Zombieleaks has strived to track down the individuals who Romero attempted to contact. Alex Wright was one of six. The other five were asked by associates of Romero to provide written submissions of their actions when the Blood Turned and in the aftermath. Following the suppression of Alex’s investigation into the Preservation and the rapid onset of Post-Zombosis Stress Disorder (PZSD), the remaining five recounted events that not only call the supposed truths of the Commandments into question, but much of the actions of the Preservation.
Zombieleaks obtained transcripts of these confessions and have included them in full as part of this data dump.
Since Alex’s death we have shown the utmost care throughout our data gathering process. However, we cannot verify the status of the other five subjects, therefore all personal details have been redacted to protect their identities.
For data organisation purposes, we have classified their cases as:
Hello, my name is Rowan Watson, and I am Member No. 7676 of the Antidote to Neurological Zombosis, London Branch. I’m immensely proud to have been asked to explain to you about who we are and what is happening. You better be ready.
The Commandments were a nice idea. Maybe in your head you are unsure about one or two of them, maybe you’ve seen a few things that made you raise an eyebrow and maybe you just shrugged it off and got on with your day. But they are all bullshit. Not one or two of them, all of them. They are exaggerations, rules that aren’t rules at all. They cannot be universally applied.
Yet they have been, and one has been more prominent and destructive than the others combined.
Commandment No. 1: The three-minute rule. The belief that every person who is bitten by a sufferer of NZ turns within three minutes is so wrong I don’t know where to start.
Not everyone turns immediately. Making us think that they do is clever, really, because it removes doubt from the equation. The Preservation doesn’t believe we can deal with grey areas. They felt we needed to digitise events. If you have been bitten, you are a Zombie. If you haven’t, you aren’t. They wanted us to be Zeroes and Ones.
If we bring in doubt, then we are inhibited and unable to act definitively in putting down the Zombies. That leaves situations to chance. The Preservation couldn’t leave anything to chance. We need rules, everyone; sod thinking for ourselves.
If they had implemented the three-minute rule then admitted it was wrong after conducting more research, I might have understood. But to continue posting the Commandments under our noses while knowing they are clearly compromised is to show a degree of contempt for us that I can’t disregard. And yes, they are well aware of the lie they are telling. One day, the truth will come to light and every single member of the Preservation will be made to answer for their crimes.
The thing is, of all the victims who were bitten after the Blood Turned, we’ll never know how many of those could have survived longer. We were too busy killing them, because that’s exactly what we were told to do. You’ve spoken to the Amputee guy, right? He agreed to do this? Good. He’s alive because we broke the rules.
But if you want more proof, I can understand that. The evidence must be cast-iron or any attempt to offer an alternative view will fall flat. The public are so in thrall to the Preservation that exposing them without a proper plan is useless.
My father was bitten fifteen months ago. At this moment, he’s sitting at home with my mother, very much alive. I know, right?
It was an isolated incident; a mini outbreak contained very quickly in central London by some Preservers, but not before a few victims could be claimed.
My father, along with a few others, were privately beginning to question the messages coming from the Preservation. The kill-shot policy that the three-minute rule helped to develop wasn’t exactly difficult to sell and the scare tactics were enough; but what if… rather than what was became an important bargaining chip.
The media have been as compliant as ever, regularly feeding us footage to ensure that we never forget who has done this to us, and how we must remain vigilant and remember the greater good if we are to avoid it happening again. The implication is that keeping a zombified member of the family around is the equivalent of constructing a chemical weapon and pointing it at the Houses of Parliament.
And you’ll no doubt say, ‘But why would anyone keep Zombies around anyway?’, and you’ll be assuming that we are Zeroes and Ones – humans, and Zombies. The Antidote to Neurological Zombosis knows differently, and rather than engage directly with the Preservation, we’ve fought to find our own way.
The night my father was bitten he had made his way out of a tube station – I’m not going to mention which one – taking his usual route to our home nearby. He had been attending a private ANZ assembly in central London; these meetings are generally camouflaged as being linked to a charity or a generic community initiative, something mundane enough to elude suspicion. His train home was virtually deserted save for a few fellow passengers staying on for the remaining stops. As he stepped off the platform and made for the station exit, two Zombies ambushed him, with one taking a large chunk of flesh from the top of his forearm, biting clean through his jacket and jumper, ripping both in two. Preservers had already been dispatched and were in the area; had he taken five seconds longer to exit the station, they may have gotten there first.
Preservers took out the biter from long range and closed in to deal with its companion. My father instinctively returned to the station and jumped on the track. He knew that the Preservers were proficient at ensuring all evidence of an attack was efficiently mopped up. It was approaching midnight and he knew he represented the only remaining link to the event. Whether they knew he was bitten or not, they’d be after him now.