Post apocalypse. Nuclear war. People seem ok. I know that’s only until food and water run out. And zombies. Soon there will be zombies. And women will fear rape and violence at every moment. There will be no laws, no government. And most people are wankers.
I’ve travelled back in time to just before the first bomb to rob a bank. I panic and leave with nothing. I see the rocket in the sky, and survive by hiding behind a low wall.
I talk to someone about how Africa will survive. Apart from Cape Town and Jberg.
I’m exploring an empty station. Trains frozen, doors all open. No zombies. I tell my friends to stick together.
We meet young soldiers with weapons but no ammo. We go with them to the nearest place with ammo. We pass people, slowly becoming zombies, dying from the radiation.
Biker gangs control the town. We break into an information centre. A photo album identifies Henry. We must keep him alive, find him before the gangs do. In empty spaces in the album, drawings of nurses who will administer deadly wasp venom to patients.
We are surprised by a biker. I escape, and run, looking for weapons. There’s a clothes shop, with a samurai sword. I grab it and return to my friends. They’re in a van. Another vehicle pulls up. Gangsters. I pull out my sword. It’s like aluminium foil. It barely damages one of the guys jumper. My friends don’t take advantage of this to escape, instead making speeches about what is the morally right thing to do.
I’m caught. I know I’ll be tortured, with something worse than silver foil and clove oil.