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The Walking Dead Escape – Survivor's Guilt

Published Mon, 01 Sep 2014 14:30:45 -0500

Will Romine writes,

Hello Friends.

A lot of the post San Diego Comic Con glow has worn off. During those five heavenly days, I participated in The Walking Dead Escape. I couldn't tell my story then, but I'm ready now.

The keenest eyes among you will remember that I ran in the inaugural Walking Dead Escape back in 2012 and wrote this article.

In 2012, I pushed, I shoved, and I used my less agile geeky brethren as human shields so that I might live to see another day. Do I wish I could have acted more civilly? Perhaps. But do I regret my actions? That's a harder question. You see, regret is a dimension through which we analyze our behavior only when survival is a given. In the middle of a zombie apocalypse, there is no pride, no shame, only life. I choose life.

Everyone who's alive right now. Everyone's who's made it this far. We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back. We're not too far gone. We get to come back.

-Rick Grimes

Well pals, this year, thanks to the fine folks at the Walking Dead Escape and Skybound, I got to come back. As I put my press lanyard around my neck, I though back to 2012, to the choices I made. I did the worst kinds of things to survive. I'm pretty sure that if I had filmed any of my adventure and posted it online, "Otis-ing" would have gone viral and become a thing. Now that I was a couple of years older and wiser, the question remained, was I too far gone?

As my participant wave cleared the gates and we were thrust into the walker wasteland that was Petco Park, I decided that I was going to live, but live honorably. I didn't push, I didn't shove, and I most certainly didn't "Otis". However, it soon became obvious that this year's course layout wasn't meant to be survived. The concentration of walkers was greater than anything I experienced in 2012. In the end, everyone was contaminated and we were all summarily mock-mass executed to prevent further contagion.

In the end, my actions, honorable or otherwise, didn't matter. We were all dead. Is this a metaphor for life? Does our existence amount to anything, or are we all just going through the motions? Does pontificating on this question paralyze us, rendering us unable to step forward in life and contribute our verse to the human choir, or must we come to an answer before our lives have meaning? I don't know. God help me, I just don't know.

On the plus side, I got a free Walking Dead #1 variant cover for completing the course. SCORE!

So, if I haven't completely bummed you out with this article, follow me @notacomplainer

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