The Zombie Apocalypse

The world has ended.

And when I say "the world," I mean "Brigham Young University." (After all, here at BYU, "The world is our campus," so they're not really that different.) We seem to have a small zombie infestation here.

Now, there's no need to call CDC. We don't need to be quarantined (yet). You see, us crazy freshman are playing a surprisingly intense game of Humans vs. Zombies.

Yes, I picked this picture just because of the picture I posted in my last article. I'm just so clever, aren't I?

So, this game is basically just a prolonged game of tag. You start with 3 Original Zombies. They have to turn somebody else into a zombie (by tagging them) within 48 hours, or they starve to death. Humans can shoot zombies with Nerf guns or socks (for those college kids too poor and/or stingy to invest in a Nerf gun), and stun the zombies for some period of time.

I signed up for this game mostly because it was our hallway's idea to play, so I had to be part of the preparations anyway. But this has escalated into probably the most intense game of my life.

My roommate is already a zombie. My hallway goes to class only as a pack, and only by taking a circuitous route of backroads and less-traversed pathways. I have had to fight for my life 4 times in 24 hours.

And now? Someone stole the darts from my Nerf gun.

I say someone. Really, the only possibility is my undead roommate, since the darts were in my gun before I went to sleep. But he's feigning ignorance. And I suppose it's also possible that I hid them from myself in my sleep (yes, I have been known to do that), but that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

There is an upside from holing up in my room instead of bolting for the Canon Center just to get lunch—you get to read this blog post! You have the undead to thank for that.

WRITING UPDATE:
As far as my NaNo plans go (for those of you who actually READ the last post, and didn't comment on it—shame on you), I have decided to write short stories instead of a novel. I'll still try to turn out the 50,000 words like all of the rest of you crazy writers, but most MFA programs prefer short stories as writing samples, and I don't have a good enough idea to just write a novel. I'll keep you updated, as usual. With the oncoming apocalypse, I can afford to stay in my room Thursday and Friday and write, so maybe I'll have some significant news by then. If I'm still alive.

Until then.