Damn it always starts like that. At the beginning we talk a bit on TV and in newspapers. "Wash your hands", "Go to your doctor within the first symptoms. We talk with friends like that, at the turn of a conversation and then takes a beer and forget. As if it could not happen to us, not us. And then little small it spreads, you meet more and more people in the street, red eyes, the handkerchief in his hand. Schools were closed "as a precaution", the JT reminds us daily, but it's nothing, it will not happen to us. You begin to worry a little bit, when you learn that one of our friends is seized, it was at home yesterday. In the street this morning, we met some people worried, sometimes hidden (like the Japanese tourists in Paris in the summer, protecting the exhaust of gases).
The epidemic has reached 21 countries, with, according to WHO, 1,124 cases of swine influenza, including 590 in Mexico (25 deaths) and 286 cases in the United States (1 death). Canada, which lists 140 cases, said Monday its first case of "serious" human swine influenza - a girl who is in intensive care at a hospital in Edmonton (West). In Spain, the European country most affected, the number of confirmed cases rose to 54, including 4 have not recently traveled to Mexico.
a few days while accelerating. We report a high mortality rate in Chinese hospitals. The poorest countries are being decimated in a few weeks: first, the marginal, then the children and the elderly ... The Borders are closed, Europe and the U.S. isolate themselves more and more: more from leaving the country, nationals abroad are repatriated and placed in the center of isolation and disinfection. As is the case in every national or international crisis, the masses flock to the malls, buying water and fuel, riots broke out in the neighborhoods at the beginning, and then extend the centers of large cities. The wealthiest families isolate themselves in their homes or flee to the countryside. The number of burglaries increases substantially. The chaos gradually takes root, governments first attempt to calm the game play down, to avoid scenes of panic. Very quickly, however, the army is mobilized around hospitals, major roads and banks. While we thought the worst behind us, rumors reach us: the death would not be contaminated, the mass graves organized by the army on the outskirts of cities are filled with undead, of contaminated back to life, prowling woods and fields.
Nobody believes, certainly not us. It is not a fucking movie. Until we see by the first-floor window overlooking the street, our neighbor, nice grandfather a little crazy, is to tear the throat by what appears to be a girl in the process of decomposition.
For a few days, we remain prostrate at his home, barricaded in his room. Time to digest what is happening. Time to accept that the relative security offered us the company has now disappeared. Unable to join our family, networks of all kinds are useless. The first few days, some trying to reach loved ones, but the corpses littering the sidewalks, and scary screams loud during the night, we quickly discouraged. The hardest thing is to live with this constant fear of contamination. And if I got sick? And if I was immune? Is it too early to be thinking out of the woods? If I go out, do I not likely to catch this fucking H1N1?
H1N1, everyone has forgotten what it meant. There are only two types of people now: contaminated, and others.
Hunger drives us out. It's been a month since our living space extends from the bedroom to the bathroom, the bathroom to the bedroom. The rainwater collected on the edge of the window begins to stagnate. One is alone, hungry and start to lose some notions of time, danger, envy.
The first output is not the scariest. The second is much more. Perhaps because of adrenaline the first time are no longer there: the fear is still there, her, but without that sense of discovery, the unknown again. The second exit is when we realize that our lives now, it's just that, and it will be only this: To risk his skin for a packet of biscuits, risk his neck every day.
suite everyone knows it: we will meet with survivors at first suspicious but actually very nice, very nice but other which one should be wary. We will be visiting a few scares abandoned supermarket. It will kill our first zombie, the head turned away, a little nauseated. And then it will take some taste. Baser instincts take precedence over the "social pact". Betrayals, backstabbing, the honor is more rigor in times of crisis. We will meet in a band, a pack of survivors, and we seek a safe place to shop there.
And then one day, distracted, we let chopper by one of those damn monsters degenerate fetching wood in the grove behind the school that now serves as our HQ
So wash your hands and avoid Mexico.
