Notional Left 4 Dead Movie Poster
Notional Left 4 Dead Movie Poster
Now, if only they could make them bigger and more animated
It’s been what? Five years now since Rick was smacked on the head with a shovel while prowling outside his own home.
Did you ever get the idea that Rick died right there an then and the rest of “The Walking Dead” has been some kind of melodramatic Hell? A Purgatory for Rick who woke up after the world had ended but didn’t move on with his family.
I’m beginning to think that if it isn’t; perhaps now it’s time to just end the thing.
All of the twists have been turned; kids have been eaten. Babies blown to bits by shotguns; rapists roam freely.
If Robert Kirkman hasn’t been describing Hell, he’s bound to be close.
The Walking Dead 70 drops the remaining survivors in what appears to be a safe town; and I say that with all the foreboding we should just expect now. There is no safe town for Rick and crew, right? The series can’t possibly just become a day-to-day about surviving comfortably… right?
If this panel doesn’t set off your “Oh shit that kid is getting beat at home alarm” then you haven’t been reading this comic. Yeah, and uh, that is rick now. He must be hungry all the time now.
Nothing plot wise goes down in this issue; however as there hasn’t been a real plot since the end of the Governor plot-line why should that matter? I think I continue to read this comic just to find out what happens in the end. Please, Rob, End this soon.
Issue 65 Opens with the Survivors holed up in a church after being attacked from the tree line outside. Needless to say Rick is pissed off and ready to spit bullets.
Rightly so. It’s been about 4 weeks maybe 6 since his wife was killed by the governer and his men. Rick has been on the edge of really dangerous for a while now.
Issue 65 leaves us wondering if maybe he has stepped over the edge, (not really)
Speaking of which, if infected meat doesn’t turn you, doesn’t that mean that the “fairly fresh” dead are a good source of iron?
Yum, wandering Long Pig Sashimi!
This is a good issue, but it is over so quickly I’m about ready to chew the pages.
After about what 10 issues of “Let’s Shit on the main cast some more” we get an issue where Rick is neither a giant blubbering douche or leading his son into mortal danger. While it opens with Dale getting served as a nice leg-o-retiree but at least it’s amusing; see, Dale is laughing! It’s not all bad being kidnapped by cannibals during a zombie apocalypse, clearly there’s some kind of upside.
The Cannibals would be a nice change of pace if it wasn’t for the roving rapists from a few issues back. The Man’s inhumanity towards man plotline was pretty much settled during the climax of the fourth year with Rick losing his entire family and 75% of the main cast dying. Adding more “Oh, here’s some more people who gave up on humanity after the big die off” is just ridiculous, it might be more realistic (in comic logic) but it’s not really. People tend to bunch up in adversity and while some fall to criminality and lawlessness, the majority try to get by and survive, a cannibal community doesn’t exactly have survival in mind, does it?
Oh well, overlooking this clunker of a plot point (seriously, it just sets up more people for murder by Rick and Son and doesn’t really make them any more heroic, just bloody handed) besides all that we don’t get to hear from the magic phone in this issue (so no insight into Rick’s mental state either). There is a bit of action too, but it’s more of the “RUN AWAY” kind:
I won’t spoil it, since it sets up the first really badass moment we’ve seen in a while.
So thank-you Mr. Kirkman for making Issue 64 interesting, maybe the thought of a TV Series won’t seem so bad in light of an equally uplifting issue 65
The building shaddered in time with the sounds that woke the sleeping people huddled throughout the Feldex building. Thumping and bass-rich blows pounded the whole structure. When the people in the shaken offices looked outside, they could see buildings collapsing around them. Skyscrapers that had dominated the skyline were falling all around the Feldex building, scorched buildings gave up their skeletons and fell upon the streets. Dust and debris flowed through the streets now like angry crowds, blanketing them in brown, choking demise.
Janice had found Frank overnight; he was curled up in an empty office and had slept through the horrifying night. The corpses on the balcony had given up slamming themselves into the windows and doors and simply dived off of the edge of the building into the waiting streets.
The office was quiet now save for the noise of the Office buildings of Saint Paul dying as surely has the people that had occupied them had.
Security Chief Mike Pendegras came on to the PA:
“Ladies and Gentlemen; this is the security Chief. Our building is in no danger of falling. We have not suffered the damage that the fallen buildings have. We are intact and remain secure. We caution you again to remain in your offices and to report any activity that seems threatening or dangerous.”
After he clicked off the PA, Mike Pendegrass exhaled and tried to slump into his chair. His teams had swepth the building for any more “Zombies” and locked the main staircase tight. Nothing from the 25th floor or above was going to come down that way again; no one would be going up again either.
Chief Pendegras had received a call from his dead father overnight; he had thought it was a dream at first; but some of his team had received calls from their relatives too. Chief Pendegras wasn’t one to accept the supernatural; but his faith in the solidity of his convictions had been sorely tempted.
“Chief!, Chief! There is an APC outside of the building!” it was one of the new kids up on 13. “Chief, do you get me?”
“I get ya kid, where is it? Over”
“Chief, it’s right outside the front entrance, it’s got a scoop up front like a bulldozer, it pushed through like a snow plow! Chief, there is a sign painted on the top: 555-573-7878”
The Chief recognized a cell-phone number when he heard one; “OKay kid. Keep an eye on it. Chief out”
Chief Pendegrass picked up his cell phone and dialed the number:
“Hello, Disaster recovery. Were are you calling from?”
“This is Security Chief Mike Pendegras. Before I tell you where I am; tell me who you are.”
“Sir, I am a coordinator from a former Fema Unit stationed in Saint Paul. I am tasked with coordinating the APCs we have on hand to retrieve survivors and send them back through to Earth”
“So, the scientist on the phones was real?”
“Yes sir. Where are you?”
“I’m not sure about all of this; some strange shit is going down here Ma’am. Can you have the APC’s around the city flash some kind of friendly si..”
Outside the building, Mike Pendegras heard the thunder of a belt-fed machine gun firing.
“Chief! The soldiers in the APC, they are shooting at people in the street! Holy Shit! The people, they are getting back up and running at the APC! FUCK! The soldier on the tank blew their heads off.”
“OKay Kid, I got you. Over”
“Listen Fema Lady. What is going on here?”
“I thought that the communication last night was clear. We are on an extrasolar planet and we are sending people home as fast as we can.”
“My phone was OFF when that call came in”
“Sir, If I may be frank. If you don’t think we have the technology to turn phones on remotely, you haven’t been watching enough movies. Let me be clear, a scientist teleported a massive section of Saint Paul to another planet, turning on cell phones remotely is within our scope”
“Fair enough Ma’am. How, precisely do we decide who goes back in that APC outside?”
“You have an APC nearby? Excellent! What number is it”
“Kid, 13. What number is on that APC?”
“Ma’am, the APC outside is labelled NG-101”
“Thank-you Mr. Pendegrass, please send out 10 people to meet the APC and be transported to our holding facility. We will send a bus out for the rest as soon as we have up-armored enough of them for the trip. Send only the people who could defend themselves in a fight sir, they may need to leave the APC and proceed on foot.”
“I’ll send some people out in 30 minutes”
“Thank-you Mr. Pendegrass. Wil you be joining them?”
“No Ma’am, I’ll ride security until we have this building empty.”
“Alright Sir, please keep in mind that we are not sure how long we can keep sending people home”
Mike Pendegrass thought about this for a while before responding.
“You keep the door open; we’ll get people home and I’ll get home in time to complain to your superior about your flippant attitude during a crisis”
Chief Pendegras could feel the woman on the end of the line smile.
“It’s a date sir”
Chief Pendegrass flipped his phone closed and turned on the PA.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I need 10 volunteers who have either combat experience or combat training. Make your presence known to the security team on your floor and we will escort your to the main lobby. Thank-you for your cooperation”
Almost instantaneously, his radio lit up “Chief, what the fuck? Are we recruiting deputies?”
“Guys, this is the chief. We are recruiting some people to run Pony Express, escort people to the main lobby and then return to your posts. We’re going to round up ten people to make a run to the Fema center and head for home; if they make it, we’ll send more. The rest WILL be deputized.”
A chorus of, ‘okay chief, got it’ sounded back. Chief Pendegrass was left to think about the voice on his phone and the prospect of leaving on the APC outside.
Nick Aten ambles over the bloody remains of a boy evicerated by his own mother to eat a burger and shoot the shit with a friend. The next day his younger brother is dead and the adults have taken up the hobby of killing everyone under the age of 20, all adults everywhere. Now Nick has to get away from it all and slip his parents as they hunt him across england.
Blood Crazy is a recounting by Nick Aten of the year that Adult humanity stopped caring for the youth and instead began turning the bodies of the young into massive necropolises and temples of death across the countryside.
Anywhere there were young people, the adults would gather and destroy them.
Nick spends a whole year on the run from place to place; finding his way from callow youth to something else.
Simon Clark does a fantastic job of making the story fast paced enough to keep you reading and 300 pages in I realized I’d read the majority of it in one go. Bravo I strongly recommend Blood Crazy!
I’m not exaggerating when I say that I read this one quickly, I usally only read in small drips and have spent MONTHS not reading a DUNE novel, but I gave this book a minute while I was in disposed and could not stop reading it. It’s not high literature; and once again we have a post-apocalyptic hero that can’t walk 20 yards without tripping over yet anothere willing woman who needs him to make love to her and plant his seed. I wish that I was exaggerating this point.
The “cause” of the adults going crazy is explained; it’s a bit weak. I don’t think it detracts from the book at all, but the explaination is weak.
This book does the oppostite of “Graceling” when it comes to travel, the travel portions are either mad dashes from blood-crazed adults or treks across wastelands that are leading urgently to somewhere; not detracting from the pace or the action. It was a relief when a character found a safe place to sleep; I cared that they got to sleep comfortably.
Nick Aten; the main character is somewhat stereotypical lead character. He’s smart, but not an intellectual, strong, but not too tough. Cocky but not cock-sure… I could go on. He’s not so generic as to be an everyman, but he’s no stand-out.
The “Bully” character which serves as the human plot point for most of the story has a back story that I think that Simon Clark almost maliciously leaves off, going so far as to cut the character off when he attempts to vocalize his perceived injustice with Nick. I was most frustrted with this; Tug Slatter is a bully and a thug, but he is certainly more than that and we are NOT given more than a glance at whatever motivates him and his misanthropy.
All in all; I will recommend this one to fans of Post-Apocalyptic survival novels. It was a good quick read and worth picking up.
The gravel stopped crunching and Patrick thought, for a moment, that he was alone on the roof. The flopping monsters that had poured from the door had been dispatched like his former partner and he had pitched the majority into the flaming street below; crossing himself when he could for whatever passed for souls in their grotesque corpses.
Jacks corpse had stood again, stretched and began to lope at Patrick again, his face an obscene smile with mouth agape and askew.
“Jack, shit.” Patrick ran towards his partner and kicked hm in the chest, toppling the bloody thing over the side of the roof and sailing to the street below.
The roof was quiet and empty of danger now, Patrick walked with all due care to the roof door and looked down the staircase for any evidence of more monsters waiting in the dark. Finding none he turned his radio on and called out for the chief.
“Chief, it’s 13. I’m 5 by 5 here.”
“Pat? Good. We’ve just shut the tenants on 25 in the security office, join me in the main stairwell.”
“Got ya Chief. 13 coming in”
Patrick Farrel had never once killed a man in anger; not in the line of duty either. His tour in Iraq had been a relativley short one, with a leg injury getting him an early reprieve from the desert. Security work paid a bit better and couldn’t normally involve much actual fighting. The busiest days for Patrick had been chasing kids out of the stairwell after sneaking in after-hours. He hadn’t known Jack long enough for his death to really hurt, but the fight had left him like the long-termers at the VA, lost in the moment, staring into the distance for the next encounter.
He met the guys from Unit 11 as they trotted towards the main stairwell doors, they were smiling and chatting about the tenants.
“Did you see what they were doing in the one office? I think they were trying to film their own little porno in there or something… hey Pat. What the fuck was going on up top?” Patrick knew the smaller one; Henry “Hank” Jacobs. Young, former cop, fired for some kind of harassment issue.
“Yeah, they were naked, all of them, one dude had a camera and they were in a pile in the middle of the office, like 20 people all getting it on!” The bigger one had just kept on about the discovery in the office. Patrick just walked on to the door and knocked. Chief Pendegrass opened up and held the door for the Security Guards to walk out. He gave Patrick as much space as possible, given the gore that coated his uniform.
“Chief, we got some shit up here like you wouldn’t believe. Fucking Zombies or some shit. I fought about 6 of them, Jack included. I pitched them off of the roof as they came at me, I fucking shot two of them in the chest and they got right up, Jack too.” Patrick found his tongue and wouldn’t let go “Chief, Man. They kept on coming, like they was gonna tear me up like Jack. I hadda kill them.”
Patrick could feel himself losing it. He caught himself and led the walk down to the 24rth and down, sealing the doors as he went. He described the whole fight to the Chief, who remained quiet and offered no judgment or comment. When they had finished the sweep to the ground floor, Patrick had told his story a few times and the guys from Unit 11 had simply gone silent and stopped meeting Patrick’s eyes.
Chief Pendegrass put his hand on PAtrick’s should and led him to the Security offices and offered him a seat and a drink.
“Pat, I believe you. I’ve looked outside, I can hear that stuff out there. Something has happened to Saint Paul and I’m not clear as to what. There were two suns out there today, things have changed in a big way. Find yourself a clean set of clothes and dump that shit you’re wearing in a bag, tie it off and dump it deep in a dumpster or down the chute. Go nowhere alone and keep your radio on from now on.” The Chief stood up to his full height and looked deep in thought.
Patrick got up, went to his locker and stripped off his gore covered clothes, dumping them like requested. He cleaned himself up as best he could in the showers and found a new uniform and some of the tactical gear the other guys had on. When he caught his face in the mirror, he was sure that it was still him looking out, but there was a small strangeness in his eyes, like when he first stepped off of the plane at Rammstein in Germany. He had been through something and come back broken.
I was excited for months about the prospect of a Zombie Walk here in London this past weekend, but as the day came closed it became clear that the whole thing was some kid’s idea and not anything serious. Not that Zombie dress-up needs to be serious, but it didn’t seem to have anything behind it save a desire to get out on the weekend. No permits no organization not even a flash mob kind of thing, just some kids.
Oh well. It was called off at the last minute (as far as I know) maybe there will be one in the fall.
I finally appear to have contracted the same twitter disorder as Joel Johnson, where my twitter kinda-sorta works. I guess I’ll reserve complaint (as it IS free) but SweetCron can’t come quicker, really.