Punks Versus Zombies - Episode 45 of the zombie survival saga

Welcome to episode 45. In our previous episode, Roxy returned home to find it abandoned and in ruin...

Tommy jerked awake, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of his mind. He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and looked out the window.

They were on a highway cluttered with abandoned cars and the occasional rotting corpse. Zero was behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the obstacles ahead.

“Where are we?”

Laila shrugged. “Still headed to Pittsburgh. It’s been slow-going.”

Tommy shifted in his seat, his muscles stiff, his ankle aching. His head throbbed, a dull pain pulsing behind his eyes.

He needed a drink.

Laila placed a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

He managed a nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Zero swerved to avoid an overturned semi, the motion jostling them in their seats. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “This whole thing, this zombie outbreak? It’s not natural. It’s not some freak accident or random mutation.”

Tommy sighed. “Don’t start, Zero. Not now.”

“It’s all connected, Tommy boy. That’s what you need to realise. That’s what you’re not seeing. It’s all about the bigger picture. It’s all about connecting the dots.”

“Dude, we’ve been through this,” Jimbo said. “It was the lizard people, remember? It leaked from their base in Antarctica.”

Laila snorted out a laugh.

“The globalists, the New World Order, the Great Reset. They’ve been planning this for years, decades even.”

Roxy leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it,” Zero said. “A pandemic that just happens to wipe out most of the population, leaving only scattered pockets of survivors? A virus that turns people into mindless, violent drones? It’s the perfect setup for a totalitarian takeover.”

Tommy shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You’re crazy. You really think some shadowy cabal engineered a zombie apocalypse just to, what, implement a one-world government?”

Zero shot him a glare, his lip curling. “Open your eyes, Tommy boy. It’s all right there, hidden in plain sight. The Georgia Guidestones, Agenda 2030, the World Economic Forum. They’ve been telling us their plans for years, but we were too blind to see it.”

Laila shifted in her seat, her gaze darting between them. “Guys, maybe we should just focus on the road, yeah? This isn’t helping.”

“No,” Tommy said. “Let him speak. I want to hear this. I want to hear how he thinks Bill Gates or George Soros or whoever the hell is behind all of this.”

Zero slammed on the brakes, sending them lurching forward in their seats. He twisted around to face Tommy, his eyes blazing. “You think this is a joke? You think I’m just some paranoid nutjob, is that it?”

Tommy met his gaze. “I think you’re giving them too much credit. I think you’re seeing patterns where there are none, because it’s easier than facing the truth.”

“And what truth is that, huh?”

“That the world is random and chaotic and cruel. That sometimes, bad things just happen, and there’s no grand conspiracy behind it. That we’re all just trying to survive in a universe that doesn’t give a damn about us.”

Zero laughed, a harsh, humourless sound. “That’s where you’re wrong, Tommy boy. There’s always a bigger picture, always someone pulling the strings. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the one who’s blind.”

Jimbo cleared his throat, his hands held up. “Whoa, okay dudes, let’s all just take a breath, yeah?”

Roxy shook her head, her gaze fixed on Zero. “Who knows? Maybe he’s onto something. If what you’re saying’s true, where do we fit into all this?”

Zero carried on driving. “We don’t fit into it, that’s the point. We’re the outliers, the ones who slipped through the cracks. We’re the ones who are going to expose the truth and bring the whole damn system crashing down.”

Tommy snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Because a band of punks is going to take on the New World Order and win.”

“You got a better idea, Tommy boy? You want to just keep running, keep hiding, keep pretending like everything’s going to go back to normal someday? Newsflash, asshole—this is the new normal. This is the world we live in now, and we’d better start getting used to it.”

“Enough,” Laila snapped. “Both of you, just…enough. We can’t do this, not now. We have to stick together, have to focus on surviving. Because if we don’t…” She trailed off.

Tommy felt a pang of guilt. She was right. They couldn’t afford to be at each other’s throats, not when every day was a fight for survival.

But he couldn’t just let it go, couldn’t just sit back, and let Zero fill their heads with his paranoid fantasies. “You’re wrong, Zero. You’re wrong about all of it. And I’m not going to just sit here and let you spout your conspiracy theories like they’re gospel truth.”

Zero’s face hardened. “You want to walk, Tommy boy? You want to strike out on your own, see how far you get without me watching your back?”

Tommy’s eyes widened. He looked around at the others, at Roxy and Jimbo and Laila, trying to gauge their reactions. But they just stared back at him. “This is my van. I’m the one who got us this far, and I’m the one who’s going to get us the rest of the way.”

Zero laughed. “Your van? And who’s the one who got it running again when it broke down, huh? Who’s the one who’s been keeping us on the road? Face it, Tommy boy—without me, you’d be dead in a ditch somewhere, another rotting corpse for the zombies to chew on.”

Tommy’s hands clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell Zero exactly where he could shove his arrogance. But the truth was, he had a point.

Without Zero’s mechanical skills, without his grim determination and ruthless pragmatism, they might not have made it this far.

“And as for your leadership,” Zero continued, his lip curling in a sneer, “what leadership? You’re a sheep, Tommy boy. You’ve been following my lead since day one, letting me make the hard decisions, the necessary choices. And now you want to pretend like you’re the one in charge?”

Tommy opened his mouth to retort, but Roxy beat him to it. “Maybe he has a point, Tommy. Maybe we should hear Zero out, at least consider the possibility that there’s more going on here than meets the eye. I mean, think about it—what are the odds of something like this just happening by chance? Of a virus that just happens to turn people into zombies, that just happens to spread across the entire country, maybe even the world in a matter of weeks? It doesn’t add up.”

Tommy stared at her. “You can’t be serious, Rox. You can’t honestly believe—”

“I’m not saying I believe anything,” Roxy said, holding up her hands. “I’m just saying we should keep an open mind, that’s all. Because if there is some kind of conspiracy at work here, some kind of larger plan, then maybe knowing about it could give us an edge. Maybe it could help us survive.”

Jimbo shifted in his seat. “Roxy’s got a point, dude. I mean, I’m not saying I buy into all this New World Order crap, but you’ve got to admit, it’s a little…convenient. The way everything just fell apart so quickly, the way society just…collapsed?”

Tommy looked around at them, at these people he’d come to think of as his family, his heart sinking. “Fine. You want to follow Zero down the rabbit hole, be my guest. But I’m telling you, it’s a mistake. It’s a distraction, a waste of time and energy that we can’t afford. We need to focus on surviving, on getting to the east coast, on finding our families and—”

“And then what?” Zero cut in. “What happens when we get there, Tommy boy? What happens when we find out that there’s nothing left, that everything we’ve been fighting for is gone? What then, huh?”

Tommy swallowed, his throat tight. “Then we keep going. We find someplace safe, someplace we can start over. We build something new, something better.”

“You want to ‘build back better,’ huh?” Zero shook his head, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You really are a sheep, aren’t you? Still clinging to your fairy tales, your happy endings. Well, I’ve got news for you, Tommy boy—there are no happy endings, not anymore. There’s only survival, only the fight to stay alive. And if you can’t see that, if you can’t accept it…then maybe you’re the one who doesn’t belong with us.”

The words hit Tommy like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. He looked to the others for support, for some sign that they didn’t agree, that they still believed in him. But they wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Screw you, Zero. Screw you and your nihilistic red pill crap. You want to give up, to just accept that this is the way things are now? Fine. But I’m not going to stop fighting. I’m not going to stop hoping. Because if we lose that, if we lose the belief that there’s something better out there, then we might as well just lay down and die.”

Zero stared at him for a long moment. Then he shrugged, turning back to the wheel. “Suit yourself, Tommy boy. But don’t come crying to me when reality comes knocking.”

After a long moment, Tommy sighed. “Look, I can’t be doing with all this conspiracy crap, alright? It’s not helping anyone.”

Zero shook his head, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “You need to wake up, Tommy boy. You need to open your eyes and see what’s really going on.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, exactly?”

“The truth. The truth about the world we live in, about the people who run it. You think this is the first time something like this has happened?”

Tommy snorted. “Right. And I suppose you’ve got proof of that, do you?”

“Proof?” Zero laughed. “You want proof? How about Operation Northwoods, huh? The CIA’s plan to stage false flag attacks on American soil and blame it on Cuba, just to justify an invasion. Or COINTELPRO, the FBI’s campaign to infiltrate and disrupt activist groups in the 60s and 70s. Iran-Contra, Watergate, Tuskegee, MK-Ultra, WMDs in Iraq, Operation Mockingbird, Operation Paperclip…the list goes on and on. Conspiracies are everywhere,”

“And wat am I supposed to do with a barrage of names like that? How is any of that supposed to help us survive?”

“It’s not about survival. It’s about understanding the world we live in, about seeing through the lies and the propaganda. You want to know what you should do? You should do your own research. You should question everything you’ve been told, everything you think you know. Because I guarantee you, most of it is a lie.”

Tommy shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Right. So I should just, what, spend my days reading conspiracy blogs and watching YouTube videos? I should just ignore the fact that we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and focus on, on what, exactly? On proving that the moon landing was faked, that the earth is hollow, that lizard people are secretly running the world?”

Zero’s jaw clenched. “You’re just like everyone else, blindly following along, never questioning the official narrative. You think you’re some kind of rebel, some kind of punk rock hero, but you’re just another NPC.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “And what does that make you, huh? Some kind of enlightened truth-seeker? Hate to break it to you, Zero, but you’re just another sheep, following whatever conspiracy theory you read on the internet. Right-wing gun-nut conspiracy crap.”

“Right-wing?” Zero laughed. “Oh that’s rich. You think you have me all figured out, don’t you Tommy boy? Think I fit into your neat little boxes. But that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not right-wing. I’m not left-wing. I’m above that whole paradigm. I’m a true punk, a true anarchist. Not like you weekend warrior types.”

Tommy bristled. “You calling me a part-time punk? A poseur? I’ve lived this life. I’ve bled for this scene. And you have the nerve to—”

“To what? Call it like I see it? You think because you play in a band, because you’ve got some tattoos and piercings, that makes you a punk?” Zero sniffed. “Nah. Being a punk is a mindset, a way of life. It’s about rejecting all systems of control and oppression, tearing them down brick by brick.”

Tommy shook his head. “You want to talk punk? Punk’s about building something better, not just smashing everything to bits. It’s about unity, equality, supporting each other. Not whatever pseudo-intellectual ‘wake up sheeple’ crap you’re spouting.”

Zero opened his mouth to retort, but Roxy cut him off. “Enough! I swear, if I have to listen to one more second of you two arguing over who the ‘real’ punks are, I’m going to scream. This isn’t helping anyone!”

Tommy and Zero glared at each other. After a long, tense moment, Tommy looked away. “Fine. Agree to disagree, I guess.”

Zero snorted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tommy boy.”

The van lapsed into an uneasy quiet, broken only by the rumble of the engine and the occasional squeak of the wipers against the windshield.

Jimbo leaned forward. “Dude, you ever think about how the earth might be flat? And like, the moon is really just a spotlight or something?”

Tommy stared at him. “What?”

“No, think about it. It makes sense, right? I mean, have you ever seen the curve of the earth? Have you ever been to space?”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jimbo, I swear to God…”

Zero waved a hand. “Flat-Earthers are there to distract you from the real issues.”

“I said, enough!” Roxy snapped.

The van lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, the air thick with tension.

Tommy sat back in his seat, his mind racing. He knew he should say something, should try to smooth things over, to bring them back together. But the words wouldn’t come.

Jimbo shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “Anyone know any good jokes?”

No one answered.

“Alright, alright.” He raised a finger. “Here’s one. Why don’t zombies eat comedians?” He looked around. “Anyone?”

No response.

“Because they taste funny.” Jimbo sucked his teeth. “Ooh, tough crowd.”

He tapped his chin. “Okay. How about this one? What’s a zombie’s least favourite food? Rox?”

Roxy shrugged.

“Fast food—they can never catch it!”

Laila groaned.

Jimbo clapped. “See? You are listening!”

“Can someone stop him,” Laila said.

“I’ve got loads more of these.” Jimbo grinned at her. “What’s a zombie’s favourite street?”

Laila rolled her eyes. “Go on.”

“A dead end!”

Roxy sighed. “Zero, can you pull over?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“We should let Jimbo out here. He can walk the rest of the way.”

Zero chuckled. “She’s got a point, Jimbo. Any more dad jokes and we’re cutting you loose.”

Jimbo nodded. “Understood, dude. Just one more—”

“No!” the others said as one.