The Zombie Autopsies: Secret Notebooks from the Apocalypse
Steven C. Schlozman
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"Humanity has a new weapon against the living dead and that weapon is Steven Schlozman!"
--New York Times bestselling author Max Brooks
"I've written and made films about zombies for over forty years. In all that time, I've never been able to convince my audience that zombies actually exist. On page one of THE ZOMBIE AUTOPSIES, Steven Schlozman takes away any doubt. This fast-moving, entertaining work will have you chuckling...and worrying."
--George A. Romero, director of Night of the Living Dead
"Gruesome and gripping! Steven Schlozman reveals the science behind zombies from the inside out."
--Seth Grahame-Smith, New York Times bestselling author of Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
"With THE ZOMBIE AUTOPSIES, Steven Schlozman redefines 'weird science' for the 21st Century. Brilliant, bizarre and wonderfully disturbing."
--Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of Rot & Ruin and Patient Zero
"Dr. Steve's 'Zombie Autopsy' will charm and excite a new generation into loving science."
--Chuck Palahniuk, New York Times bestselling author of Fight Club
As the walking dead rise up throughout the world, a few brave doctors attempt to find a cure by applying forensic techniques to captured zombies.
On a remote island a crack medical team has been sent to explore a radical theory that could uncover a cure for the epidemic. Based on the team's research and the observations of renowned zombie expert Dr. Stanley Blum, THE ZOMBIE AUTOPSIES documents for the first time the unique biology of zombie organisms.
Detailed drawings of the internal organs of actual zombies provide an accurate anatomy of these horrifying creatures. Zombie brains, hearts, lungs, skin, and digestive system are shown, while Dr. Blum's notes reveal shocking insights into how they function--even as Blum and his colleagues themselves begin to succumb to the plague.
No one knows the ultimate fate of Dr. Blum or his researchers. But now that his notebook, THE ZOMBIE AUTOPSIES, has been made available to the UN, the World Health Organization, and the general public, his scientific discoveries may be the last hope for humans on earth.
I haven’t felt hungry in weeks, maybe never really felt hungry. Not hungry like this. I can smell the crabs. Smell the bugs. Laughing again, blood dripping from my nose, my mouth, everywhere. All over these pages. I read back, read I wrote. Remembered. Sheep. Blanca. both dead. I’m changing. Hungry. I can’t walk, can’t hold the pen. I am legible? sheep drawn in blood notes. where Laughing again. Why? Who is this for? who is So hungry so strong. To the infirmary. Thought I was walking. Saw my reflection in water.
Maybe a new toxin, some kind of poison secreted by the ANSD bug that we haven’t yet discovered? She has all these drawings of molecular structures that I don’t recognize, can’t even begin to place. Maybe she’s wondering what kind of toxin, what kinds of proteins a novel virus would produce, what it could secrete that we’d be so unable to stop. But then she’ll shift gears, right in the middle of the page, and suddenly she’s back to old stuff, back to manipulating the pH, back to trying tired anti-influenza medications with slight modifications.
Stage IV ANSD victims become the disease. We don’t hesitate to kill cockroaches. We step on them. For bacteria, we give antibiotics. We do not suffer a contagion to live. Maybe we’ve got this all wrong. We treat strep throat with antibiotics. But “treatment” isn’t the same as “eradication. ” If the host is the disease itself, then we have to eradicate the host. And we are all, all of us, infected. We’re all hosts. I can’t get my mind around this. These things, these cockroaches, have human hearts that beat.
I remain firm in my belief that it is unethical to dissect anything other than Stage IV subjects. At the same time, we want subjects who have turned most recently so we can apply whatever we find to ourselves, to everyone who hasn’t changed yet. To everyone who is still human. We need to study the hypothalamus, especially as it relates to the rest of the brain structures. This is a primitive region of the brain that, among other things, tells us whether we’ve eaten enough. Zombies never seem to have eaten enough.
I’m angry. I am looking at the frontal lobe and it is indistinguishable from decomposed matter; it actually smells dead. I can’t even grasp and maneuver it. The tissue that remains intact is anchored by the brain stem as it attaches to the spinal column, but whatever I grab with my hands, even with the forceps, almost immediately disintegrates. It’s like melting snow. It drips through the cracks in between my fingers. Pittman is sketching, Gutierrez is taking notes, and I need to focus. This is what a neuroanatomist would see.