I was going to say “thank sweet zombie Jebus it’s Friday!” but it turns out it’s Sunday (Monday by the time I finish writing this post!)…sorry for everyone expecting to see a post on Friday and Saturday – time just slipped away from me and Zombie Week 2012 slipped into the gap between procrastination and oblivion. I’ll try and make it up to you in this post though!
To make up for the missing posts there are a few things I want to talk about today – first of all preparation and supplies. The things you’ll want to grab now you’ve got over the initial shock, realised if you’re a fight or flight type of person, decided to go at it alone, and dispatched with the ex(human) partner. You’re acclimatised to the situation – to say the least – now you want to arm yourself, with weapons as well as the right tools to survive the coming days…
…blood dripping from your hands, you let the hammer slip from your fingers. It hits the floor with a dull thud and brings you out the stupor you fell into after bashing in your partner’s brains. You don’t want to shed any tears – from what you’ve seen the infected aren’t human. The soul dissipates once the disease takes hold. You haven’t killed a loved one; you’ve killed a shell full of contagion. Even so, you can’t bring yourself to pick up the brain-splattered hammer. Instead you go downstairs in search of a suitable, and fresh, weapon.
The kitchen seems like a sensible place to start – plenty of sharp, pointy implements there, but do you really want to get that close to the undead? Something with a bit more reach would probably be better. Your partner was never one for elaborate utensils. The longest knife they own is a flimsy breadknife and that won’t do at all. You decide to try the living and immediately spot the fireplace tools sat on the hearth. You opt for the brass poker and give it a test swing, it seems heavy enough and it certainly has a good reach. Plus that point on the end will cause some wicked damage.
Tooled up you head back to the kitchen and grab some food. This might be the only chance you get to eat for a while. You want to sleep but the chaos outside is getting louder, it won’t be safe here much longer. Appetite satisfied you take a large swig of water straight from the tap. If you’re going to head out then you’d better grab a few supplies, you have no idea what you’ll run into out there – so you’d better be prepared for anything…
But what do you take? Do you just grab the essentials – food, water, and weapon? Or would you want to take more? What about a sensible pair of boots? Sleeping bag? Family photos? Phone charger? Favourite book? Are there some things you couldn’t bear to leave behind even if they were a pain in the arse to drag around with you? Or would you prefer to wing it and travel light? You can’t plan for everything so is there any point overburdening yourself carrying round half of your ‘prized’ possessions?
…you slip quietly into an alleyway for a rest – you’ve been walking for hours now and things seem to be quietening down. Everyone seems to be heading out of the city, but the roads are already jammed with vehicles so you don’t see the point in joining them. Traffic jams are bad enough on a Monday morning commute, end of the world jams are going to be hell…literally.
Instead of following the pack, you head into the city. The centre seems to be abandoned and surely that will make things easier? The zombies seem to be more attracted to large groups of ‘meat’ and being alone means you can slip quietly from pillar to post in search of sanctuary. Plus the city will be full of food, shops, cafes, office canteens, you’ll be able to find somewhere to hold up without bumping into any of those other pesky survivors…
But where to go? Would you pick an office – with a high vantage point, and plenty of floors to choose from, this might make for ideal shelter. Or how about a supermarket – plenty of food, and lockable storage rooms to hide in? Maybe one of the older buildings in town – the ones that could withstand an earthquake, they don’t build ‘em like they used to and their solid construction would make for the perfect impenetrable fortress.
…you swig the last of the water you collected from the drainpipes into plastic bottles and look towards the sky. It hasn’t rained in weeks and the food is going to run out any day. Food you can do without for now but you need water desperately. Summer is kicking in and the stuffy old library you’re hiding in is a heat trap. The occasional undead horror shuffles past the building but they don’t seem to see you. Sometimes you hear screams but you try to ignore them. You’ve kept quiet for almost a month now, reading books to pass the time. A pile of ‘Survival Techniques’ books lay at your side, spines cracked from being read so much. For the last week you’ve considered leaving and seeing if you can make it somewhere else. Anywhere else. You should have gone with George; you didn’t realise how lonely it would be until now.
Bored with the same old routine you decide to explore the vast library again. Dust motes circle the air as you make your way up one of the ornate stone staircases. There’s a supply closet halfway on the first floor landing and you wonder if there are any bottles of water in there. Hell, the sink might be full of soapy suds and stagnant tap water…you’ll drink it if it is.
The door is locked but a soft kick breaks the weak latch holding it shut. There’s no water, not even a sink – just cleaning fluids and mops. Just before you turn around you notice something on one of the lower shelves. Squatting to investigate you find a radio. It’s one of those wind-up types and you give the crank handle a few spins before flicking the on switch on the side of the case.
A voice… then crackling static, but you definitely heard a voice. You retune the radio and hold it tight to your ear.
The news isn’t good – it’s hard to make out the panicked voice perfectly but you get the gist of the of message. The Army is falling back, too many zombies to fight. They underestimated the number of infected and their weapons did little damage against the flood of undead sweeping the streets. It was a simple matter of maths; the number of zombies overwhelmed any attempt to dispatch them one at a time. The Army officer broadcasting was warning any survivors to ‘get the fuck out of Dodge’, in a few hours they were going to drop bombs and level the city. It was the most efficient way of clearing the large numbers of undead swarming the streets.
You drop the radio and sink to the floor. You’re weak from hunger, your throat is parched and sore, you’re muscles are fatigued, you don’t know if you have it in you to get out of the city. Even worse you’re no sure if you want to…
What would you do if you heard that message? Considering how tired, fed up, and alone you are, would you even bother to try and get out of the city? Wouldn’t it just be easier to sit back and let the bombs take you out? You’ve lost everyone you know, things can never go back to how they were, and even the Army is losing the battle against the undead…so what’s the point? Do you have the balls to continue, or do you think the best way out is just to give up? If the best you’re fighting for is a chance to be eaten another day, then why bother fighting?
Let me know you’re thoughts on all the points raised today and as an extra ‘treat’ for missing Friday and Saturday’s post I’ll finish off our little story of You the survivor.
Thanks for reading!