like you’re stupid. He may have a point. “And my cable bill? The cable doesn’t even work anymore. I’m not paying this.”
“I’m not with the cable company, sir . . . ,” you start.
“Get the hell off of my lawn.”
You make your way back down the road, feeling a bit foolish. Before you get far, though, a little round woman comes running after you. “Wait!” she says, panting. “Are you really with the post office? Our son lives on campus in the city and we haven’t heard anything from him since all this started. Can you get him a letter?”
She’s staring at you with big, sad mom-eyes. If you agree to look for her son, turn to page 100.
If you try to nip this thing in the bud before it turns into some kind of unbearable Kevin Costner drama, turn to page 215.
Back
47
You wanted to get this group of yokels to safety, and you suppose you’ve taken care of that. Daryl seems particularly torn up about your departure, but neither he nor any of the others are interested in leaving their newfound paradise. They’re as happy as pigs in an air-conditioned supermarket stuffed with canned and packaged goods.
You hit the streets, but now that you’re on your own, you’re kind of at a loss. Zombies are everywhere, and although they don’t move terribly fast, if you’re not careful, they could box you into a corner, especially since you’re not familiar with this part of town. Maybe you should head west, you think, back toward your apartment. It might not be suited for a long-term stay, but at least you can regroup, get a change of clothes, and try to find something to use as a weapon.
Then your eye is drawn to colorful posters of men and women in skin-tight outfits beating each other up in a nearby store window. A comic book shop! It’s been a while since you’re gotten any new comics—if you can get in, why not stop by and pick some up?
If you think taking comics from the store basically boils down to looting and head straight home instead, turn to page 17.
If you’re okay with the looting, and figure that since the world’s going to end you might as well have plenty of reading material, turn to page 132.
Back
48
The truth is, with everything you’ve witnessed over the last 24 hours, you trust Ernie more than a bunch of toothpaste guys who couldn’t figure out that grinding up dead animal brains was a bad idea in the first place. “Stay away!” Gary shouts as Ernie approaches his desk. “You’ll never learn my secrets. My password is like a zen koan beneath a layer of unbreakable encryption!”
“It’s ‘passw0rd,’ with a zero instead of an O,” Ernie says, fiddling with the keyboard. “That’s like the most commonly used CEO password since the IT guys started making them use numbers and letters combined.” It doesn’t take your friend long to find what he’s looking for. “Look here,” he says, pointing at an undecipherable flow chart on the screen. “When they did the test samples they just added smartening crystals to the already-made toothpaste. But in the manufacturing process, it goes in earlier, before the fluoride,” he pauses, giving Candice a glare, “and before they activate the extreme whitening compound. That’s why they didn’t catch it earlier—the chemicals react differently when combined in a different order.”
“So how does this help us undo it?” Candice asks.
“It doesn’t,” Ernie replies. “It’s lethal poison. Those zombies are literally dead before they rise up again, and I don’t think we can do anything about it except kill them more.” Gears in your mind start to turn, however. The paste seems to pacify the undead completely, at least for a while. If you could mass produce it, re-killing them would certainly be a lot easier. Ernie checks inventory levels (the information is accessible, but the plant itself, unfortunately, is located off site), and finds that there should be an ample supply of raw materials there.
“Once
“I’m not with the cable company, sir . . . ,” you start.
“Get the hell off of my lawn.”
You make your way back down the road, feeling a bit foolish. Before you get far, though, a little round woman comes running after you. “Wait!” she says, panting. “Are you really with the post office? Our son lives on campus in the city and we haven’t heard anything from him since all this started. Can you get him a letter?”
She’s staring at you with big, sad mom-eyes. If you agree to look for her son, turn to page 100.
If you try to nip this thing in the bud before it turns into some kind of unbearable Kevin Costner drama, turn to page 215.
Back
47
You wanted to get this group of yokels to safety, and you suppose you’ve taken care of that. Daryl seems particularly torn up about your departure, but neither he nor any of the others are interested in leaving their newfound paradise. They’re as happy as pigs in an air-conditioned supermarket stuffed with canned and packaged goods.
You hit the streets, but now that you’re on your own, you’re kind of at a loss. Zombies are everywhere, and although they don’t move terribly fast, if you’re not careful, they could box you into a corner, especially since you’re not familiar with this part of town. Maybe you should head west, you think, back toward your apartment. It might not be suited for a long-term stay, but at least you can regroup, get a change of clothes, and try to find something to use as a weapon.
Then your eye is drawn to colorful posters of men and women in skin-tight outfits beating each other up in a nearby store window. A comic book shop! It’s been a while since you’re gotten any new comics—if you can get in, why not stop by and pick some up?
If you think taking comics from the store basically boils down to looting and head straight home instead, turn to page 17.
If you’re okay with the looting, and figure that since the world’s going to end you might as well have plenty of reading material, turn to page 132.
Back
48
The truth is, with everything you’ve witnessed over the last 24 hours, you trust Ernie more than a bunch of toothpaste guys who couldn’t figure out that grinding up dead animal brains was a bad idea in the first place. “Stay away!” Gary shouts as Ernie approaches his desk. “You’ll never learn my secrets. My password is like a zen koan beneath a layer of unbreakable encryption!”
“It’s ‘passw0rd,’ with a zero instead of an O,” Ernie says, fiddling with the keyboard. “That’s like the most commonly used CEO password since the IT guys started making them use numbers and letters combined.” It doesn’t take your friend long to find what he’s looking for. “Look here,” he says, pointing at an undecipherable flow chart on the screen. “When they did the test samples they just added smartening crystals to the already-made toothpaste. But in the manufacturing process, it goes in earlier, before the fluoride,” he pauses, giving Candice a glare, “and before they activate the extreme whitening compound. That’s why they didn’t catch it earlier—the chemicals react differently when combined in a different order.”
“So how does this help us undo it?” Candice asks.
“It doesn’t,” Ernie replies. “It’s lethal poison. Those zombies are literally dead before they rise up again, and I don’t think we can do anything about it except kill them more.” Gears in your mind start to turn, however. The paste seems to pacify the undead completely, at least for a while. If you could mass produce it, re-killing them would certainly be a lot easier. Ernie checks inventory levels (the information is accessible, but the plant itself, unfortunately, is located off site), and finds that there should be an ample supply of raw materials there.
“Once
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