Brandon Bales - Audiobook

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English (North American)

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Brandon Bales. When a zombie loses his hand, where does he go? The secondhand store? That's all I could think of right now. If your life flashes before your eyes just before you die, then would that be my last thought? Just before being ripped apart, I was cornered by a horde of the undead and could not climb to any higher level. I was on the roof of 1/3 Street Promenade parking structure and could not climb down or take the elevator down. Something tells me a rescue helicopter is not coming for me, either, and I'm not going to sprout wings out of my shoulder blades. The hand Joe came to me because the lead zombie was missing a right hand. Too bad she wasn't missing her feet. She wouldn't have been chasing me so eagerly. I was thirsty and had to poop. I just couldn't bring myself to take a **** in the streets of Santa Monica. I knew there was a bathroom in the parking structure at Third Street, and bathrooms are a good place to find water to and to poop. I can collect water from leaking pipes or urinals are from the Philippines, and toilets and poop. All these avocados and oranges are meeting. Make me **** a lot. It's more like diarrhea, so I'm really dehydrated. This is not funny because I'm pretty chaffed. So I'm going to have to use some of the last of my olive oil to soothe the pain. I've only got about less than half a court left, so I got to make account. The coast was all clear just 10 minutes ago. No zombies around anywhere. I'm very careful to avoid them at all costs. Some can run after you very quickly. Some jump pretty high. Others just linger sleeping, waiting like trapdoor spiders anticipating, pray those don't dig holes in the concrete and cover themselves with rebels. So maybe that's not a great analogy, but it felt right at the moment. I was minding my own business, scavenging for canned food or bottled water, anything that I could eat or drink for that matter than unexpectedly. One wandered into the bathroom I was in. I always leave the door open. I need some sort of light. The fluorescents have not worked in weeks. I really got caught with my pants down. Being murdered was bad enough. But being murdered with an unliked *** was just not going to happen. Danger or not, I was not going to die that way. At its sense, to me, it could not have smelled me. This bathroom already smelled like simmering. ****, quickly wipe Slather olive oil. Ah, nice. I barrel my way through the stall door and push our meandering friend to the floor and blast out of the bathroom to the alley as it screeched out like Donald Sutherland did. At the end of invasion of the Body Snatchers, hundreds of eyes turned right on me. Each end of the alley was completely blocked by masses of rambling dead. I guess the high tide of zombies had reached Santa Monica. The dead travel in large groups and flow like the ocean's tide roaming from place to place. I guess this group was bored with whatever had attracted it to another part of town, and the mass migrated here. When I was taking a crap, the only place like a turn was into the parking structure and could only go up as I ran up floor after floor. The crowd of zombies giving chase seemed to grow the massive, like a tremendous hungry amoeba with ecto plastic parts of the crowd catching up in parts slowing down where these winded as I was. The parking structure was surprisingly clear of cars, most of them being on the freeway, I guess. But the zombies look to be pouring out of every doorway, every exit. I was awakening Mawr and more of them the dead who lay there since passing, aroused into a state of instant consciousness. And they were cranky and snarling from my blood, finally reaching the roof. I had nowhere else to go but down. As of toying with me, they slowed their approaches. They realized I had no escape but to jump five floors down. With my luck, I just get paralyzed if I took that flying leap of faith. And here I am. I hate heights. Actually, it's not the height. It's the fall I'm terrified of. Actually, it's not the fall. It's the sudden deceleration I'm afraid of. Actually, it's being murdered and turning into one of those things that I'm most terrified off. Actually, what terrifies me the most is the purposeless nous of their existence, the wandering, the rotting in the loneliness all that is kind of like my existence right now except the rotting part. It's not the kill but the thrill of the chase, I imagine, and they had given good chase. Rather, I was not fast or very clever in my get away. It's time for me to die. And then un di the lead zombie broke from the Mass and approached me alone, hobbling over to shred me up with her. One arm, I say Lead zombie because she naturally took the Alfa position. She had worked a Taco Bell. Her name tag read Rosa. I hope she didn't lose her hand in the re fried beans again with the jokes. Really, We're all God's Children, and I was ready as I was going to be to die kind of. She slowed her approach. The silence of the crowd added to my terror. The sun shone brightly in the sky. It's been good knowing you. I gripped my crowbar tightly. That was not going to go down without a fight. I had not killed one of these things yet. I mean, I I have not killed one for a second time. Rosa jumped right at me and push my head to one side, exposing my neck and took a deep sniff. No biting, no clawing, no scratching. She just smelled me. Then, as if on cue, the rest of the crowd instantly swarmed around me, pawing me, smelling me all over. Some even lick my exposed flesh like the lion savoring the gazelle before the meal. I'm still waiting for them to rip into me. Nothing. No aggression, no sounds at all, just the shuffling of bare feet and shoes on concrete. I'm shaking like I have hypothermia, even though it's a least 100 degrees today, I'm scared, so scared. I wet myself. One of the zombies falls to his knees and begins to slather his hands in my urine. He even begins to lick the floor where my P is pulling. This bizarre scene is not ending. It feels like being dropped into a pit of slithering snakes. I endure my humanity being violated, but I guess it's not as violating is being murdered. Although I'm shaking all over, I feel motionless and emotionless. I don't know what to feel really terror, for sure. I cannot move either foot to take a step forward or back I finally exhale one of the zombie stops and looks up at me. They all freeze in unison for a split second. It almost appears like he smiles at me with the Joker like smirk. Stepping backwards, he melt into the crowd, gazing at me the entire time, seemingly whispering. I'll see you again. I feel like the lonely swimmer treading in the middle of a pool of sharks with no one attacking every one of them takes a turn smelling me some all over some just a brief hint. I closed my eyes and let the non murdering violation continue. I guess I had no choice. The oddest thing about all this was how cold they felt against my skin. The mid day sun made it super hot, for sure, but they were cold to the touch. It's that little thing that bothered me. The most dead people who mysteriously or miraculously rose from the dead and were appalling at me took second fiddle to the fact that they felt cold to the touch. That bothered me more than the Lazarus effect, the crowded thin considerably by now, but I was still kind of afraid to run away and I'd be running in the same direction as they were dispersing. I peeked through a sliver in my island. Some of the zombies wandered away in pairs, others in groups of 3 to 6 appearing to discuss what had just happened in zombie talk. At least they had each other. I had no one, not even a dog, not even my dog. I miss my dog. After every last dead had drifted away and I was alone with my thoughts to process what had just happened. I fell to my knees. I had a complete breakdown, a tantrum. In fact, it's half panic. Have dread and half relief. Three halves. It's better than me being ripped into two halves. What had just happened to me? What will happen to me? Well, they change their minds and come back and rip me up their minds funny, funny and in Adolf Hitler joke kind of way. I feel like my processor is overloaded in the spinning Rainbow Ball of Death is mocking me, and I was not about to switch my power strip off to reboot. I guess your life does flash before your eyes when you're about to die. Checklist time was I dead? Probably not. Was I warm? I guess. Was I thirsty for sure. Was I scared? Definitely. Yeah, I was still alive. But the question of the day was for how much longer? Geez, I'm thirsty. It was time for me to get home. I peer over the edge and see no one in streets. Same for the alley. Cautiously yet quickly. I make my way down the various levels until I get to the alley. No one was around. How could they have all disappeared so quickly? I then noticed more than two blocks away. Two of them are lingering on a corner. This was weird. Where the **** did they all go? There were at least 200 of them up on the roof just a few minutes ago. As I make my way down the alley very cautiously. I know there are a large number of them in the diner on Broadway. They were just mulling around in there somewhere sitting. Others were meandering in the kitchen area. I take out my bush, know many binoculars and can clearly see somewhere even carrying plates and serving lunch. One of those zombies was a mailman. I was curious what his story was because he was clearly on the job when he died or, most likely murdered neither snow nor rain. Funny, we don't get either in L. A. That was a dedicated mailman male person. He was delivering the mail one day and a zombie attacked him and killed him. And now he has to wear a mailman uniform for ever. We still have the slacker hipster, the mechanic and a yoga girl to keep him company. It was like a life sized Barbie playset, but with zombies. I also see a soldier dressed in those gray uniforms with a pixelated digital pattern. They're not alerted to my presence at all. Nevertheless, I want to be careful. So I think that's linking across the street and ducking behind cars and hiding behind trees would be the best way to get back home. As I lower my binoculars, I realized that a random zombie just wandered up behind me and stared at the party going on across the street. Justus, I was doing random zombie. She was a living human being just a few weeks ago. I have an internal freak out and freeze remaining motionless for a few moments, I use all my energy not to turn and look at her. Even though by then she had inched her way right next to me. Awkward. I didn't feel a threat from her, but I was still very freaked. I'm sorry, but I've only seen these things. Murder the living. So my apprehension is still very much with me. The zombie reaches for my binoculars.