I actually have given a Safety in the Apocalypse lecture to my children, back when they were 11 and 8, respectively, in the car while on the way home from watching Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds. While I enjoyed that film, it’s always irritated me that the plotlines of such films depend upon people doing the most counter-intuitive things in calamities that involve so much death and mayhem.
Like, say, a zombie apocalypse. In this clip, our hero Derek Grace has just finished reading the note his daughter left for him. He took over a week to get home after civilization fell to the undead, and therefore missed connecting with his children. Still:
A big smiley face was drawn next to the “THEY’RE HERE!” on my daughter’s note, so she wasn’t talking about the dead. Still, it makes me sick to think they waited as long as they did. At least they got out. I hope.
As for my advice to get away from the people, that was from years ago, after we were all shaken up by that summer’s blockbuster hit about an alien invasion. I told my children on the way home from the theater, and reiterated the lesson with every disaster movie we saw afterwards: whether it’s aliens or plague or Godzilla, get away from the population centers. Don’t be like the idiots in these movies. If people are getting killed, you go to where the people aren’t. Under no circumstances are you to waste valuable energy and resources on futile quests to find anyone. Get to safety, and for God’s sake, stay there.
So here’s hoping they made it to the farm outside of Pueblo. Me, I’m 20 miles from what used to be home. That place I’d feared we’d either be forced out of by foreclosure, or merely trapped forever. From where my wife couldn’t kiss me goodbye, because we couldn’t afford me getting sick and missing the interview. From where she died alone on a crowded emergency room apron because the police pulled their guns on our boy.
Away from Colorado Springs and on the edge of high plains ranch country, where the people aren’t—for the most part, anyway.
As we learn later, you may be safer in the country, but you’re never 100% safe in the zombie apocalypse. The story continues in GRACE AMONG THE DEAD, available in Kindle and paperback from Severed Press.
This is more than a tale of mere survival, though. It’s about love and redemption, and a flame-throwing monster truck. Plus, some of the meanest, ugliest zombie kills I’ve ever written, at least until I finish the third book in the series. For connoisseurs of fine zombie dining, GRACE AMONG THE DEAD is what is known as “primo stuff.” If you only see three reviews on the Amazon page, it’s because I don’t beg for those things, and the haters are gonna hate. You’ve seen what I put up here on my blog. I write, you decide. Read the entire first chapter here.
Like, say, a zombie apocalypse. In this clip, our hero Derek Grace has just finished reading the note his daughter left for him. He took over a week to get home after civilization fell to the undead, and therefore missed connecting with his children. Still:
As for my advice to get away from the people, that was from years ago, after we were all shaken up by that summer’s blockbuster hit about an alien invasion. I told my children on the way home from the theater, and reiterated the lesson with every disaster movie we saw afterwards: whether it’s aliens or plague or Godzilla, get away from the population centers. Don’t be like the idiots in these movies. If people are getting killed, you go to where the people aren’t. Under no circumstances are you to waste valuable energy and resources on futile quests to find anyone. Get to safety, and for God’s sake, stay there. So here’s hoping they made it to the farm outside of Pueblo. Me, I’m 20 miles from what used to be home. That place I’d feared we’d either be forced out of by foreclosure, or merely trapped forever. From where my wife couldn’t kiss me goodbye, because we couldn’t afford me getting sick and missing the interview. From where she died alone on a crowded emergency room apron because the police pulled their guns on our boy.
Away from Colorado Springs and on the edge of high plains ranch country, where the people aren’t—for the most part, anyway.
As we learn later, you may be safer in the country, but you’re never 100% safe in the zombie apocalypse. The story continues in GRACE AMONG THE DEAD, available in Kindle and paperback from Severed Press. This is more than a tale of mere survival, though. It’s about love and redemption, and a flame-throwing monster truck. Plus, some of the meanest, ugliest zombie kills I’ve ever written, at least until I finish the third book in the series. For connoisseurs of fine zombie dining, GRACE AMONG THE DEAD is what is known as “primo stuff.” If you only see three reviews on the Amazon page, it’s because I don’t beg for those things, and the haters are gonna hate. You’ve seen what I put up here on my blog. I write, you decide. Read the entire first chapter here.
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