I watched a man kill himself today.
I want you to take a moment and let that really sink in. Keith Morris was a twenty-year-old kid who was going to school to be a professional welder. He split time working for his dad’s dock building business and ACE Hardware. He had a girlfriend and a little dog named Spooner. He liked to ride his motorcycle and the music of Gary Allen. Apparently, he also had a bit of a hetero man crush on Mark Wahlberg. (Hey, who doesn’t?) He was a good friend of Brad Chambers and was supposed to be in the wedding party for Brad and Kasondra’s wedding. He helped Brad take control of the situation at ACE when Zero Hour struck. And, quite unapologetically, Keith had the intestinal fortitude to put down quite a few zoms that breached their defenses. If it wasn’t for him, the five other members of his party would not be with us.
Brad parked as close to our produce dock as possible and Keith was freaking hustling to slide all of their acquired supplies inside: ammo, weapons, tools, things we would need for our survival. The zombie that tagged him was hidden underneath our scissor lift dock. There was no way our spotters could have seen it. It got him on the calf, breaking skin with its fingernails and taking a bite from his leg. But he had the wherewithal to shoot that beast in the head three times and then limped inside.
After that, my whole quarantine plan kind of went out the window. Before they made it over, everyone was healthy. They all breathed the same air, drank the same water, and ate the same food. Then, Keith got bit and one hour later started showing symptoms. The five other survivors agreed to a total 100% strip search and examination for wounds by same sex examiners. Everyone came back clean.
So apparently, the movies have it right. This virus is transferred via bodily fluids. You get bit, you have it. There is no cure. You are dead. It is only a matter of time.
After one hour, you could see the clotting of his wound begin to turn necrotic and the veins nearby turning purple and sickly.
Keith starting showing more signs quickly. Pain, nausea, stiffness. I could only watch as his temperature rose to 103-degrees in what seemed like a blink of an eye. He tried to remain calm but he had this aggressive streak. He would snap angrily at simple questions. He just wasn’t himself anymore. He grew increasingly irritable even when people were trying to help him.
Everyone began to whisper, wondering what we should do.
So, without any aggrandizing here, he asked and Brad provided. He asks his friend for a pistol and he took the decision out of our hands. For those that may look down upon this, Keith made it quite clear. In his eyes, this was not suicide. He was dead the second that zom bit him. And his argument was that we might not have “the stones” (as he put it) to put him down after he changed. So he said he was doing all of us a favor.
We fully intend to give him a proper burial in the field we have out back behind the store. Until we get a clear enough section, we have put his body in the ice cream freezer. But I don’t want to talk any more. I just want to sleep and try to forget about this nightmare world. I think I am going to hit the pharmacy and see if I can find a Xanax or a sleeping pill or something.
This sucks. And as much as I hate it, I know this will not be the last time we will have to deal with this…
LOST MEMBER: Keith Morris* – 20, Disney, OK
I want you to take a moment and let that really sink in. Keith Morris was a twenty-year-old kid who was going to school to be a professional welder. He split time working for his dad’s dock building business and ACE Hardware. He had a girlfriend and a little dog named Spooner. He liked to ride his motorcycle and the music of Gary Allen. Apparently, he also had a bit of a hetero man crush on Mark Wahlberg. (Hey, who doesn’t?) He was a good friend of Brad Chambers and was supposed to be in the wedding party for Brad and Kasondra’s wedding. He helped Brad take control of the situation at ACE when Zero Hour struck. And, quite unapologetically, Keith had the intestinal fortitude to put down quite a few zoms that breached their defenses. If it wasn’t for him, the five other members of his party would not be with us.Brad parked as close to our produce dock as possible and Keith was freaking hustling to slide all of their acquired supplies inside: ammo, weapons, tools, things we would need for our survival. The zombie that tagged him was hidden underneath our scissor lift dock. There was no way our spotters could have seen it. It got him on the calf, breaking skin with its fingernails and taking a bite from his leg. But he had the wherewithal to shoot that beast in the head three times and then limped inside.
After that, my whole quarantine plan kind of went out the window. Before they made it over, everyone was healthy. They all breathed the same air, drank the same water, and ate the same food. Then, Keith got bit and one hour later started showing symptoms. The five other survivors agreed to a total 100% strip search and examination for wounds by same sex examiners. Everyone came back clean.
So apparently, the movies have it right. This virus is transferred via bodily fluids. You get bit, you have it. There is no cure. You are dead. It is only a matter of time.
After one hour, you could see the clotting of his wound begin to turn necrotic and the veins nearby turning purple and sickly.
Keith starting showing more signs quickly. Pain, nausea, stiffness. I could only watch as his temperature rose to 103-degrees in what seemed like a blink of an eye. He tried to remain calm but he had this aggressive streak. He would snap angrily at simple questions. He just wasn’t himself anymore. He grew increasingly irritable even when people were trying to help him.
Everyone began to whisper, wondering what we should do.
So, without any aggrandizing here, he asked and Brad provided. He asks his friend for a pistol and he took the decision out of our hands. For those that may look down upon this, Keith made it quite clear. In his eyes, this was not suicide. He was dead the second that zom bit him. And his argument was that we might not have “the stones” (as he put it) to put him down after he changed. So he said he was doing all of us a favor.
We fully intend to give him a proper burial in the field we have out back behind the store. Until we get a clear enough section, we have put his body in the ice cream freezer. But I don’t want to talk any more. I just want to sleep and try to forget about this nightmare world. I think I am going to hit the pharmacy and see if I can find a Xanax or a sleeping pill or something.
This sucks. And as much as I hate it, I know this will not be the last time we will have to deal with this…
LOST MEMBER: Keith Morris* – 20, Disney, OK
