A couple times now, I’ve heard the government’s got a Z-day plan.
For those who slept through Zombie 101, Z-day is that inevitable hour when the clock strikes apocalypse o’clock and the undead begin trolling the streets for living snacks on legs. And while there was indeed a plan for this at the Pentagon, it was actually just a training exercise using an outlandish example. However, it is surmised that what would go down IRL isn’t terribly far off from what you’d get combining Hollywood with the Holocaust – quarantines, the CDC getting involved, doing experiments on the still-alive-infected, and giving the finger to the unhealthy. Even though there’s no (known) plan as of yet, our idea of Z-day would actually combine three shit-that-actually-happens dangers we do have plans and procedures for: pandemic, riots, and infrastructure collapse. So, if Romero, Resident Evil, or Max Brooks’ visions came to fruition…
… what’s the plan look like?
Eh… not so much.
After identifying a pandemic, the CDC would be flown in to investigate why all the vegans in L.A. suddenly did an about-face to feast on familiar faces, Hannibal style. Along with causes, they look at containment options and possible cures (dude – I wonder if they call that “The 3 C’s”: causes, containment, and cures? I totes bet they do). They even have the authority to quarantine folk individually – or as a whole city – which can mean anything from putting them on house arrest to herding them like slaughterhouse cows to one public place. Although the state or local government can technically call for quarantine sans the CDC’s presence, they’d need them before they could get the military on board. And if I’m in charge when time’s of the essence, I think I’d rather just go ahead and get the disease experts in right away so I’d have guns ready (rather than play power games about who’s in charge right up till the world stops spinning).
So, now that we’ve established a pandemic’s hit – who gets help? Well, it’s prioritized to the healthy, so let’s see if you qualify to live long but-not-really-prosper-‘cause-its-end-times.
Are you old? NOPE.
Are you sick a lot? Double nope.
Have you been bitten? Double nope and double tap.
Why?
Well, we’ve got droves of dead folk where resource-makers used to be. That means all the people involved in killing your pizza toppings and driving your kale to Whole Foods either don’t exist anymore or have dietary intentions of their own: you. So resources are pretty slim and if you aren’t useful, sorry. You can’t sit with us.
Next, the president calls a federal state of emergency and martial law. Why? No one wants to keep calm and become carrion – so they riot. They riot for supplies. They riot against the quarantines. And they probably go overall crazy just trying to survive – beating each other up for bottled Fiji and flashlights. So, when martial law goes into effect, that means the armed forces are in charge of your local government so they can kick ass and take names if need be.
Downside? It might be tough to dethrone them after the plague abates.
“The president. Duh.”
Finally, FEMA gets in gear. They’re meant to deal with disaster cleanup stuff – like providing aid, delegating authority, and activating the EAS (emergency alert system). And after the rest of the world goes to shit, that’s what’ll still be pinging off the satellites and onto your battery powered radio. They might even do parachute supplies drop offs like in the recent underrated “State of Emergency” flick I saw – if you can announce yourself to them somehow. So, plan ahead and grab flares and a stack of bright colored paper or chalk as the riots break out. That way, you can set off the flares at night and write SOS with something flashy on the roof during the day.
It sounds kinda brutal and unfair, but would you really want to be living with shitty health in a post-apocalyptic world anyway? Also – would you rather go rogue or would you feel safer locked up? Rogue for me – but I think I’d rather get shot than bitten. But if I was decrepit, I’d almost rather get munched than barely survive each day in a hell of after-worldness. And don’t even lie – you know you’re totally half wondering what it’d be like to become zombie. I do too. So let’s make up a secret hand signal so that if either of us becomes undead, we can shoot each other the “OMG this is awesome, don’t kill me again” sign instead of shooting each other in the head.
I promise to chain you up in my shed if you promise to chain me up in yours!
