Zombieland

Three days to reach Seattle before the Emerald City shuts its’ borders with the outside world. We have three days to cross what used to be The United States of America without being detected by The Riders of The Golden Dawn.

“The Riders” are an assortment of wanna-be cops and militia members outfitted with AR-15 assault rifles and nuclear strength bad breath. They prowl the countryside in marauding bands constantly demanding “taxes” and “tribute” from anyone passing through their territory.

We used to call it: ‘fly-over country’, but now most of us just refer to it as Zombieland.

It is that vast stretch between the two main coasts of the former United States of America. It is painful to even acknowledge this fact out-loud. We can no longer deny or ignore the fracture. The fissure is deep and profound and deeply-rooted in bogus notions of white supremacy which politicians in the South, especially, have relied on in order to maintain their minority rule.

It has only been by convincing poor, dumb, white folks that they are smarter than the smartest black folks that corrupt politicians in the South have been able to maintain their crooked control throughout the Jim Crow era up to present day.

Racism has always been America’s Achilles’ Heel. It is a self-inflicted wound that hobbled us from the very beginning of our country. It is time for white supremacy to be rooted-out and exposed. Only sunlight will kill it. Racism has always been a slow-growing fungus on our body politic. That is my personal opinion.

That said I am a man on a mission. I have to deliver a Bitcoin key etched into an ordinary heart-shaped locket like any cheap trinket that you might buy off of Wish.com or Walmart. This key however unlocks the equivalent of 250 billion euros worth of Bitcoin. That is the equivalent of the GDP of Portugal. I have to deliver it to the current president of the Coastal Alliance. Most people simply refer to it as the Alliance.

The Bitcoin key is micro-laser etched into the lip of the locket. I have concocted a lengthy fake story about the locket having belonged to my deceased daughter whose dying wish was that I deliver it to her mother. This is just in case I am intercepted by one The Riders.

I must deliver the locket to the president of the Alliance. I will swallow the locket if I need to in order to protect it from falling into the hands of The Riders. I used to be a Navy SEAL before I became an operative for The Alliance. The fate of freedom and democracy in part depends on my ability to deliver the goods. So there is absolutely nothing that can stop me from delivering the locket to Madam President.

Currently I am in NYC and I have three days to reach Seattle. This is only possible if I drive 80 miles per hour with no sleep, no breaks and no failures. That may have been feasible prior to the pandemic but ever since the pandemic struck everything has been broken.

All of you are survivors of the pandemic know this all too well. The pandemic was the beginning of the great unraveling. The resulting economic collapse and the invasion of Florida by the Russians only accelerated the total collapse of The United States of America.

Everyone knows that it is no longer legal to fly, but I have a low altitude aircraft that I fabricated from electric drones and a para-glider. It is silent, but it requires occasional landings during inclement weather since it only flies at 2,000 to 3,000 ft.

I am going to fly from NYC to Cleveland and then from Cleveland to Chicago. After Chicago it’ll be a straight shot across to Seattle although there are rumors that the Riders have assumed control off of vast stretches of the Western lands.

I may need to readjust once I reach Chicago. The whole trip should only take two days which leaves me one day to spare. Thankfully I absolutely love to fly. I also have a lot of friends along the way. The Alliance has many, many friends along the way.

I am leaving tonite from the top of the Empire State Building and I’ll be flying across Pennsylvania. I should be able to pick-up fresh batteries in Cleveland and then again in Chicago. After that we’ll have to see. I may have to drive but I’d rather fly. It is just more fun.

I wish I could say that I’ve made it Cleveland without a hitch or a glitch, but I don’t think that would be believable. The launch from the top of The Empire State Building was epic. The flight over NYC at night was spectacular. I even took a little extra time to circle the city before I left.

I try to savor every moment of my life these days. The great unraveling of our society has taken its’ toll on us all, but in some ways it has made life sweeter and more intense than prior to the pandemic.

Somewhere over northwestern Pennsylvania I hit a fucking eagle. The damn bird crashed into my para-glider wing. It was one of the scariest god damn things I’ve ever experienced. What the hell an eagle was doing flying around in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. I almost hit the ground before my reserve chute deployed and saved the day.

Luckily though there was no major damage to my para-glider. I can’t say the same for Mr. Eagle. He hit the ground HARD when we finally “landed” on terra firm-a. I am sure there must be some kind of symbolism there, but I am way too lazy to try to figure it out.

I finally got back into the air, but I lost a couple of hours because of my friend Mr. Eagle. By the time I reached Cleveland I was definitely ready for a nap.

Once I landed in Cleveland I was met by Mr. G. As an operative for the Alliance I’ve required his services many many times. I love Mr. G. I call him Kenny G. sometimes, but I don’t think he likes it.

Mr. G is a master of disguises. Whenever I see him he gives me tips about how to disguise my appearance. Knowing how to rapidly change your appearance can be essential in the world of spy craft. I always look forward to my visits with Mr. G.

On this occasion however he showed me make-up tips for dressing in drag. I am pretty gung-ho and pretty open-minded but I do think Mr. G was having some fun at my expense. I still do love Mr. G though.

I departed Cleveland from the top of a giant pink cake which was a float in the local gay pride parade. I just gently drifted away with the aid of a giant rainbow colored helium balloon. Once I launched and got up to altitude I shot my balloon and deployed my para-glider wing in mid-air. Please don’t try that at home. It is extremely dangerous.

I really do not recommend trying to fly a para-glider in high heels and a sequined dress either. Fortunately I was able to change into camouflage fatigues along the way although once I landed at The House of Blues in Chicago I was still wearing my full drag Queen make-up. I couldn’t believe how cool everyone in Chicago was. No one said anything about all of my make-up. Those are some way cool catz.

I had a wonderful evening partying with everyone at The House of The Blues in Chicago. It was one of those nights you will remember forever. It was all the sweeter and more intense by the prospect of what lay ahead. The toughest and most difficult leg of my journey to The Emerald City.

Mr. T of all people was my contact at The House of The Blues. I thought he would have been dead by now, but apparently he is a major health food nut and will never ever die. I pity the fool who crosses Mr. T.

Mr. T’s plan was to drive to a lake house in Wisconsin and fly-out from the lake on a float plane. We would then head north over Canada. The plane is equipped with a beacon which will allow it to fly through Canadian airspace without getting shot down by the Canadian Air Force. This is a risky maneuver, but “The Riders” are in full control of all of the former United States between Chicago and Seattle.

The plan was for me to jump out of the plane over Vancouver B.C. I was to be wearing a wing-suit to glide from Vancouver to Seattle. The plan was that I should land atop the big black Columbia Tower in downtown Seattle.

Falling into Seattle at what felt like a thousand miles per hour was such an incredible rush. I had to jump-out of the plane at almost 30,000 feet over Vancouver in order to be able to glide into Seattle. The landing on top of The Columbia Tower was flawless. I felt like gymnast who sticks their landing. There was a small crowd gathered to meet me. The party that night was amazing. Seattle is like Shangri-La these days. It feels like the Center of The Universe.