The likelihood of zombies rising up and trying to eat your face isn’t the point. What is the point is that if zombies do rise up you need to be prepared to kill them or you’ll get eaten.
Crossed is a graphic novel written by Garth Ennis, drawn by Jacen Burrows, and published via Avatar Press. The story is set in a world where suddenly there are people who “stop being nice, and start being real.” Unfortunately, “real” in this scenario is bloodthirsty, rape-crazy, and straight up ultra-violent.
“Crossed” is how the infected in this universe are described because they develop a cross-like rash across their faces. The rash isn’t an issue. What is and issue is that fact that the infected, unlike other apocalyptic infected, want to rape you to death and mutilate you and destroy you as slowly and horrifically as possible. Because that’s fun now, and okay, because no one can or will stop them. Don’t get me wrong, the Crossed can and do feel pain — but they love it and it won’t slow them down. So, either kill them dead or don’t get caught.
One of the main themes in Crossed was not getting caught. Our protagonists pushed on and on in a constant effort to not get caught by the Crossed until eventually they realized that there are some serious flaws in a plan to live just so you won’t die.
anninyn and I both read volume one recently and needed to discuss it. So we did. Together. In detail. With spoilers, and swears, and graphic descriptions, and even some spoilers for the movie Serenity (which, if you haven’t seen you need to; so, go fix that ASAP).
Come the chaos of the apocalypse, people are going to die. Maybe en masse. Maybe slowly, but surely. Maybe by accidents. But definitely by murder. And that’s okay.
Every so often we’ll need to kill some fool who just refuses to act right or find their way to our good side. Congrats, Fool. You’re going to be an example; your life officially has meaning.
Examples of totally justifiable post-apocalyptic times to kill some folks:
A.The other day I saw school bus in the city and a squad of cheerleaders loading themselves onto it. That was weird. No sports team requiring encouragement, just a bus full of high school cheerleaders.
I, and a number of others, looked on quizzically. “hmm, that’s unusual,” we thought collectively.
But then there were a few others who were looking on not quizzically but lustfully.
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Grown ass men stared with their mouths agape to allow unencumbered panting as their eyes bugged, unblinking and their brows quirked expectantly.
Expectantly? What the fuck were they expecting?
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A strong wind? A well-timed tumble? A panty apocalypse paired with a strong wind and a well-timed tumble?
a.In an apocalypse situation, that brightly colored band of super-coordinated bitches look like a heard of wounded baby gazelle to the men of the city playing the part of oversized, hungry Serengeti cats.
b.In the post-apocalyptic world, from the first offence, this cheer squad will need to make an example of some fool to prevent further attempts at victimization. Continue reading “Post-Apocalyptic People To Kill”