Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Are You Listening?

Humanity wasn't ready for the world to end.

It was funny in a way. Well, not funny like I'm laughing. More like funny strange ... and sad.

You'd think that people would be ready. That they would have watched at least one of the thousands of zombie movies or TV shows that were out there.

But even then, it was like no one wanted to admit it. Nobody wanted to look at what had really happened. Or call it out for what it really was. Because it meant that life as they knew it was over.

It meant they'd have to scrape and fight to survive. They'd have to be hungry and cold and scared. Then they'd have to learn how to live like that.

A lot of people couldn't fathom that. They couldn't face it. It was fun when they were sitting in the comfort of their homes, warm and fed and washed, and talking about how they would survive the zombie apocalypse. Like they could somehow do it better than anyone else.

When it became real, they couldn't do it.

A lot of people gave up. They ... opted out. Because they couldn't hack it. They couldn't... or wouldn't do what it takes to survive.

Because survival is ugly. It doesn't care about feelings. It doesn't care about skin color or religion. It doesn't even care about right and wrong.

None of those things exist when you're wondering where your next meal is coming from. Or if you'll even get it.

In a post apocalyptic world, not everyone was a winner. You didn't get a participation ribbon and if you were a loser, it meant you were dead. So you better be a winner.

People started out in large groups. They went with the tenant that there was safety in numbers. You know, more people meant more people to watch your back.

But in reality it just caused more problems. Eventually groups would run out of food and it would get ... ugly. Or something would go wrong. Large groups of people would draw zombies or people would just turn bad.

You know, I remember reading something a long time ago about how humans were hardwired to only really be able to know two hundred and fifty people. Like two hundred and fifty was the prime number for group survival way back when humans were still mostly nomadic.

Two hundred and fifty was the right number of bodies to do things like get food, protect the group, whatever.

In reality, I think it's more like ten or fifteen people. I don't think you can trust more people than you have fingers and toes. Plus, it's easier to move and feed everyone when you have fewer members.

That's how big our group is now. We used to be bigger but, well, that's what everyone says. We all used to know more people.

A popular question, really the one you just asked me, is 'what happened to you?'

I guess it's supposed to be a well meaning question. Like, tell me all the horrible things that happened to you so I can pretend like I care, or like I know what you've been through just because I'm still alive too.

Sorry. By the way you're looking at me I know that sounded bitter. And there is something to say for the fact that you've made it this far too. But don't insult me by pretending that you know what it's like out there. You don't. You know how I know this?

It's your eyes. You don't quite have that thousand yard stare yet and I know that you've never worn it. Maybe you've seen some bad things but I don't think you've had to do them.

If you'll forgive my backtracking, I just hate that question. I hate when we come across new people. I would say no offense, but you and I both know that it's still offensive. I just don't like new people. Not any more. It has nothing to do with you personally.

It's just that for some reason they always feel like they need to get to know me. You know: What were you before this? Where'd you come from? What have you seen? Where have you been? What have you had to do? All of that crap.

Or they feel like they need to do something to get me to trust them. More than once that's ended up with someone dead, or someone I love in danger. I do not appreciate that. Mostly I just think it's stupid, and I have low tolerance for stupidity.

People never seem to get that there's nothing they can do. I only trust those people who've been with me from the beginning.

They're not just people any more. They're family.

And that's all that matters any more.

Not you. Not me.

Us.