(When I wrote Zombie Killa, to my surprise and delight, real zombie fans read it. To my chagrin, they hated it. It's a comedy. There's precious little gunplay and gore. This novel is my response to that... It's more feral humans than zombie, as such, but the end result is the same. At any rate, if you come up with a title for it at some point, let me know. Please. I have no idea what to call it, and I've never had a problem naming my works before.)
For Catt Dahman, Sabrina Renee Dollar, Christine Masters, Stephanie Travitsky, Jimmy, Craig, Doug, and Rodney.
Chapter 1 - What's Past is Prologue
Going see Drug Doug was always a pain, but it was definitely worth it. The dude had three homes, two of them well-hidden. The third was a sort of floating fortress. He called it his duck blind, but what he really meant was that it was his decoy house.
But before I get into all that, I guess I should give you my back story. If there's anyone left to read this, I guess. My name is Jimmy Bear, and I brought about the end of the world.
I'm not writing this as a confession, but an explanation. As you'll see, what happened was inevitable. I just accidentally accelerated the process. Doug says it's a good thing, ultimately, and I tend to agree. The N.W.O. was going to do it to us, we just beat them to the punch. That's New World Order, not the wrestling association. I think the world would have been run better by professional wrestlers.
In a sense, it was. If you dismiss the concept of the world being run by a power-hungry, super-rich elite, what can I say? You're fucking stupid.
Doug was a junkie and a coon-ass, but he was the smartest and most educated person I ever met in my short twenty-two year life. And I graduated at the top of my class at L.S.U. For what that's worth, which is next to nothing. I should have been learning how to survive instead.
One of the many books Doug turned me on to was Gary Allen's “None Dare Call It Conspiracy”. And if you think there's no such thing as conspiracy, I hope you don't breed. Despite the title, it's a history book. I looked for anyone to debunk it online, but it never happened. It's really well researched and footnoted, something that appeals to my over-trained academic mind.
Anyway, it details how the Rothschilds. Rockefellers, J.P. Morgan, Andrew Carnegie, and others took over world politics at the end of the 1800s.
Mayer Amschel Rothschild founded several European banks in the mid to late 1800s, and had his sons run them. They were privately owned banks with the appearance of being state-owned. Bank of France, things like that. I'm not too clear on the specifics.
Doug wants me to point out that Rothschild was Jewish. That's not really important is some sort of prejudicial sense, but because there's some slight evidence that Adolf Hitler, half-Jewish, was a bastard Rothschild himself. As a matter of fact, my family, in part, was from Poland. I suspect they changed their religion to Catholic when they immigrated in order to fit in.
The super-elite's religion was money and power, anyway. Some would say Satanism. Whatever it was, it wasn't based on race or nationality.
So the Rothschilds took over European banking. Just like until last year when shit went bad, they made their money off of wars and national debts More importantly, by withholding money from one side or the other, they could determine the outcomes in advance. I haven't been able to research it, but Doug says they even funded both sides of the civil war.
So,, anyway, at the end of the nineteenth century, these families decided to quit competing with each other and take the whole enchilada. They created tax-free foundations to protect their wealth, them implemented an income tax on the rest of us.
I say these things not to preach or pontificate, but as a prelude to what happened later. The event, I call it. And at this point, you're either a believer, or dead. It's all moot now, as Doug says. Did you know 'moot' actually meant 'up for debate'? Language is a slippery thing.
The other thing I should mention going into this is that I'm schizophrenic. Well, schizoid personality type is the actual term. It's sort of borderline. Basically, extreme stress or lack of sleep, linked to drug use, in my case, can bring it out. So it's sometimes difficult for me to distinguish between reality and imagination, at times. This was also a factor, as I initially dismissed what was happening to us as hallucination.
Now I wish that had been the case.