Last week we explored the zombie psychology and determined that the entire zombie apocalypse plays out heavily in the subconscious. Fear, hate and disgust are the main enemy in the end of days.
The entire idea of a zombie is that the human host has departed from the body, leaving behind a vessel which is inhabited by evil. In other words, the undead woe seems to be irreversible. Successful modern movies like World War Z, Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland use this to emphasis the lost and hopelessness to synthesize with realism. However, Jonathan Levine’s Warm Bodies challenges this very thought.
In the movie, the director chose to showcase the monotone thinking of a zombie that was change by a woman’s emotional investment into it. In other words, the zombie apocalypse was cured by love. This theory may seem farfetched, but it does invoke thought about a possible cure. The decay rate of the brain and body are different because both require different levels to function. For example, we can still live normal lives without a limb. but a damaged mind causes the body to lose control. It is perhaps possible to cure the patient at the early stages of zombification as shown in Warm Bodies.
Love might be a crazy cure, but biology is a tricky thing. Defibrillators revive people restoring rhythm with electric jolts. This simulation could be applied to the brain, having an external stimuli that restarts nerve impulses. To apply this to our narrative, I propose that the whole zombie crisis can be solved if a biological agent is introduced into the brain to repair neural transmissions. However, this can only be done before biological decay consumes the brain.
Chapter 3: Enfeeble
My hands wrapped around, lifting her onto the bed. Slowly, I knelt to the floor and placed my forehead against hers, whispering
“I know it sucks, it really does. But we’re strong. Sarah…”
Her blue eyes hid, replaced by tears. I could feel everything. The same pain, the same hopelessness, the powerlessness. Then, I found it. The warmth of her breath, showering my cheeks. And I went in.
She sucked my lips as it met. Tears mixed and our breathing fell in tune. For a minute, I dared myself to forget why I cried, releasing suffering that haunted for so many years. She let go and looked down at her feet, managing a small smile.
I turned and gazed out the window, wondering how much our first kiss would mean. The silence hung for a while before Sarah spoke,
“Who was it?”
I hesitated for a moment before telling her about my mother. Telling felt much better than hiding. As each word left my mouth, my heart slipped free of the weight that has been pressing down for 15 years. When Sarah heard the whole story, I willed my seemingly weightless body up and sat next to her.
“Pam should be back by now. We were suppose to go shopping later.”
[If You Took The Advice And Played The Music, Turn It Down Here]
Just as Sarah reached for her phone, a scream echoed across the hallway. We rushed to the door and swung it open. The entire floor had done the same, all except the room on the far left where the scream had came. Several heads turned to me and I soon realized that I was the only man on the floor. A female voice let out another burst of terror from the same direction.
“Go check it out.”
Sarah whispered, after noticing her floor mates gazing over.
I ran over to room 2215 half expecting there to be a rape. As I attempted to enter the door, my hands fidget uselessly against the stuck handle. I spoke into the door asking for a reply. Nothing happened for a few seconds before another scream bursted out. I ran my shoulder against the door but the wood was far too solid for a tackle.
“Are you okay?!”
I shouted at the door. A hand reached around my shoulder and pulled me away.
“What’s going on? What are you doing?”
A man roughly 10 years older held my shoulder and stared at me.
“Someone’s inside, screaming or something.”
As he let go of me, I stepped back and took in his appearance. He was wearing blue jeans paired with a grey shirt that had the school’s initial stamped across it. The man reached into his pocket and bought out a couple of objects before producing what seemed to be a room keycard.
The door opened wide and the man spoke again, sounding surprised this time
“Break it up!”
He entered the room and left the door ajar. I stepped around the door frame and looked inside. Room 2215 was unlike Sarah’s room, it had posters of pop singers and flowery décor. It took me a moment to realize that the red on the carpet was not by design. I pushed the door till it was fully open and saw a girl lying on the floor, with blood leaving her arms. The man who I suddenly realized to be a janitor was engaged in a wrestle with another person at the side of the room.
I quickly approached the lifeless body and checked for breathing.
The janitor yelled. I looked up and saw him holding a woman to the wall while she had her teeth in his left arm. Stunned by the scene, I watched the entire conflict glued to the floor. The woman plunged her jaw into his forehand, spilling blood all over the room. The janitor tried to pull her head away but the weight of the biter was pushing down on him. He swung her from the wall and slammed her down. She got up and went after his shoulder before he could get away. Out of nowhere, the janitor swung his right fist and pummeled the woman’s head against the bed stand.
“What are you doing?”
He directed at me. I tried to say something but the shock left me speechless. Before I could offer any assistance, fingers reached out and grabbed the janitor’s shirt. He turned his head and was greeted by the bloodiest french kiss I have ever seen. I threw myself out the door and pulled the handle shut.
I stared at the wooden door in disbelief before another shriek greeted my ears. Somewhere in a distance, a finger pointed at me. I looked down and realized that blood had smeared my shirt. Sarah’s voice came to me,
“I don’t know, there was blood everywhere and this crazy girl was biting everyone”
Before I could say anything else, a loud grunt came from the other side of the door followed by the sound of a broken vase or light stand.
I yelled as Sarah reached for the door. She turned around and looked at me.
“Its fucked up! I don’t know what’s going on but please don’t try to get in.”
I pulled myself up and dragged Sarah away by her hand. People around us were asking questions.
“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on but you need to call the police. Tell them theres a murder or something.”
As we entered her room, Sarah swung her hand free.
“What’s going on?”
This post has introduced the idea of a zombie cure and also started our very first encounter with a zombie in the narrative. Next week we will look at Zombie Survival 101.
Music: (Found this on youtube, I take no credit)