Recently, the Tower District fell into turmoil as a zombie horde numbering in the hundreds ravaged the landscape. For three years running, the living dead have amassed to wreak havoc on various tower bars and restaurants in what survivors refer to as the Zombie Pub Crawl.
The Fresno Zombie Society periodically holds public and private gatherings throughout the city. The annual zombie crawl is one of the organization’s premier events.
“I had seen YouTube videos of zombie crawls in different states and countries. Myself being a huge zombie and horror movie fan thought, why didn’t we have something like this in Fresno?” said society founder and chief horde instigator, Patrick Quiring. “I posted the questions to a couple friends and they told me I should start one. A couple months later we were holding our first annual zombie crawl.”
At first glance, this year’s bystanders may have interpreted the scene as a gathering of foot dragging locals on a prolonged bender. Upon further examination however, horrified witnesses powerlessly looked on as walkers brought about the Tower apocalypse.
Zombies who managed to curb their instincts long enough to speak coherently expressed appreciation for the community event.
“This is our second year,” said animated corpse, Jocelyn Allcock. “It’s a time to let loose; to enjoy our youth while we’re still young.”
Although zombie behavioral dynamics still remain unclear, what is known is that the walking dead typically travel in fragmented groups as opposed to swarms.
Succumbing to his infection, Fresno City College student, Daniel Clark followed the devouring masses into the heart of the Tower District.
“I came here to take a look at everything and take part in it,” said Clark. “It’s really cool that something like this is happening here in Fresno.”
When asked about the zombie horde’s political leanings regarding Proposition 30, Clark responded, “The zombie horde does not have an opinion on it mostly because they lack the intelligence to make a clear and concise decision.”
Breaking with established precedent, some zombies recalled the nature of their living demise.
Pointing in accusation toward an undead nurse, Becky Swisher’s corpse said, “She came and killed me on my wedding day.”
Rising well above the call of duty, heroic civilians were on hand to preserve some semblance of humanity. Hunk, a fictional survivor of Resident Evil’s Raccoon City incident stood guard in front of the Tower Theater.
The former Umbrella security official compared the severity of the attack to his predicament back in 1998. “Everyone is more or less dead. I’ve only seen one other agent out here,” said Hunk.
The odds of survival were insurmountable. Still, he remained vigilant at his post.
Despite having frequented various pubs well into the night, the horde’s campaign to consume humanity appeared unquenchable and unwavering.
“The tower businesses have been great,” said Quiring. “The event is here to stay. As long as people enjoy our events, they will continue.”
Zombies throughout the Tower District seemed pleased with their devastation and looked forward to future carnage.
“This is my first time out here. I’m loving it, I’ll be out here next year,” said wondering corpse, Ken Christiansen. “Brains.”
