Episode 1.0 - Meet Hannah 

Episode Credits:

Amanda Hufford as Hannah

Abigail Turner as Cali

Writing and Sound Design by Damian Szydlo

Sensitivity and Script Reading by Mak Shepard

TRANSCRIPT

FADE IN

[Opens to the sound of nature. Someone is eating something ‘juicy’. Music slowly enters the scene. Let this drag out a bit.]

HANNAH

“So this is the end of the world. Pretty weird right? 

Whoa! Hey! Okay, before you run away screaming… I know what you’re thinking. Probably. 60/40? Let’s just take this slow. I promise, it’ll be a lot easier if I just go ahead and break down the 4th wall now.

Yeah, it’s going to be that kind of story.

Anyways, I’m Hannah. I was 32 when the world ended so let’s just go with that? Great. I love reading, listening to music, swimming and good sushi. Oh, and Italian! I’m pretty much a big ‘ol sucker for a plate of gnocchi gorgonzola, ideally shared by candlelight with a special lady. That’s right, gentleman need not apply… Not that I’m… exactly in demand these days.

That’s because, as you’ve probably noticed by now… I’m a zombie. Maybe even the last one. That’s right, friendo; the pigeon I’m eating as we have this lovely afternoon chat wasn’t exactly my first choice. Or my second choice for that matter. But we’ll get to all that. I promise. Just stick with me.

Because first, it’s time for a history lesson!

[sound effect to start Hannah’s ‘history’ lesson]

So a long, long time ago the world was filled with humans. Towns and cities. You know, the whole civilization thing. People had families and went on vacations. It wasn’t perfect and people sort of sucked but at least we had things. Like shampoo and ice cream. Naturally someone had to go and fuc… FUDGE that all up, so zombies happened. Nobody ever really got the full story on WHY zombies happened, just that they did. Of course that would inevitably lead to World War Z, which would look alot different then the book yet hold some surprising similarities at the same time. One of the biggest and definitely suckiest exceptions was when things got really bad humans started deploying these just… asshole robots to ‘take care’ of us. Advanced asshole robots to be more exact. Which to the surprise of absolutely no science fiction fan ever, of course went skynet on everyone… both human and zombie alike… but that’s a story we’ll get to later.

So let’s just focus on ‘us’ for a second, before I get side tracked again. I don’t know if every zombie has a bitchin’ internal monologue like I do… wait, bitchin’ isn’t a swear, is it? I try not to curse. What I mean to say is that we don’t have a secret language or anything to compare notes, so my zombie expertise only goes as far as what I know about ‘me’. If you’re wondering how we stack up to old hollywood zombies, we’re more ‘runners’ than we are ‘shamblers’ or walkers. We love loud noises and shiny things. Unlike the romero era Z’s, we don’t really rot so much thanks to a cranked up, wolverine-like regeneration. It does get pretty gross if someone hurts me though because instead of ‘healing’ we just kind of regrow body parts as old ones kind of fall off. It’s not pretty and if the damage is too much… sometimes things grow back… wrong. As if our bodies forget what we’re supposed to look. Fortunately, ‘we’ve’ been able to keep this body mostly unbusted…

 Speaking about not pretty, zombies come in a variety of sickly shades ranging from green to purple or even gray… So yeah, eat your heart out audience; this green, sea-sick dead girl pallor is au natural.

What else? Oh! The reason I’m pretty sure that I’m the last of us is because zombies are attracted to other zombies. Not like… sexually. That’s a visual I don’t need in my unlife. But physically. We’re pack creatures and when we get within miles of each other we sort of just… coagulate. Could have honestly picked a better, less gross way to put that, but here we are. I stand by my choices.

Truth is, though you might not know it by looking back at recordings of seemingly rage induced herds of zombies… We actually get really ‘happy’ when we’re together. Unfortunately, we often also get really HUNGRY when we’re together too. I’m not even sure why we eat people and… things, to tell you the truth. I’ve never felt like I’m eating because I NEED to. Food doesn’t help fuel us like it does humans. So as far as I figure, it’s how we show we’re happy. Or want to be happy. ‘You’, dear listener, are our dragon sushi roll binge after a rough day. I suppose you could even say that meat is our love language.

Pretty messed up, right? Really changes how you see zombies, doesn’t it? Well hold on to your hoop because I’m not done blowing your actual mind.

[clears throat awkwardly]

Fine. Maybe it’s not going to blow your mind but let’s get back to me and my hearty helping of pigeon delight. I can’t exactly control most of the things ‘zombie-me’ does. I’m basically what amounts to a backseat driver in my own body. Or maybe it’s her body at this point because I’m 90% sure she’s had it for longer than I did. It’s hard to tell precisely how long I’ve been like this… and if we’re being honest that’s been less than easy to deal with.

You learn to just kind of go with it after a while, I think. Like, do I feel bad for eating a family of four when I was new? You bet. Not my favorite memories. [shiver sound at the recollection, sounds of memories of people panicking and running]. Eventually you learn that zombie-me is just going to do what… zombie-me does. After you accept that, the horror of what you are gets pretty… normal? Which makes sense, right? That your brain either normalizes these things or you go crazy. Could be it does a little bit of both. All I know for sure is that if I’ve got to be stuck in the head of a zombie then I’m going to do everything I can to get comfortable. Which isn’t much, but I HAVE figured some things out.

One of those things is that I’ve gotten pretty decent at ‘steering’ her over the years, as weird as that sounds. Like sometimes I can stop her from doing something truly stupid. I’m able to get her to stand in the rain so we can shower while other times I’ve been able to get her to put on earphones so that we can listen to music together… which I think only works because she forgets where the music is actually coming from. My wants are pretty simple these days and my triumphs fairly small, so even just getting her to listen to me for a moment feels like a monumental achievement. Most of the time it plays out more like me mentally screaming my wants and needs into a bottomless void while she tries to catch… and subsequently eat a butterfly. Which kind of sounds to me like my pre-zombie romantic life, honestly.

Oh! Hey, we’re moving again. Great. That’s great. Done with second breakfast. On to elevenzies, I’m sure. You… might just want to come back and check on us later. I have a feeling you have somewhere else to be.”

[Let music play out slowly to the sounds of nature again]

SCENE FADE

FADE IN

[Scene opens to Cali in her ‘Land Spinner’, a low profile, jet boosted hovercraft that travels at incredibly high speeds over land.]

CALI

“Punch it.

[Sounds of the Land Spinner kicking into travel speed]

Scout Entry 7/7/2182 - Cali checking in. Clearing the Toronto ruins, before heading back towards the Detroit badlands. Everything’s 5x5. Nothing really worth reporting about up here. Found a community at the Eaton Centre that was mostly just people trying to get by, living in-between kill zones. That would make them the only other sizable outpost worth talking about up here apart from the McMaster settlement back in Hamilton. That place was the tits, honestly. At least as far as the other places I’ve been through over the last couple years go. Got to refuel the Land Spinner there, own the local kids at this neat little arcade they have and I FINALLY managed to get that screwy hover coil fixed up. To be fair, they’re doin’ alright up here overall but it’s still nothing like the set up we have at Golden Gate. I am, however, happy to report that the rumors are true: the Canadian remnants DO indeed make some good beer. Still not sure it’s better than ours, but it did help with the lingering and might I say unwelcome pangs of homesickness a bit.

So yeah, let’s just chalk Toronto up as a big ol’ write-off overall. The machines still have it locked down tight, all the old zoning seems to be largely intact so it was easy enough to navigate. The locals tell me that the robots are up to mostly the same old robot things they always are. Manufacturing new bots, annihilating both scavengers and wildlife indiscriminately while just… generally making life shitty for everyone who’s not a tin can.

Still no zombies though, which is an ongoing plus. That makes it… like over a year now since we’ve seen any form of the virus, mutated or otherwise. On the negative side, it’s been three months since I’ve had even the slightest contact with any of our scouts. Last blip and upload on the reader was in Maine and even that wasn’t verbal confirmation. [sighs reluctantly] Which I suppose technically means… that it’s time to come home.

That’s fucked up, right? On one hand I’m complaining about being homesick yet here I am on the other, bitchin’ to myself about actually ‘going’ back. I guess I… I was just so sure that there would be more out here then this. Golden Gate is great and we have it better than basically anywhere else I’ve been… but still… I joined up with Scouting Ops because I HAD to believe there was something MORE out here. Bigger settlements. People who had their shit together, I don’t know. There’s just nothing! I don’t even get to come back home with some old world artifact or something cool like the other units did after their long hauls when I was a kid. Maybe I’m doing something wrong? Or maybe this is just… it. No more adventures or surprises. No new zombie strains or strange mutants. Golden Gate goes on to become the hub of North American reclamation, all zombies dead and a general, overall understanding that the ‘bots aren’t budging from their zones anytime soon due to a lack of both ambition and creativity.

No more wonder. No more mystery. No new horizons.

I… need to remember to delete this part before uploading it to the sat log. Can’t let the boys back home see my throat. No weakness. Cigar smoking, Bubblegum chewing ‘Tank Girl wanna-be’ Cali doesn’t get to have a sentimental side. That’s how they get you to settle down. Wife you up and file you in with all the other wholesome prefab families destined to resettle America. Can’t think of anything I want to do less with my life, honestly. Best to do what I did: Stay feral. If they push it, pop their best ‘suitor’ in the nose with a quick rabbit punch and smoke more cigars for good measure. The sweater vest wearing breeders will label you as absolutely unfuckable when they find out you’re an actual real person and not a willing volunteer for ‘Tomorrow’s Great Hope’. Gah. I’ll pass on that shit, please.

I’d also like to state for the record that I’m not a ‘Tank Girl Wanna-be’. I just think old pre-apocalypse comics that get everything wrong about the actual apocalypse are fun as fuck. Also; try to tell me this old aviator cap isn’t a god-damned look. Wouldn’t exactly be opposed to installing a big-assed cannon on the Spinner though… paying absolutely no attention to the very real promise that mounting a machinegun would easily tip this heap over-budget in regards to it’s terribly fickle weight allowance - but hey, a girl can dream, right?

[sighs]

Cali, signing off.”