Apart from this half-forgotten lecture in jungle warfare, my only knowledge of military tactics came from reading (in Latin) about Rome’s wars with Carthage. Naturally, I still thought of Hannibal as a ‘gun’ General but, given that I didn’t have ready access to any battle elephants, I thought the valuable lessons I had learned from this reading were likely to be of limited use in dealing with the zombie apocalypse – or, for that matter, with any counter-offensive that might then be under weigh. After playing in my mind with the remembered fragments of the lecture from the reg, I turned to David – who had just listened to the radio with me. (Mildly interested – comprehension? I guess next to zero.) “Okay, David, we can forget about Hannibal,” I commenced (David had studied Latin as well). “Let’s think about our time together in the cadets. If the Army was going to form a defensive perimeter around the docklands area, how would they go about it? How far from the docks would they place the perimeter? As far as Central Melbourne? As far as here, at the university?” Naturally, he didn’t answer me. I was just using him as a sounding board. His eyes, however, did seem to look at me quizzically – if dead eyes could ever do that. We still sat in the Activities Office, each of us on one side of the desk upon which sat the transistor radio, currently our portal to the outside world. We sat for a while staring at one another – my mind was racing. His mind ....? Well, I didn’t know what was going on in there - maybe more than I realised. This moment of quiet reflection was abruptly interrupted: ‘Gween’, the zombies’ pet cat, had apparently wandered by and decided to join the party. (She obviously had the run of the building and feared none of its current residents.) She leapt nimbly onto the desk, rubbed against my unprotected arm, bit it sharply and then sauntered over to David as if nothing had happened. The wretch! David, of course, took the furry beast into his arms and clumsily started petting it. In return, the mainly black animal miaowed its appreciation at him, in a decidedly cutesy fashion, and started to purr loudly. After looking adoringly into my brother’s dead eyes for a time, Gween turned her face to me and hissed with apparent conviction.
Yn Nihon yth ov vy trigys.langbot langbot
Now that was a tricky question. I guessed from the broadcasts I’d heard that the official line was “no casualties” but here I was with a recently deceased soldier’s corpse. I leaned, very obviously, on the coffin and said: “Well, Private. Tell me what you’ve been told.” “We were told by our commanding officer that there were no casualties at all – but hat’s not what some of the blokes who were actually at the battle have told us.” I smiled ironically and patted the coffin tenderly: “We can’t go about believing rumours, can we? Our brave comrade must have died of a bad head cold, mustn’t he?” “Come on, Sarge,” the soldier persisted. “You can tell us what happened.” Still smiling, I said: “Sorry, Private. Security.” Then another piped up: “Okay. Let’s assume this guy was not killed by zombies – because that didn’t happen to any soldier – but, if it had, wouldn’t that mean he becomes a zombie as well? From just the bites, I mean?” I grimaced. “Private, I’ve seen what’s inside this coffin. You’d need an awful lot of ‘Tarzan’s Grip’ to stick all the bits back together. Only then might you get yourself a zombie.” A uniform look of revulsion covered the faces of all those present – and the questioning ceased. Reverently, the soldiers helped me get the coffin off the tray of the ute and onto a railway trolley. They stood by silently, waiting to assist in loading the box onto the train when it arrived. Good blokes, those men. The train arrived in a few minutes and, without fuss, both David and I were loaded into the baggage compartment. Citing various regulations, the train guard tried to persuade me to leave the coffin and travel up front, with the other passengers.
Tomm yw.langbot langbot
Lovely! I had chosen well. Then a slight movement in the afternoon shadows. David didn’t see it at first – zombies have poor eyesight, remember? “Whoever or whatever you are,” I thought, “for God’s sake, stay still.” It didn’t. This time, David spotted the movement and immediately let out an almighty bellow. He broke free of my grip and was off in hot pursuit. The small figure ran for all it was worth – and I set off after both of them, cursing loudly. David’s zombie blood was up. (Oh, I forgot, they don’t have blood, do they? Hmm. Maybe they’ve got blood but it just doesn’t move about much – what with no beating heart and all.) Anyway, the chase was on. Both David and the small, retreating figure were vaulting tombstones and dodging around pencil-pine trees. David was gaining in the pursuit but not a lot – though both were definitely leaving me behind. I noticed the small figure was headed to where I’d been taking David anyway, one of the large family crypts. David roared and the small figure ‘squealed like a little girlie’ – though I was reasonably sure it was not a girl. It didn’t seem to move like a girl. In fact, though male, it seemed to be a dwarf of some kind. “Open the fucking door!” it screamed as it ran. “Paul! Get the door open now! There’s a fucking zombie!” Yes, definitely male – and familiar, definitely familiar. “Paul”, whoever he was, was too slow. The door of the crypt remained firmly closed as the small male reached it – and, within seconds, David fell upon him with a triumphant roar. “Oh, shit,” I thought. “David’s just caught lunch.” And I knew, from what had happened to Meryl yesterday, there was not a thing I could do to prevent David’s mealtime from taking its tragic course.
Bras o an chi.langbot langbot
I approached one of the niches and, with a steel rod that was too hand, levered open the plate that sealed it from the outside. It was the one which, by the date on the plaque, had most recently been sealed – about three months previously. Immediately, I was assailed by the stench of human decay. Upon examination, using my “Pope” light, I saw that a bodily liquor was already seeping from the base of the coffin. Would that have affected the structural integrity of the wooden container? Maybe not - not yet. However, given David’s reluctance to fall in line with my plan, I decided he was unlikely to agree to get inside a box that had already been occupied for some time – even if we were able to eject the previous occupant. The other coffins in the crypt were unlikely to be in any better shape. So, it was either the extravagantly ornate, but empty, box – or stay put and think of another plan. I turned to David: “He who hesitates is lost, my friend. Let’s pick up the box again and see what we can do.” This time, bereft of other ideas, I gritted my teeth and lifted the ornate coffin in a ‘clean and jerk’ motion. I posed ‘my end’ on my shoulder and, David, with no obvious effort, did likewise. We exited the crypt as quietly as possible and I wondered how long I could hold my breath – which was the only way I could maintain sufficient strength for the lift. As I walked along a narrow path, towards the parked army vehicles, I recalled that David and I were distantly related to a famous Husband and Wife team of Power Lifters. I knew for certain that I had not had the relevant gene passed down to me – but David, my identical twin, was showing no pain. (How did that work?) Distracted by this thought, I managed to maintain the lift until we reached the khaki Holden utility. This was the vehicle I had chosen to take and, as it happened, it was the closest. I halted and nodded desperately in the direction of the vehicle: “Put it down – gently!” I breathed. David rested his end of the box on the open tailgate of the ute – and did so gently, as requested. This, however, meant that I needed to slide the box forward to the cab wall, whilst still holding the weight of the coffin on my by-now-bruised shoulder .
Prag y fynn'ta gweles Tom?langbot langbot
Riding over the hills, and eating their fill, the warm sun and the scent of turf, lying a little too long, stretching out their legs and looking at the sky above their noses: these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened. However, that may be: they woke suddenly and uncomfortably from a sleep they had never meant to take. The standing stone was cold, and it cast a long pale shadow that stretched eastward over them. The sun, a pale and watery yellow, was gleaming through the mist just above the west wall of the hollow in which they lay; north, south, and east, beyond the wall the fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill. Their ponies were standing crowded together with their heads down.
Da yw genev studhya Sowsnek.langbot langbot
The zombies apparently realised that the wall of sound and death had fallen over in front of them – and, as one, they surged forward. The squad commander barked out an order that I couldn’t hear and the entire squad leapt to its collective feet and bolted for the open rear door of the APC. Most managed to enter the vehicle but the door remained stubbornly open during the few seconds that it took for the fastest zombies to run across the narrow width of College Crescent. A few rifle shots rang out but those weapons soon fell silent as well. The squad disappeared under a mass of vengeful zombies. I did not have time to contemplate the grisly fate that befell those brave men. An opportunity had presented itself to me and it needed to be seized without hesitation. I slapped David out of his reverie – he, of course, had no idea as to what had just occurred. He roared his indignation at me but, all the same, followed me out of the room as I screamed: “Come on, Dave! Stay here and we die!” (I didn’t trouble him with the fact that he was already dead.) Soon, we were sprinting past the crowd of zombies that were feasting on the recently deceased soldiers. David’s pace slackened. Evidently, he wanted to join in – even though he had eaten already that day (outside the Rowden White Gallery). I was having none of it – another squad or helicopter gunship would shortly arrive on the scene to find out what had happened. And there would be much unhappiness. The main gates of the cemetery were, fortunately, still open. There were a number of military vehicles parked inside but no-one attending to them. I made a mental note of where I might expect to find an unattended vehicle if one were needed in the near future – but did not linger. My goal remained to get us back to the family crypt where we’d met up with Paul and Charles. It was quiet, weather-proof, probably blast-proof and still stocked (I hoped) with modest supplies of food – enough to last the few days I needed while the immediate hostilities died down.
Yma hi ow kul glaw ena.langbot langbot
Shaking all over from the exertion, I managed to do this – not so gently. I had no strength at all in reserve and marvelled at the fact that the two of us had managed to carry this massive thing so far. I stopped and, trying to control my quivering, listened. No snoring was audible. It was still night and the guard’s snoring had been clearly audible from this distance on the night before. “Anyone there?” came a stern-sounding voice. Bugger – I had been heard by the guard. (What ever happened to the imprecation “friend or foe” that I had been taught in my time as a toy soldier?) Or, maybe, he had merely been awakened by the noise without really hearing it. (Or so I hoped.) I motioned to David to remain still. I heard the guard noisily lifting his rifle – the sound of the thick, woven strap casually slapping the butt was quite distinctive for me. The sound of heavy boots, equally familiar, started approaching us. Fight or flight? Neither – stay put! “Anyone there?” the voice repeated, with perceptible uncertainty. Uncertainty? Yes, that’s what we wanted. I decided we should stay put and, soon the footsteps retreated without the guard having seen us. I knew the plan had gone too far for us to abandon without raising suspicion – and, probably, initiating a detailed search of the cemetery which, as far as I knew, had not previously been done. (After all, who hides in a cemetery?) David and I stood, frozen to the spot for about twenty minutes before we heard the resumption of the guard’s snoring. Time to move. The main driveway to the cemetery was, unfortunately, relatively flat. So, for silent running, it needed both of us to push the khaki-coloured ute, me from the driver’s wheel and David from the rear. (It took some little time to indicate to him what it was that I required but I needed his strength. So, I persisted until he understood.)
Penn-bloodh lowen, Shishir!langbot langbot
“Tanks,” I croaked. (Not a fulsome expression of gratitude, maybe, but the best I could muster in the circumstances – for my torturer-turned-saviour.) Ingrid nodded in shy acknowledgement. “David’s back in the cells,” she said. “He’s okay now.” She had known he was on my mind. “I want to tell you what happened to him,” she continued, very quietly. It was my turn to nod. “In the first experiment, when you were suffering, David’s EEG readout went from a complete flat-line to a sort of jagged, irregular, spasmodic thing – like I’ve never seen before. No normal brain could produce such a pattern. Your suffering turned David’s brain on – or so it seemed.” She paused, looking downcast: “I guess that’s why the Captain devised the second experiment. He didn’t really consult me on it. I ask you to believe me about this,” she said. I did – but this only confirmed that she was fully aware of – and consented to – the first experiment (and the cruelty it had inflicted on me). “Anyway, the second experiment followed the same pattern as the first – up to a point. You suffered and David’s zombie brain came alive – sort of. The same EEG pattern: jagged, irregular lines, some still flat, others off the scale. But then, ...” She paused again. I think she had started to weep – but she quickly regained control of herself. (Weeping is weakness, it seems.) “Then, you stopped breathing and went into cardiac arrest. David abruptly ceased to roar and protest at what was happening to you. He went completely impassive and just sat there in his chair. He simply ‘stopped’ at the same time as you did. There was a complete flat-line in his read-out again.” What did this mean? I couldn’t say but, perhaps, because he was my identical twin, born of the same fertilised egg – and because I was not a zombie – he was unlike other zombies. Until I, too, died.
Yth esons i ow tiberth.langbot langbot
In short, in my view, it was a strategic fuck up. It reminded me a little of the Japanese bombing of Darwin and Townsville in WWII – of which the Australian general public was kept largely ignorant. Likewise, the battle of the Kokoda Trail in New Guinea to which my own father had been scheduled to go until a ‘Sliding Doors’ moment happened – but that’s another story. (If we pretended it wasn’t happening – and no-one was panicking about it – wouldn’t that mean that the militarily superior Japanese Imperial Forces would simply go away?) Perhaps those comparisons are not really apt. I’m no military historian. But I could see no value in keeping the public ignorant of our present problem until waves of homicidal zombies were actually on their doorsteps. They were not simply going to give up and go home. They had no home. So, you say, what was the part of the picture that Paul and I had not guessed at? Well, there was, as I’ve said, an area with a radius of about 200km around Melbourne which was completely controlled by the zombies and, so far, they were largely unchallenged. ‘Do the math!’ as they say. That’s over 100,000 square kilometres of existing infestation – with ‘new’ zombies being created all the time to spread the infection even further. But – and this was what I learned from the BBC News – the plague was behaving more like a bushfire than a mere epidemic. Ahead of the infection that physically travelled with the vanguard of the zombies, there were, in effect, ‘spot fires’. Men got bitten but escaped before they showed any symptoms, before they underwent the ‘change’ into zombies. By the time they became infectious – and started biting people – they were often hundreds of kilometres away from the place of infection, having fled in cars, trains, planes and boats. Some fresh outbreaks had been observed as far away as New Zealand and Samoa – and, more worryingly, given the still isolated and rugged topography and rudimentary infrastructure, in Papua New Guinea.
Hi a dhibarthas.langbot langbot
“Sorry, Mate,” I thought. “We did our best. It just wasn’t good enough.” A corporal called his commanding officer over: “This one isn’t a zombie, Sir,” he said, pointing in my direction. “Perhaps he’s a collaborator.” A Captain approached. He wore a caduceus badge. He was a military doctor. “A collaborator?!” he scoffed. “What an absurd concept.” “He looked first at me and then at David. He did the same thing three or four times. “They’re related. Brothers, I’d say. Maybe even twins. It’s a bit hard to tell what the zombie looked like a few days ago – what with that awful grey skin and bloody mess that they all seem to wear.” He addressed himself to me: “You there! I could have you shot as a spy, you know. I assume you’re not really a Sergeant in Her Majesty’s Australian Army. The penalty for impersonating army personnel during time of war is summary execution, you know.” Yes, I had heard of this, now that I thought of it – but was this really a war? In any event, it seemed that David and I would be going together. That, at least, was some comfort. I remained silent. I had nothing to say. Then a strange thing happened. The Captain’s manner abruptly changed. He examined me and David more closely. David kept roaring his protest, of course, and tried vainly to escape his bonds. The Captain came and sat himself beside me, took off his hat and assumed an avuncular (but definitely creepy) tone with me: “Would you rather be shot, here and now, as a spy – or would you prefer to live on and, possibly, ensure the existence of your zombie relative for a while yet?”
Yth esa hi ow mires orthis.langbot langbot
KING JAMES VERSION (BIBLE SOCIETY PARAGRAPHED EDITION 1954) Luke 24 The Resurrection 1Now upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came unto the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared, and certain others with them. 2And they found the stone rolled away from the sepulchre. 3And they entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. 4And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments: 5and as they were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead? 6He is not here, but is risen: remember how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee, 7saying, The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again. 8And they remembered his words, 9and returned from the sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and to all the rest. 10It was Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and other women that were with them, which told these things unto the apostles. 11And their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. 12Then arose Peter, and ran unto the sepulchre; and stooping down, he beheld the linen clothes laid by themselves, and departed, wondering in himself at that which was come to pass. On the Way to Emmaus 13And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs. 14And they talked together of all these things which had happened. 15And it came to pass, that, while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. 16But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. 17And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad? 18And the one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering said unto him, Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which are come to pass there in these days? 19And he said unto them, What things? And they said unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people: 20and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him. 21But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel: and beside all this, to day is the third day since these things were done. 22Yea, and certain women also of our company made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre; 23and when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he was alive. 24And certain of them which were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had said: but him they saw not. 25Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: 26ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory? 27And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. 28And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they went: and he made as though he would have gone further. 29But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent. And he went in to tarry with them. The Evening Meal 30And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them. 31And their eyes were opened, and they knew him; and he vanished out of their sight. 32And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures? Return to Jerusalem 33And they rose up the same hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them, 34saying, The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon. 35And they told what things were done in the way, and how he was known of them in breaking of bread. Peace be unto you 36And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. 37But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit. 38And he said unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? 39Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. 40And when he had thus spoken, he shewed them his hands and his feet. 41And while they yet believed not for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, Have ye here any meat? 42And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honeycomb. 43And he took it, and did eat before them. Ye are my witnesses 44And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me. 45Then opened he their understanding, that they might understand the scriptures, 46and said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day: 47and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 48And ye are witnesses of these things. 49And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high. The Ascension 50And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. 51And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. 52And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: 53and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God. Amen.
Hi yw unnek bloodh warn ugens.langbot langbot
DOCTOR INGRID “Are you in need of pain relief?” The voice was that of Ingrid, through the peephole of our cell door. I was ready for her – I had given this meeting some thought. “Tell me, doctor,” I replied. “What’s it like working with Doctor Josef Mengele? What’s it like working in Auschwitz instead of Puckapunyal?” She gasped involuntarily – evidently, she knew of the evil reputation of the bestial Nazi doctor and how that reputation had been earned. I had struck a real nerve. I had intended to. So, I pushed hard on that nerve. “Tell me, doctor. If you can’t answer that question, what about this one: when did you decide to renounce your Hippocratic Oath? When did you decide it was okay to ‘do harm’?” The peephole was abruptly snapped shut. I heard the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Advantage: me. The peephole stayed shut for some hours until Ingrid (who had apparently now composed herself) returned once again. “Are you in need of pain relief?” she repeated without emotion. Of course, I was. My skin was still on fire from all the scorch marks inflicted upon my body – and my genitals were very bruised and achy. (There had been no need to put the cattle-prod in my groin to get the desired reaction from David – this had been pure malice, pure payback. Then again, as he’d been so thorough in applying the prod to David’s testes, he probably just thought he needed to be completely even-handed about the matter. Hmmmph!) I decided I could put my mind games to one side until I had gotten the relief I’d been craving for some hours. Even so, I tried to make light of my suffering: “Yes, as it happens, an Aspro or two would be most welcome,” I said, as sweetly as I could.
Nyns yw res dhis kana.langbot langbot
This was exactly what I needed. What was happening ‘out there’? How far had the plague spread and what was the world doing about it? Curiously, the Zombie Apocalypse was not the leading news item. “That’s probably good news,” I thought. “Probably.” As it turned out, the discussion that Paul and I had recently, outside the crypt, had been half-right. This was not bad, considering our almost complete lack of data at the time. The bit we’d guessed correctly concerned how far the vanguard zombies had managed to spread the plague simply by walking out from ground zero in Melbourne. The current ‘battle front’ was indeed being fought on three separate fronts: one in each of the three regional cities of Geelong, Ballarat and Bendigo. The vanguard had got to those cities within days of the initial outbreak, catching the populace completely unprepared – just as Melbourne and its suburbs had been. This vanguard was being continually reinforced, from Melbourne, by a steady supply of graduate or ‘new’ zombies. (That is, the guys who’d been bitten in the first few days but had taken some time to ‘change’.) So, each of those regional cities had now become the site of daily pitched battles between the zombies and a relatively ad hoc civilian-cum-military resistance. Given the inadequate nature of the initial response, the civil authorities had determined that it was better to impose a complete news blackout at local level rather than cause unnecessary panic among the civilians. Do you follow that logic? No, I didn’t either. In those first few days, it seems the military authorities took the view that, if they could do nothing effective to counter the zombies, it was preferable to maintain civil order in places where the zombies had not yet reached (and simply abandon the residents of Greater Melbourne to their fate – which neatly explained why we had seen no helicopters after Day One). Well, maybe there was a certain misconceived logic in those first few days – when the authorities thought they might yet contain the plague to Melbourne and the area immediately surrounding that city. But this strategy, if that is a worthy description, gave the residents of the three outlying regional cities no warning, no chance to flee in an orderly manner – or to start preparing their defences as soon as possible.
A allses ta ow gweres?langbot langbot
Having attended to our ablutions, I felt the need to rest again and to block out the intermittent roar of the ongoing slaughter outside. I was just too stuffed from what had been happening over the last week and more – and, anyway, we had nowhere else to go just at the minute. More than that, if I were to continue on, I couldn’t afford to think about the horror of recent and ongoing events – it was simply too overwhelming and sleep was the place to retreat from all that. David lapsed into a torpor with which I was now becoming familiar. Was it sleep? Was it another form of death? I awoke again in the afternoon, I think. The shooting was now very sporadic and the cries of the zombies were no longer audible. Still, we’d need to be here for at least a few days before it was safe to venture out – or so I guessed – and I would need to keep myself occupied. What to do next? Then I hit upon it: there was a pack of playing cards that Charles and Paul had left behind in their rush to exit. Today, I would try to teach David how to play poker. It was a game he’d once been good at – and had enjoyed. So, why not? Why not indeed? But first, I would catch up on world events. Yes, miraculously, I had managed to hold onto the transistor radio whilst effecting our escape from the battle. True, it was now a little battered – and smelled a lot of gasoline soot – but it still worked. (I hoped that the batteries had been relatively new because I had no replacements at hand.) “This is the BBC World Service,” the announcer intoned. (I was warming to that voice.) News that I wasn’t interested in came first but the ‘Battle of Melbourne Port” was the third item of the broadcast. The item confirmed a couple of things. The first was that the herding of the zombies into the uni campus – and their subsequent destruction there – had been entirely planned and was claimed to have been largely successful in its aim. (There was no mention of the soldiers who had been taken by the zombies during the battle.)
Soweth!langbot langbot
David was making a bee-line for them. When he reached the group, he roared once again and threw himself among them. At first, I thought he was trying to fight them – but, no, he was merely pushing them aside, pushing them aside to share in what they had. What they had was a small, frail corpse. By the crimson of the blood pooling around it, I’d say the kill (if that’s what it was) was very recent, only a matter of minutes since. The zombies were noisily feasting on their prize. By its proximity to the southern exit of the building, I guessed that’s where the victim had come from – no doubt making a desperate dash for freedom. Yes, I could see it was a girl. She hadn’t got far. Her last horrific moments seem to have been spent trying to cower under the round wooden seat set around the large eucalypt tree. Very poor cover indeed. She must have been desperate. Wherever she had been within the building, it had kept her safe for at least 7 days. So, why run now? Why not keep waiting for help to arrive? I’ll never know. Perhaps the water ran out. Perhaps, the food. I watched David and the zombies devouring the unfortunate woman. Totally engrossed in their feast, they utterly ignored me. Hearing the ‘festivities’, other zombies soon came and joined in. A week ago, they had been young men and this young woman had probably been among their classmates. Fascinated but feeling relatively safe, I couldn’t help but edge closer to observe the unbelievable event that was occurring before my eyes. Then, it happened: One of the zombies paused and rose from its vile feasting just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the young woman’s face. “David!” I screamed. “We know her! That’s Meryl.” David lifted his head very briefly and flicked his dead eyes in my direction. “So?” they seemed to say. He returned immediately to the business at hand. I kicked savagely at his rear – to no good purpose. He rose to his feet and turned full-face to me.
Yw hemma dha ji?langbot langbot
“I was there on Day One, sister! I saw all those kids bitten by those first zombies – the ones who appeared from nowhere. I saw most of the guys who got bitten become zombies – or just be torn apart, destroyed. But, I also saw guys, very close friends of mine, get bitten, get sick and then recover! They ended up as well as you or I are now – or, at least, as well as you are now...” I saw her wince a little at this oblique reference to the injuries that I had suffered (at least, indirectly) at her hands. Good! I continued: “...I saw this happen with my own two eyes. Those guys recovered completely – though they’ve probably been burnt to a crisp by napalm now. All they had to remind them of their infection were the scars of the zombie bites.” I paused and sighed. Ingrid remained silent. So, I pressed the attack: “But you can believe whatever you want, doctor,” I said, “ because, actually, I don’t care anymore. I know that I’m going to die, too – and, unless I miss my guess, the “Angel of Death” will be arranging for my, very painful, passing very shortly – when he has no further experimental use for me or David. Maybe he can arrange for a ton of napalm to be dropped on me as well? What do you think?” This was a bit of theatrics on my part. I didn’t really believe that my death was so imminent – I considered that I was still far too ‘useful’ to the Captain’s research – whatever that really was (apart from sadism). I thought he might kill me but that, if that happened in the near future, it was more likely to be by experimental error or oversight. Furthermore, you will have noted that, in talking to Ingrid, I had glossed over one very salient fact: my friends had indeed survived zombie bites but they had never become zombies themselves. I knew of no case where a zombie had reverted to normalcy. As far as I knew, this was impossible. It was a definite one-way street – but Doctor Ingrid did not need to know that. “So, these guys, the ones who recovered, what do you think made them different from all the other guys – the ones who stayed being zombies?”
Yma kudyn bras dhe Tom.langbot langbot
There were two viewing windows to the chamber. I guessed that I was the show. At one window, stood what would now be considered an ancient video camera of considerable bulk. My ‘show’ was to be recorded. The chair into which David was securely tied was placed at the other viewing port. He had a perfect view of me – and I of him. A second ancient video camera was pointed at David. I was not hooked up to an EEG machine this time but, curiously, David was. He had all the electrodes stuck to his shaven scalp – just like last time – and these led by wire back to a screen. But for me? Nothing. What did this remind me of? Suddenly, I became very anxious and loudly demanded to be let out of the chamber. Could they hear me? Would it have mattered if they could? David could see my anxiety and started to roar. None of this mattered to the Captain. Did Ingrid know what was about to happen? I screamed for mercy – in a flash, I had remembered what all this was about. I had seen the horrific archival film from Auschwitz. This guy really was Mengele’s successor and I was about to die an agonising death. Why? Was there a reason? “Start the vacuum pump,” he ordered loudly – and I heard the electric motor thump into action. Fuck! I looked through the window at David – he was no use. He was just complaining, as usual. Dr Slimy-smile was peering intently at me from behind one of the cameras. Ingrid was not visible to me but, no doubt, she was somewhere in the background. Soon the air began to thin and my breathing became more rapid. Just as with a mountain climber’s body, my body was trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen by making me take in more air. More air meant more oxygen. It would only work for a short time – I knew that.
Res yw dhyn gul neppyth.langbot langbot
Maybe, somehow, it was I who was feeling David’s pain. Then again, perhaps I was just registering my upset at what I was seeing – and being completely helpless to stop. “That’s given me an idea,” said the smiling Mengele. “An idea for a follow-up experiment, consequential on the results of the first.” And, with that, his gaze fell upon my own body. He ordered my clothes to be torn from me and stepped evenly towards me, cattle-prod still in his hand. I well remember the jolt of the first application of the rod to my skin – on the forehead, as it happens. And I also remember hearing my own screams echoing in that bare-walled room. But I only got to know (later) how often, and where, the prod was applied to me by the scorch marks it left on my skin. (I had blacked out pretty early in the process.) It looked like I got about the same treatment as I saw David get. It was some minutes, or some tens of minutes perhaps, after the last application of the prod – and therefore after Ingrid’s last data point – that my mind rose once again into consciousness. The first thing I heard was Mengele’s voice: “Remarkable. Truly remarkable.” (Apparently, the word ‘remarkable’ was his favourite descriptor.) A conversation followed between him and Doctor Ingrid. I was still too groggy to take in all of it but the salient point of it was that, once David had seen me being tortured, his EEG readout had suddenly ceased flat-lining and had shown unmistakable signs of neuronal activity. There was apparently nothing at all normal in the patterns recorded – some of the lines had remained completely flat – but there was no doubt that a discernible pattern was to be observed (but only while I was being subjected to serious torture.) “I hope this is not an experiment that those two need to replicate too often,” I thought. My skin felt like it was on fire and David’s continued roaring was adding to my headache. I passed out once again and did not wake until we were both back in our concrete cell.
Skrif Spaynek.langbot langbot
“That’s a very good question. Private Swooper,” I answered. “I’ve lived amongst the zombies since Day One, since the very first outbreak in Melbourne. On that day, there were hundreds of zombies all at once – and there were none the day before. None at all. As far as I know, none of those first zombies had been bitten by anyone or anything. Don’t you think that’s curious, Private?” Private First Class Brendan Swooper nodded thoughtfully – and a lot of the other GI’s in the audience nodded along with him. I continued: “My brother became a zombie within the first few days ...” (I omitted to mention that he’d actually been bitten in that time.) “... but not me. I’ve seen a lot of guys and girls, all fellow university students, bitten by those zombies, the ones who appeared on Day One, the ones who had never been bitten. None of the girls became zombies. None of them. Not one. Now, Private Swooper, that’s also mighty strange, don’t you think?” Private First Class Swooper nodded even more thoughtfully – and even more GI’s nodded along with him. (At this point, the Captain started to feel uneasy about the fact that I had the undivided attention of the GI’s – who all seemed very interested in what I had to say. He stood abruptly, started to try and silence me once again. The GI’s hissed at him – and he reluctantly resumed his seat.) “The third thing, Private, that is mighty strange is that not all the guys who got bitten and became zombies stayed that way!” “That’s not true!” yelled the Captain – who was promptly hissed down again. I shrugged, fell silent in my cage. I knew what would happen. I had won the GI’s over. I was just like them – young and unworldly - but they knew I was talking from first-hand experience. They wanted to know what I knew – and for very good reason: their lives may have depended on it. Very soon, despite the fact that the Captain tried to shut the meeting down, I was recalled to speak. Now, I knew the Captain would be most reluctant to interrupt – at least until I had said more than he could tolerate. I continued:
Lowen yw Ken.langbot langbot
30 sinne gevind in 11 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.