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The Walking Dead Escape: When Bleeding Ain't Cool For Four Reporters

When Bleeding Ain't Cool

By Aaron B. Hale

While attending the 2014 San Diego Comic Con, myself and three fellow Bleeding Cool contributors were given the opportunity to participate as a team in Skybound's The Walking Dead Escape. As a fan of both the comic book, television show, and post apocalyptic fiction I was ecstatic. This was an opportunity to compete with my brothers-in-arms Joshua Stone, Joe Schmidt, and last but not least Kareem Baba Aminu. The obstacle course is designed in a way to fully immerse fans into the horror filled world of The Walking Dead. As a participant you have three options to choose from spectator, survivor, or walker. The four of us ran as survivors.

The Walking Dead Escape throws you into the outbreak of an unexplained pandemic, people are not sure what is going on and how to deal with this crisis. As physicians and the military try to guide you to safety, chaos ensues. As survivors our goal was to get to the Center for Disease Control outpost in the heart of Petco Park, the baseball stadium for the San Diego Padres. It is similar to a game of tag, except being touched means infection. The four of us thought we were pretty hot stuff at the outset, but we soon found that we each had differing skill levels. If you decide to do the course at the optimal level it does require quite a bit of running and weaving in and out of walker herds. Its actually pretty interesting as at one point I saw a participant jump over a car to avoid infection. You think you know what to expect, but the whole experience is very realistic and unnerving. You forget it isn't real and you start to do anything to survive.

We had planned to stick together as a group, but once you get inside the moaning and scenery is so disturbing you stop thinking about your teammates and just start to run. Our team fared well, two out of four of us made it through the full course without being infected. However it was quite the task and my body felt pretty worse for wear. Its important to wear good shoes and to stay hydrated. In hindsight, I would have drank more Gatorade (The official sponsor of Bleeding Cool at SDCC 2014) At the end of the course the Walking Dead Escape rewards participants with variant copies of The Walking Dead #1 and plenty of water and activities to help you wind down from the course. It's a pretty intense experience and it takes a bit of time for participants to gather themselves afterwards. My fellow contributors and teammates have written a wee bit of fan fiction and a small taste of reality, to give you a better idea of the realism that is The Walking Dead Escape. Turn out the lights, grab a snack and enjoy the horror that awaits.

Tales from the Crypt

By Joseph Schmidt

Petco Park was supposed to be safe. I followed the guys through the gates, they were eager and they were tired, but most of all, they thought we were going to be alright. Some might say I'm pessimistic, that I'm jaded—you'd be wrong. See, I'm a survivor. I listen to my gut. And my gut was screaming at me, "this is an awful idea." The CDC told us they had everything under control. And then they fucking lost it.

I don't know who got bit but I heard someone behind me. Their screams muffled out the commands of the megaphone. All hell broke loose and before I knew it I was sprinting down a blood-stained corridor, still bodies lining the walls. They led us into a slaughter house.

We promised we'd stay together. But I just couldn't… I couldn't wait for them and watch them fall. I had to survive. I made a promise to my son, that I'd survive. We pressed forward in those first moments of chaos. People have fallen before, I've seen them. But not like this. We were set up to fail, ushered head-first into unseen depths.

We struggled to move forward, and I could hear Aaron attempt to keep us calm. "Stay together," he cautioned us. But my nerves wouldn't let me. I was faster, more agile. I waited for Kareem to get a step ahead, catching the attention of a few stinkers crowing the hallway. They collapsed on him, and deep down, I wanted to grab him, pull him back to regroup, attempt to get through, together.

There was a group of stinkers just ahead, no time to hesitate. Someone warned us it's the blood, that it's the blood that gets you sick. They swiped and clawed, but I got through unscathed. Right? I felt something. Didn't I? There's no way. I can't see any blood, none of it mine, anyways. I'm fine. I have to be fine.

I heard Aaron call after me. Before we got here, after it all went to hell, he told me that his wife already made it through, that she was waiting for us on the other side. We all had someone waiting for us. But Aaron, he wanted us to make it through together. Despite the life he had waiting for him, he wouldn't let anyone fall. He wanted to live. They all wanted to, and they might even deserve it more than I do, but they just didn't have what it takes. When the guards fell before us, their so-called protocol went by the wayside faster than the dead turned. We knew we couldn't depend on the Army to protect us. We had to fend for ourselves. If only they realized it quicker, maybe they'd still be with me.

One of them screamed. I'm not sure if it was Kareem or Josh, but I swear I heard one of them. I couldn't look back. I didn't want to know who it was. There was some tiny part of me, a shattered sliver buried deep within, writhing around, infected. It grew and grew, from the pit of my stomach to the depths of my soul. I couldn't look at them because I knew I left them to die. Regardless, I pressed forward, leaving him and the rest of the group behind. I left them to die. They called after me, but I couldn't look back. I wouldn't look back.

I finally reached the baseball diamond. The unkempt field was still a pristine green, untouched from the chaos of the outside world. I'd seen so many games at this park, so many memories embedded, nostalgia caused my eyes to well up. As the sole survivor, I knew this moment of serenity was masking a truth much more sinister. I shoved those feelings aside. It was a beautiful sight at first glance; any longer looks, the pain begins to offset whatever pleasant memories one might have made.

As I made my way out of the stadium, I finally found another person. An actual living, breathing person. At first the sight was welcome, like I had made it. I wasn't alone anymore.

He threw me to the ground with the barrel of his assault weapon mere millimeters from my face. He screamed, "How long have you been infected? When were you bit?"

I told him I was clean, that I hadn't been bit, that one of them might have gotten a hand on me but that was it. No scratches, no bites. He told me, "that scrape on your shoulder begs to differ."

I'm sorry, Nathan. I tried to be a good man, and I failed. I tried, sacrificed what was left of that to survive, to make it to you, and even then it wasn't enough. This world will break you. You must let it. Only then will you become what's needed. Don't worry about me. They won't let me turn. I won't let them. But you, you do what you must. And never, never look back.

A Survivors Tale

By Abdulkareem Baba Aminu

When I ran into Aaron and Joe at the entrance of Petco, I became hopeful that I'd see at least the next day. After some military bloke barked orders I could only half-understand, we were let in. We trudged on, along with several others through the massive complex which was eerily quiet in spite of our number. As soon as we came across a couple of uniformed women, gunshots started to go off from behind and an alarm blared. "Move, move, move!" they barked at us as I turned behind to see a wave of walkers so dense that it was blocking out what little sunlight we had.

We ran. Aaron and Joe were way ahead of me, as I was still exhausted from the incident at the Hyatt, or what's left of it anyway, where Aaron's dog Mr. Pickles got injured and a Walker tore through its flesh as we watched helplessly.

Walkers, many of them in hospital workers' clothing, shambled around and reached for us while making that goddamned noise they make. It sounded like choking and gargling all at once and it terrified me even more than their rotting bodies.

Lounges, canteens, food courts, ticket booths and many other places later, we reached a CDC makeshift camp where there were quite a number of armed soldiers and a couple of doctors. There also were many wounded people, some on the floor, some hovering over dead or dying friends or family. A sick-looking lady lunged at me, asking me to save her baby who was obviously dead on the floor and being orbited by what seemed like a thousand flies.

Just as I was catching my breath, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and I turned around, terrified, then relieved to see it was Aaron. I looked around and back at him and he shook his head gently. "We've lost Joe," he said. We simply looked at each other. We stood at the CDC camp for what seemed like an eternity and at a point I even dozed off a bit.

Our peace was short-lived, as Walkers breached the weak barriers that were supposed to protect us. In the chaos that ensued, I fell to the ground, hard. I scrambled up and was face-to-face with a big, bulky Walker and while trying to back up, I tripped on a sick girl on the floor. I gave up at that point but some random fellow pulled me up and pushed me ahead. "Don't give up, man!" And I took to his advice and to my heels as well.

Through countless staircases and corridors we ran, all the time being chased by the undead or facing them in an effort to get past them by sheer luck or dumb courage. We got to a mezzanine somewhere and a burly, bearded guy was squatting and grinning at us. In the background, you could hear Walkers closing in. But as we ran past the fellow, the only thing that I could think of was the stick he was sharpening with a Swiss Army Knife and how calm he was.

As we ran through the maze called Petco, from all around, you could hear the screams, growing, collectively becoming a kind of gargantuan, macabre moan. Aaron and I, with a handful of others reached a barricaded part of the stadium. Armored medical personnel descended on us, checking our bodies for possible signs of contact or infection.

We made it through clean and were led to an area which looked secure. But the sound of the undead grew yet louder and more unbearable. And then there was the smell. You'd think one would be used to it by now, but I realised that wasn't possible. It was, after all, the smell of death. Death which waited for us all outside, even as the doors at the end of the corridor burst open, allowing a horde of Walkers upon us. I picked up a sharp piece of metal from the floor and braced myself.

WTF?!?!

By Joshua Stone

I think that Joe and Kareem may have lost their minds. I'm not sure what did it. It may have the overwhelming size of SDCC, or the increased humidity of San Diego that happens every year when over 200,000 fellow nerds come into town and the sweat they give causes the town to be unbearable. Or maybe it was seeing a Suicide Girl at the Sin City 2 party stripping in the bunny suit from Donnie Darko, but no, I don't remember seeing them there. Or maybe it was seeing little kids looking like zombies trying to get them. You see, The Walking Dead Escape (WDE) isn't real. I thought they knew that, but as I am writing my piece on the experience after reading what they wrote, it's clear they don't. I mean Kareem doesn't even mention me in his section, and he definitely knows I was there because he pushed me over at one point as he was afraid a walker was going to get him.

Now just because WDE isn't real doesn't mean it isn't intense and scary. The setup of the place was awesome. The makeup for the walkers is mind blowing, and it should be. It is done by KNB Efx, Greg Nicotero'scompany, you know, the guy who has directed seven episodes of The Walking Dead tv show, won four Emmys for makeup, and has worked on a number of Quentin Tarantino's movies. The walkers all seemed well trained, and they were often set up where in order to get by you essentially had to wait for someone else to jump first and hope the walker went after them instead.

The most important thing that everyone should know about WDE is that it clearly was created by someone who is a sadist. Who the heck else would think of creating an event like this that primarily attaches itself to comic book conventions, main population – out of shape nerds. Running up stairs, having to dash around obstacles that you know damn well has a walker behind it waiting to just touch you, crap, it took me at least 5 minutes to catch my breath. Also, don't make any plans for immediately after WDE, you're going to need time to take a shower and change your clothes, for everyone's sake.

When it was over we never did see Joe again, I don't know if he quit or just finished before me. Or maybe he did lose his mind, and that 8 year old girl dressed like a walker sent him over the edge, and somewhere in the bowels of Petco Park reciting Kurtz's lines from Apocalypse Now, rambling on about the horrors that he has seen, Joe sits and waits.

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