Fear and Loathing After the Bomb: Introducing St-Brigid
These fucking kids. Before the Collapse, before the zombies, before society went to hell in the handbasket that sways back and forth in the clutches of only the cruelest and most cut-throat of the ‘survivors’, before any of this shit; kids had video games. Children, by their nature, are violent assholes. Lock two kids up in a room for a couple of days I will guarantee you that one or both will be dead when you get back. Maybe their grubby little hands will be around each other’s throats, locked in an adorable double-murder. Or maybe one, greedier and crueler than the other, will end up ankle deep in the entrails and viscera of the other. Worse, he’ll have a smile on his face, a real shit eating grin (the fact that he may have also resorted to actual shit-eating only a part of the problem) like he had done nothing wrong. Fucking kids.
As the 20th century came to a close and the 21st century came kicking and screaming into existence (assuming that the savvy reader of my articles still uses the Gregorian calendar and not some either ancient and useless or modern and useless measurement of chronology) we found that the way to temper these violent little shits’ predilection for killing each other was with video games. Digital wars were waged in their living rooms and other than spouting racial and sexual slurs and profanity at each other, not a single larval human being was harmed.
Not so now. Our calendar makers estimate that we’re in the middle of the 22nd century. The calendar on my derelict computer says it’s November 27th 2156; it’s unseasonably hot for November, so it’s a safe bet that I’m at least a few months off the mark. This relic of a machine is probably one of the only functional data-pushers in a hundred miles. The astute reader should be able to put two and two together at this point: no more readily available computers means no more video games. In fact, there haven’t been video games to keep these little fuckers occupied since the Collapse, which occurred more than 50 years ago.
So what then? They take to the streets, filled with the bloodlust only a child can possess. The gangs, big and small, have agendas. These kids only have an insatiable need for destruction. Most of them are abandoned by the feeble minded owners of a cock and a pussy that decided that bringing another human into this world was a good idea. Most of them will have their heads bashed in by their peers before they can crawl. Just like after the Collapse though, the strongest and the cruelest survive. They propagate their own twisted and violent logic and spread it to the others and a culture of senseless, directionless violence spreads through the streets.
The gangs and the militias kill each other off and leave their dead in the streets with enough frequency that finding a gun or grenade doesn’t take much effort. Finding a knife is easier than finding water. So what do we end up with? Roaming packs of tiny sociopaths armed to the teeth. Not strong, clever or armed enough for most adults to feel threatened, but certainly capable of killing you should you stray from the beaten path at night.
I can imagine that at some point, in the beginning, blowing the brains out of a zombie did it for these kids. Zombies look enough like a human and certainly die enough like a human to sate the violence that lives in all of us. I’ll admit that I’ve taken potshots from my roof at the occasional roaming flesh-eater just for that primal rush of seeing another creature’s brains splatter. All the better if that mindless sack of organs resembles someone who’s bothered me at some point or another. That wasn’t enough violence for these fucking kids though. Of course it wasn’t.
Zombies are slow, dumb and easy to kill. They don’t scream if you cut them. Some of the more dried up walkers don’t even bleed. The thrill of the kill will fade and these kids will turn their sights on something more challenging. They can’t stand up to the gangs and the militia and most of us “normal people” are smart enough to avoid a pack of children easily enough, so they just kill each other.
The kids in my neighborhood are no exception. In fact, they might just be the prime example. My former downstairs neighbor made the mistake of trying to fix the building’s satellite dish the other day and had his throat slit up on the roof for his trouble. I can’t complain; fresh roasted vulture meat is better than the cans of “food” with no expiry date on them that I usually find myself eating.
I don’t know which of the drugged out local fuckups failed to realize that one of their recently deceased friends was carrying a mortar launcher, but however it happened, these fucking kids found it and put it to good use. As of last night my run down 2 bedroom with fancy exterior walls is now a 1 bedroom that just sort of opens up into the world. Don’t get me wrong, the view is great, if you’re into gazing out into a wasteland. If I hadn’t learned a long time ago to sleep close to the center of a building last week’s article would’ve been the last. I also fear that this latest assault has damaged the structural integrity of the complex and may make living here a tad difficult. This whole place will likely collapse the next time two or more sex starved intruders get it in their heads to mix their genetics too vigorously.
So what now? Every bit of technology I rely on is solar powered. My transmission method is safely in orbit (a hacked hundred year old satellite does wonders). When I click “send” on this article a variety of printers all over the world will chug and sputter to life and spit this out in all its printed glory and anyone lucky enough to have a working data connection will have access to it digitally through the usual channels. As always, my pesky little column will manage to push its way into the faces of the cruel and the greedy bastards who like to think that they run things in this world.
However, it seems that as of now I’m effectively homeless. Resorting to the same tactics that the little fuckers who did this to me employ with such great efficiency, I’m now armed. I suppose I could look for another hovel to hole myself up in but fuck it, for the first time in nearly 7 years I’m heading out there. I’m hitting the road.
Fucking kids.
