minutes, the creature traveled from New York State in the United States to the northernmost tip of Quebec in Canada. Should the creature continue to increase in mass as it nears the North Pole, the effect will be cataclysmic. A series of nuclear strikes may eliminate most of the population of North America, but there will still be hope for the rest of the world.”
COMMENTS:
Snarky––
Effing towel heads have been waiting for an excuse to bomb us. screw them
WakeUpCall––
The ape is not the zombie here, people. WE ARE THE ZOMBIES. Wake up before it’s too late.
USAUSA––
Terrorist sand monkeys are behind this. Fire off the warheads on their asses NOW
hockeyfan––
thanks alot USA because of your arrogance and stupidity we have to pay the price. See you all in HELL
Uncle Sam––
screw you stupid canadians and your hockey pucks and stocking caps and canadian bacon you guys are morons ey the mckenzee brothers are gay fags and you all are too
Kristi––
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Margine C––
This is why I don’t care for the internet news. So much negative stuff going on that I don’t care to know about.
TutoneFan––
did anyone see that movie with the gorilla that climbed the sears tower i think it was, what was that called again because thats what this reminds me of
Amazing!––
My friend Sally is such a lucky woman! She’s earning six figures a year working from home. You can too! For information, visit www.nitwitclicks.com and we’ll send you free information!
Richie––
Donkey Kawng is still a fun game my high score cannot be beat. the games out there now cant compare to the vintage stuff
MurryCasala––
can you imagine the size of this giant ape’s unit? lol
Spinner––
This doesn’t involve me directly so I don’t give a––
AMANDA C. DAVIS
Escape from Ape City
At some point, our first question––the keening, desperate “Where did the giant zombie gorillas come from?”––became moot. It was merely academic. The origin of the giant zombie gorillas was as useful to us as the number of angels who could dance on the head of a pin. Less useful, in fact––pinprick-sized angels might be somehow brought under our control. Building-sized undead gorillas left us no option but to run.
“They’re like any silly fashion,” said Bradbury to me, one day in the bunker. “One turns up and before long, they’re on every street corner.”
“Fashion!” spat Lillian. “Who cares about fashion?” Before the giant zombie gorillas, she had cared very much. “Only a month and they’ve turned us back into cavemen.”
“Minus the advantages vis-à-vis cavewomen.” Bradbury really was a card.
Lillian, giving him a vicious look, went back to sharpening a curtain rod into a double-ended spear.
Jenny squeezed inside then, through the trapdoor that used to be a basement window. She fell neatly to the ground and landed on her feet like a cat. “Listen to this, you Morlocks,” she said. (She’s a card, too, a good match for Bradbury, I always thought.) “Get your things. Get everything. There’s a boat. We’re getting out.”
We ignored everything but that penultimate sentence, and the shock of it drove us to our feet. “A boat!” said Lillian, for once losing her scowl.
“A warship?” said Bradbury.
“All I know is it floats.”
Lillian said, “It can’t be. Who’s still got a boat?”
“Astor. Rockefeller. Who cares?” said Jenny. “The Laurel Street bunker says there’s a yacht or something not far out to sea and it’s coming toward us at a quick old clip. They think it’ll be here by dark. It must be a rescue. It must be.”
I