Blackest Friday

As some of you consider braving the crowds for a 75% off Blu-ray player, or perhaps the most ticklish Elmo ever designed by man, let this excerpt from INFECTED serve to remind you of the depths of depravity that awaits you. Comparable to looting at the start of the zombie apocalypse….

Time to fight the crowds for Blackest Friday, the biggest looting day of the year. Guns, batteries, powdered water; you’ll take it all!

On a Spree

Have you ever seen the YouTube videos about Black Friday sales? It looks like a zombie invasion—and that’s just for videogame consoles and designer kitchenware. Today, people are looting for their lives, and the chaos in the streets makes post-hurricane Katrina scavenging look like a sleepy Borders bookstore on a Wednesday afternoon. You know, the ones that closed due to lack of business.

Cars are crashing into anything and everything in an effort to get whatever as fast as possible. People are smashing windows just because the world’s ending. This is going to be bad.

You head straight for the sporting goods megastore in search of a gun. You’re not sure if there’s a waiting period, but you’re thinking it’ll be waived today. Besides, you’ve only got a hammer and a steak knife; not ideal for home defense.

From the looks of the parking lot, the insanity has already begun to make its way here: people pay no mind to parking spaces or any other laws designed to keep order. It’s total Lord of the Flies madness.

Inside, the crowds seem to be cooperating. The employees are still taking payments, and people are happy to charge it, knowing the credit card bill collectors will have a hell of a time in the upcoming months. Some sprint down the aisles with their arms loaded to capacity; others use shopping carts as battering rams. Polite society hasn’t crumbled yet, but it’s certainly strained.

It looks like the rifle racks were the first to go. Disappointed, and about to turn and look for other supplies, you see a handgun on the ground resting under one of the shelves, just barely in view. You pick it up. There’s a lock on the trigger—to keep people from using it in the store—and evidently it was abandoned by a frustrated shopper. Time to see if you can find the keys.

“Give me that piece,” a voice from behind commands. You turn to see who is speaking. The man in question looks polite enough in his business suit, but the baseball bat he’s carrying (and the manner in which he holds it) tells another story. “I’m not asking.”

  • “Go fuck yourself.” Go to page 124

  • Give it to him. You can get some other supplies, then hole up back home. As long as you properly barricade yourself, you shouldn’t need a gun. Go to page 138
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