I don’t want to alarm you, but I think Austin might truly be infected with some kind of virus. I refused to heed the warnings of the Austin Post and ventured toward downtown this weekend. Something is going on down there, you guys, and it’s scary.
I headed toward Zilker Park, thinking I’d enjoy a nice stroll, via the MoPac footbridge and … well, there were cars, just abandoned. Everywhere. People parked anywhere they could and joined a mass pilgrimage toward Zilker. Even bicycles were chained to trees, to posts, to each other. The people just walked; I don’t even think they knew where they were going. I heard quiet mutterings and could only pick up names, like Jack White and Neal Young.
Once I got to Zilker, it was worse. People milling around the park, trying to make some sort of barter. I think one guy asked me for my soul in exchange for something called a wristband, but I can’t be sure. I just walked on. I saw a young man suffering from some sort of disease, being carried away in a golf cart by two men. He didn’t seem to know the men and was barely aware that he was in a moving vehicle! I saw him vomiting out the side, as the cart moved; he was obviously infected with whatever’s going on down there.
My reporter nature got the best of me, and I went into the park. What I saw, oh my God, I can’t even … There were thousands, hundreds of thousands of people grouped together. I think they were forming gangs of sorts, to protect them from or to worship the names I heard earlier. There were gangs of young men, all wearing khaki shorts and neon tank tops. There were gangs of girls, all wearing feathered headbands and denim underwear. There were gangs of older people, stationed in chairs. I think they might have lost the use of their legs to whatever sickness is going around.
The infected were screaming and chanting, performing some sort of sick ritual in front of large metal platforms where only four or five people faced the thousands on the ground. There seems to be a beverage that the infected are sharing with each other, which makes the situation worse – yelling, falling down, fighting. Hardly anyone seems to be immune.
I called the Centers for Disease Control to report what I saw, and they hung up on me. I tried to talk to the police and they told me to keep moving. I think the government might be in on this one.
Don’t go down there. Go to the grocery store and stock up on canned goods. Who knows how long this will last? I got out alive, but I don’t know if the sickness will spread. I might be showing symptoms. This morning I awoke with the name Anthony Kiedis in my head and some sort of force is pulling me toward the river. Who is he? Why am I compelled to go to the park? I’m scared, you guys. I might not make it back. Tell my mother I love her.
