Socking zombies, the diary of a human


by Nick Proctor

Monday 9/26/11

When I arrived on campus this morning, I noticed shadows on the other side of a tree: zombies, of course. They were really pretty obvious. I ducked inside Mary Berry and ditched them.

One approached me this afternoon. Recently bitten, he could still speak. “Don’t sock me,” he gurgled. “I just want to talk.” I double-tapped that bastard on principle. Never trust a zombie.

Two were loping around when they spotted a lone female. Unarmed, she did not even try to run. They just gobbled her up. It was sad, but when we rebuild civilization we’ll probably be better off without her fatalistic, loser DNA.

At the beginning of the day, they were easy to evade, but by afternoon they were hunting in packs. Luckily, I found an escort crew for the trip to my car. We popped a few along the way.

Zombies socked: 3

Tuesday 9/27/11

The newly dead seem to retain some habits from life. Despite their alleged overpowering hunger for brains, they still go to class and like to sleep late. Consequently, the early a.m. is a good time to move around campus. Sure the people going to eight o’clock classes look like the living dead, but they are not a real threat.

I’m sad about the fortunes of my Simpson Colloquium. Five are already turned. They seem to take a particular joy in pursuing me.

Zombies socked: 2

Wednesday 9/28/11

After meeting with a prospective student and his mother in my office this morning we walked toward Blank Performing Arts Center so that they could sit in on one of my classes. We took the most direct route, which was not a good idea. Four zombies cornered me between the football field and the swimming pool. “Get to the building,” I yelled at my charges, “You’ll be safe there!”

It took a few minutes to deal with the zombies, and it was challenging since they jumped around a lot and tried to coordinate. After socking them all out, I hoofed it just as reinforcements were starting to show up. All of this was good in terms of survival, but I am a little concerned about what the visitors thought. The possibility of getting your brain eaten by the undead might be a big negative in terms of recruitment. Still, I prefer to look on the bright side.

As a parent, I would appreciate professors who teach things like evasion tactics as well as history and political science. Also, the zombies were unfailingly polite, which is kind of weird when you think about it. Habits of life, I guess.

One of them keyed my class schedule into his mobile today. That’s kind of disturbing. Who knew thumb dexterity would last for so long?

Zombies socked: 8? 9? I’m not sure. It got kind of crazy at one point.

Thursday 9/29/11

There were a lot of them shambling around this morning, but they did not seem coordinated. Maybe their brains are beginning to atrophy. I had to pop quite a few over the course of the day, but I never had to deal with a large group. Have they filled up on the fresh, young brains of naïve first-year students? It must be kind of like eating veal.

The final mission was at eight o’clock tonight, but I got choppered out in the afternoon. The corporal manning the 50-cal said the U.S. government considered me a “strategic asset.” That’s nice.

Zombies socked: 6 (if you count one long-range lob that was total luck).