Hey reader.
Please note that this story is rated R for violence, language, and other things. If this isn't your cup of tea, try some other blog.
Please also note that I'm posting my chapters chronologically. If you're new here, find the earlier posts on the right sidebar. If you're coming back to read the next chapter(s), you'll find them closer to the top of the page.
This post is dated for the last day of the month as a gentle reminder to me that time is ticking, and also to keep this post at the top of the page. Thanks.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Withdraw From the Race
For those of you keeping track at home, in order for me to "win" NaNoWriMo by midnight this Friday I would need to write about 27,000 words in less than four days. That's about 7k per day which isn't gonna happen.
That said, I'm officially giving up on NaNoWriMo, because the pace is a little too crazy for me. I have two big things, notably spending time with my family and getting my academics on track that take precedence over trying to crank out a new chapter every evening.
My story, however, will continue. At irregular intervals I will post chapters as I see fit, ending on whatever word count I end up on when the story I have in mind is told. Thanks for your support, comments, and readership to this point.
That said, I'm officially giving up on NaNoWriMo, because the pace is a little too crazy for me. I have two big things, notably spending time with my family and getting my academics on track that take precedence over trying to crank out a new chapter every evening.
My story, however, will continue. At irregular intervals I will post chapters as I see fit, ending on whatever word count I end up on when the story I have in mind is told. Thanks for your support, comments, and readership to this point.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Chapter 18 - One Way
June 12th, 2008
12:02am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex and Angel Hair headed towards the roof to start their night watch shift. As they climbed into the attic, Ryan tried to make sense of his spinning thoughts.
"So what was that all about?" Angel Hair asked. "You said something about Jenny and looked like you were having a bad dream."
"Quite the opposite," T.Rex said. "I dreamed that Benji drove here in his car. Except it wasn't his normal car, it was like a souped-up battle chariot, and he had a chainsaw and a shotgun. We slaughtered an entire crowd of zombies and rode out of town packed in like sardines. It was only after we were clear that I remembered Jenny, and then I woke up all confused."
Angel Hair pulled the tarp that covered the roof hole and took a deep breath of the cool nighttime air. "Sounds awful."
"I don't know what was worse, that we forgot my girlfriend or that I woke up in the first place," T.Rex admitted. Together the two Fools shared a pensive stare into the foliage behind the apartment, trying to see more than shadows. Normally, street lights, porch lights, and a host of electronics kept the night at bay. Tonight, just the moon shone dimly on the group of survivors and the horde of zombies infesting the campus.
The longer Ryan sat staring into the dark, the more he began to worry. The Fools had been trapped in their upstairs apartment for one day shy of one week, and there was no sign of help. Worse, signs of life seemed to be deteriorating around Purdue. Power had not been restored, phone service was degrading, and they hadn't seen any signs or sounds of normalcy in quite some time.
T.Rex grabbed his pack of equipment and rummaged through it until he found his binoculars. He silently motioned for Angel Hair follow quietly, and then indicated he was going to scout around with an exaggerated sweeping spyglass motion. Hanging them around his neck, he very gently climbed out of the hole cut in the roof and rested his body on the rough shingles, trusting in friction to hold him on the roof.
Together they army crawled to the peak of the roof. Ryan motioned silently to Angel Hair to remove his glasses before they continued, and once he did they peered very slowly over the top of the roof.
The sight they saw was much more frightening than peering out of a window. Hundreds of shambling creatures in various states of decay walked the streets uncontested. Their horrible groans and stutter step on the gravel weren't nearly as bad as the awful stench that corrupted the air. The same breeze that brought temporarily relief from the humidity also carried a putrid decomposing odor. Ryan's nose rankled as he glanced around. Apartments and trees blocked a good portion of the view.
"Here's the plan," he whispered to Angel Hair. "We need to get a better look of the neighborhood. I'm gonna shuffle to the edge of the roof and hop on that awning over there. After that, I should be able to climb on the neighbor's roof. Watch for me to cross and wait for my signal to follow."
Angel Hair nodded silently and tapped his temple with two fingers. Ryan very gently slid down a few feet, out of sight of the front side of the apartment, and worked his way to the edge of the roof.
Sure would be great if I had some sort of loud distraction, Ryan thought. Perhaps some fireworks. He very gently reached his short leg out to try and test the sturdiness of the overhang he would land on, but it was several feet out of reach. T.Rex gripped his binoculars, gritted his teeth, and launched himself from the roof.
He landed on the awning with little room to spare, and the resultant clatter seemed like a percussion feature in the relatively still night. Ryan quickly scrambled across and reached the neighboring roof, and began to climb. Fearing the noise had attracted the creatures nearby, he carefully maneuvered behind the chimney and paused to let his heart stop pounding.
Ryan brushed aside a nearby branch and held up his hand for Angel Hair to see. He splayed all his fingers to form the "Run Play Five" signal. Nodding, Angel Hair slowly worked his way to the edge of the roof and also took a leap. He cleared the gap, and Ryan very carefully extended his arm to help him up.
They climbed to the peak of the roof and very carefully stood up, legs planted apart for balance. Ryan gave Angel Hair the binoculars and leaned against the chimney. He cupped his hands and nodded upward, and very carefully he hoisted Angel Hair on top of the brick chimney. From there Angel Hair was able to reach up and grab a nearby branch.
He climbed slowly up into an enormous tree that hugged the building. The branches thinned at the top and so did the leaves, which gave Angel Hair a massive view of the surrounding area. Carefully wedging his skinny body between two branches and removed the binoculars. He peered down the entirety of Harrison street to the west, South Grant street to the south, to the Wood street parking garage to the north, and to South Chauncey Avenue to the east.
Ryan held onto the chimney for support as he craned his neck upward, trying to see his partner through the foliage and darkness. Several uncomfortable minutes passed in relative silence. He shook a nearby branch three times to get Angel Hair's attention.
"Status report?" Ryan whispered, trying to project his voice above him.
"I've got a really great view," came a muffled reply. "I want to stay up here for a bit and really study things, confirm?"
"Confirmed. Shake three times when you're coming back down." Ryan carefully sat down behind the chimney and waited, shifting uncomfortably every few minutes. Attempting to distract himself, T.Rex silently rhymed names in his head for Do Run Run.
Finally, there was a distinct trio of leafy rustles and Ryan stood up. Angel Hair carefully descended from the branches and back onto the chimney before looking down, nervously.
"C'mon," T.Rex urged.
"I don't think I can," Angel Hair admitted. "It was tall enough that I needed a boost up, and when I jump I'm gonna land on either angle, break my leg, and roll off onto the ground. And then I'll be crippled and zombie bait."
Ryan held out his arms and curled his fingers in a supportive posture. "C'mon, and I promise I won't let you fall. Toss me my binoculars, first."
Angel Hair lowered the binoculars by the strap and then very tenderly slid his body from the top of the chimney. Still holding onto the rim with his arms with a death grip, he flopped over until he was dangling. Ryan grabbed Angel Hair's pant legs just as he fell, and when he hit the rooftop his right foot rolled inward.
There was a very stifled yelp as Angel Hair's ankle folded awkwardly, but T.Rex hang on and kept him from going over the edge.
"Oh damnit," Ryan said quietly.
"It's fine, I think I just twisted my ankle," said Angel Hair.
T.Rex paused. "No, not that. I mean, props for staying quiet and I'm glad you're okay, but I just realized something."
"What?" Angel Hair said nervously.
"We jumped down onto this roof," Ryan said. "I wonder how we're gonna get back across to the upstairs apartment..."
Current Word Count: 23,226
12:02am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex and Angel Hair headed towards the roof to start their night watch shift. As they climbed into the attic, Ryan tried to make sense of his spinning thoughts.
"So what was that all about?" Angel Hair asked. "You said something about Jenny and looked like you were having a bad dream."
"Quite the opposite," T.Rex said. "I dreamed that Benji drove here in his car. Except it wasn't his normal car, it was like a souped-up battle chariot, and he had a chainsaw and a shotgun. We slaughtered an entire crowd of zombies and rode out of town packed in like sardines. It was only after we were clear that I remembered Jenny, and then I woke up all confused."
Angel Hair pulled the tarp that covered the roof hole and took a deep breath of the cool nighttime air. "Sounds awful."
"I don't know what was worse, that we forgot my girlfriend or that I woke up in the first place," T.Rex admitted. Together the two Fools shared a pensive stare into the foliage behind the apartment, trying to see more than shadows. Normally, street lights, porch lights, and a host of electronics kept the night at bay. Tonight, just the moon shone dimly on the group of survivors and the horde of zombies infesting the campus.
The longer Ryan sat staring into the dark, the more he began to worry. The Fools had been trapped in their upstairs apartment for one day shy of one week, and there was no sign of help. Worse, signs of life seemed to be deteriorating around Purdue. Power had not been restored, phone service was degrading, and they hadn't seen any signs or sounds of normalcy in quite some time.
T.Rex grabbed his pack of equipment and rummaged through it until he found his binoculars. He silently motioned for Angel Hair follow quietly, and then indicated he was going to scout around with an exaggerated sweeping spyglass motion. Hanging them around his neck, he very gently climbed out of the hole cut in the roof and rested his body on the rough shingles, trusting in friction to hold him on the roof.
Together they army crawled to the peak of the roof. Ryan motioned silently to Angel Hair to remove his glasses before they continued, and once he did they peered very slowly over the top of the roof.
The sight they saw was much more frightening than peering out of a window. Hundreds of shambling creatures in various states of decay walked the streets uncontested. Their horrible groans and stutter step on the gravel weren't nearly as bad as the awful stench that corrupted the air. The same breeze that brought temporarily relief from the humidity also carried a putrid decomposing odor. Ryan's nose rankled as he glanced around. Apartments and trees blocked a good portion of the view.
"Here's the plan," he whispered to Angel Hair. "We need to get a better look of the neighborhood. I'm gonna shuffle to the edge of the roof and hop on that awning over there. After that, I should be able to climb on the neighbor's roof. Watch for me to cross and wait for my signal to follow."
Angel Hair nodded silently and tapped his temple with two fingers. Ryan very gently slid down a few feet, out of sight of the front side of the apartment, and worked his way to the edge of the roof.
Sure would be great if I had some sort of loud distraction, Ryan thought. Perhaps some fireworks. He very gently reached his short leg out to try and test the sturdiness of the overhang he would land on, but it was several feet out of reach. T.Rex gripped his binoculars, gritted his teeth, and launched himself from the roof.
He landed on the awning with little room to spare, and the resultant clatter seemed like a percussion feature in the relatively still night. Ryan quickly scrambled across and reached the neighboring roof, and began to climb. Fearing the noise had attracted the creatures nearby, he carefully maneuvered behind the chimney and paused to let his heart stop pounding.
Ryan brushed aside a nearby branch and held up his hand for Angel Hair to see. He splayed all his fingers to form the "Run Play Five" signal. Nodding, Angel Hair slowly worked his way to the edge of the roof and also took a leap. He cleared the gap, and Ryan very carefully extended his arm to help him up.
They climbed to the peak of the roof and very carefully stood up, legs planted apart for balance. Ryan gave Angel Hair the binoculars and leaned against the chimney. He cupped his hands and nodded upward, and very carefully he hoisted Angel Hair on top of the brick chimney. From there Angel Hair was able to reach up and grab a nearby branch.
He climbed slowly up into an enormous tree that hugged the building. The branches thinned at the top and so did the leaves, which gave Angel Hair a massive view of the surrounding area. Carefully wedging his skinny body between two branches and removed the binoculars. He peered down the entirety of Harrison street to the west, South Grant street to the south, to the Wood street parking garage to the north, and to South Chauncey Avenue to the east.
Ryan held onto the chimney for support as he craned his neck upward, trying to see his partner through the foliage and darkness. Several uncomfortable minutes passed in relative silence. He shook a nearby branch three times to get Angel Hair's attention.
"Status report?" Ryan whispered, trying to project his voice above him.
"I've got a really great view," came a muffled reply. "I want to stay up here for a bit and really study things, confirm?"
"Confirmed. Shake three times when you're coming back down." Ryan carefully sat down behind the chimney and waited, shifting uncomfortably every few minutes. Attempting to distract himself, T.Rex silently rhymed names in his head for Do Run Run.
Finally, there was a distinct trio of leafy rustles and Ryan stood up. Angel Hair carefully descended from the branches and back onto the chimney before looking down, nervously.
"C'mon," T.Rex urged.
"I don't think I can," Angel Hair admitted. "It was tall enough that I needed a boost up, and when I jump I'm gonna land on either angle, break my leg, and roll off onto the ground. And then I'll be crippled and zombie bait."
Ryan held out his arms and curled his fingers in a supportive posture. "C'mon, and I promise I won't let you fall. Toss me my binoculars, first."
Angel Hair lowered the binoculars by the strap and then very tenderly slid his body from the top of the chimney. Still holding onto the rim with his arms with a death grip, he flopped over until he was dangling. Ryan grabbed Angel Hair's pant legs just as he fell, and when he hit the rooftop his right foot rolled inward.
There was a very stifled yelp as Angel Hair's ankle folded awkwardly, but T.Rex hang on and kept him from going over the edge.
"Oh damnit," Ryan said quietly.
"It's fine, I think I just twisted my ankle," said Angel Hair.
T.Rex paused. "No, not that. I mean, props for staying quiet and I'm glad you're okay, but I just realized something."
"What?" Angel Hair said nervously.
"We jumped down onto this roof," Ryan said. "I wonder how we're gonna get back across to the upstairs apartment..."
Current Word Count: 23,226
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Chapter 17 - Head Games
June 10th, 2008
2:36pm
Apartment Parking Lot
Every zombie in the immediate area was trying desperately to get to Benji. The Fools took full advantage of the distraction and immediately began attacking the closest zombies which had their backs to the group.
The first kill by a Fool went to Beard. He ran forward and buried his hatchet in the skull of the first zombie before wrestling it free and attacking again and again. Directly to his right was Peace who wasted no time with own hatchet, covering Beard's flank. They worked in tandem and very quickly had created a salient into the horde of living dead.
Angel Hair and Rubble formed a similar duo, each wielding a pool cue. Rubble swung his with enough momentum that the thicker end would crack into the enemy skull and drop the foe to the ground. Angel Hair preferred to use the sharpened end of his as a spear, deftly stabbing into select eye sockets between Rubble's attacks to kill those that stumbled too close.
Cowboy went crazy with his bat like a kid in a candy store, wildly smashing any skull within arm's reach. Kamikaze was a bit more select with her machete attacks, carefully lopping off heads and only occasionally grinning like she enjoyed it.
T.Rex hung back with his crowbar, attempting to observe the others in action. He wanted to make sure that he had a good grasp of the Fools in combat for future encounters, if it came to that. He also made sure that nobody needed help or got flanked in a moment of concentration. He earned his first kill when a straggler came from around the side of the neighbor's house. He bobbed well away from the creature's outstretched arm, sidestepped, and brought the curved end of his crowbar down with all of his might onto the zombie's skull. It gave way with a crunch of bone and Ryan couldn't help but grin at the massive offense the group had displayed, including the dead zombie at his feet.
He turned and began to work his way closer to the center of the group, killing enemies that stood between himself and Valerie. Benji, in the meanwhile, had jumped into the fray and was carving a brutal swath of destruction with his chainsaw. He carved through undead flesh like a hot knife through butter, messily decapitating and amputating with medical precision.
"If they knew how to retreat," Ryan shouted over the roar of the saw, "do you think they would have given up by now?"
Benji brought the rotating blades onto a zombie skull, the spray coating Valerie's passenger door with more zombie slurry. "If they knew what was good for them, perhaps!" Benji shouted back. "So what happened to your arm? If it was a bite, Beard would've taken care of you by now, I'm assuming." Benji conversed with ease as he continued to slice and dice creatures in ever-widening arcs around his car.
Ryan grunted as he struck another skull with his crowbar, noting that after nearly a dozen skulls his attacks seemed more fluid and natural. "Oh, just some glass. Nothing to worry about." The wall of zombies separating the Fools from Benji was rapidly dwindling, even if the creatures could not make a sound tactical decision to save their lives.
T.Rex quickly scanned the area and saw the Fools in pairs and individually mopping up patches of zombies in the parking lot. "Hey guys," he shouted to them, "let's start closing in and get the hell out of here!"
On his command the Fools took a careful retreat, and T.Rex was happy to note most of them didn't just break and run, but instead surveyed the situation and then decided. As they returned, Ryan took the shotgun from Benji's back and removed the spent shells. "Left pocket," Benji said as he planted his feet and dispatched another zombie.
T.Rex reached into Benji's bulging front pocket and extracted two fresh shotgun shells and loaded the weapon before replacing it in the holster. The rest of the Fools reached Valerie safely and formed a loose protective semicircle around the passenger side. Beard subtly looked over each Fool for injuries, including accidental bites or scratches.
Benji instructed all the Fools to stow their gear in Val's trunk as he provided cover. He glared menacingly at the few zombies that had come to investigate the noise and his posture dared them to shuffle over to meet their doom. The chainsaw suddenly sputtered violently and then died, and Benji tossed it aside with a shrug.
"You're just going to leave that?" Cowboy said.
Benji replied calmly, "Dead weight, no fuel."
"Wait, are we all supposed to fit in here?" Angel Hair asked.
"Pretend it's a Yaris," Kamikaze said as she climbed into the back seat. She was referencing an earlier outing the year before, where they all attempted to fit into SoG's car
The rest of the Fools stuffed into Valerie any way they could, piling uncomfortably next to and on top of each other. Instead of complaining, they made it into a bizarre game of twister involving all three rear seat belts. Benji and Ryan waited for the other six to pile in before taking the driver and passenger's seat, respectively. Valerie roared to life with the turn of the key and Benji sat there, patiently for a few moments.
There was awkward silence before Beard, muffled under at least three limbs and an armpit said, "I don't mean to be rude, but can we get going already?"
Benji held up five fingers and silently ticked them away to an unknown timer. When the last of his fingers joined his fist, the Fools heard a massive amount of noise behind them. Only three Fools could actually turn behind to see a massive display of fireworks erupt from a dumpster behind Krannert Hall.
"What the...?" Peace trailed off.
"It's a distraction," Benji explained. "The sound and lights will draw zombies that way," he pointed backwards. "While we drive that way," and pointed foward. "On that note, make rockets go now!" he said as he floored the accelerator, and Valerie peeled out of the apartment parking lot, spraying three determined zombies with gravel.
As they drove, they saw Purdue as a disaster zone. Buildings were looted, broken glass and trash lay strewn about and the once vibrant campus was reduced to a shell of its former self. Students were horrible gruesome creatures, and the red brick buildings were dark. The power plant, in the distance, was on fire.
Benji did his best to navigate his way out of Lafayette, avoiding all but the smallest of backroads. Twice they had to find an alternate route around a road clogged with hundreds of wrecked cars, but the ad-hoc armor plating welded onto the car gave them protection from most of the stray zombies they met on the roadways.
Once they had cleared the city limits, they pulled over into an abandoned field of short grass and unpacked the Fools from the rear for a stretch and better ventilation. Benji put on some Beach Boys music to calm their shaking nerves, and Ryan nearly wept at the sweet sounds of technology. It was only once they were away from Purdue that Ryan noticed he was visibly shaking. His bandaged arm felt sore, and he started to get light headed.
Benji, a certified nurse, took notice right away and gently guided Ryan to the car and had him sit in the passenger seat slightly reclined. T.Rex sipped from his water bottle and rested as the other Fools stretched. A few minutes later a low moan was heard on the wind, and Benji motioned the others to cram back into his Pontiac. As they drove along the back roads into the setting sun, Ryan felt very weak. The air conditioner seemed to be only capable of delivering humid air, but he trusted Benji to deliver them to safety as he rested his eyes and slumped against the seatbelt.
---
"Ryan!" Kamikaze said as she shook his shoulder.
"We have to go get Jenny!" T.Rex shouted into the darkness.
"Shhh! Be quiet, or you'll wake the others. It's midnight, and your turn for watch, okay?"
Ryan woke up on a sleeping bag, confused. He looked around and saw the dark apartment as Angel Hair waited for him in the hallway. To his right was Peace, sleeping soundly, and to his left lay his own pack of equipment, untouched.
Current Word Count: 21,949
2:36pm
Apartment Parking Lot
Every zombie in the immediate area was trying desperately to get to Benji. The Fools took full advantage of the distraction and immediately began attacking the closest zombies which had their backs to the group.
The first kill by a Fool went to Beard. He ran forward and buried his hatchet in the skull of the first zombie before wrestling it free and attacking again and again. Directly to his right was Peace who wasted no time with own hatchet, covering Beard's flank. They worked in tandem and very quickly had created a salient into the horde of living dead.
Angel Hair and Rubble formed a similar duo, each wielding a pool cue. Rubble swung his with enough momentum that the thicker end would crack into the enemy skull and drop the foe to the ground. Angel Hair preferred to use the sharpened end of his as a spear, deftly stabbing into select eye sockets between Rubble's attacks to kill those that stumbled too close.
Cowboy went crazy with his bat like a kid in a candy store, wildly smashing any skull within arm's reach. Kamikaze was a bit more select with her machete attacks, carefully lopping off heads and only occasionally grinning like she enjoyed it.
T.Rex hung back with his crowbar, attempting to observe the others in action. He wanted to make sure that he had a good grasp of the Fools in combat for future encounters, if it came to that. He also made sure that nobody needed help or got flanked in a moment of concentration. He earned his first kill when a straggler came from around the side of the neighbor's house. He bobbed well away from the creature's outstretched arm, sidestepped, and brought the curved end of his crowbar down with all of his might onto the zombie's skull. It gave way with a crunch of bone and Ryan couldn't help but grin at the massive offense the group had displayed, including the dead zombie at his feet.
He turned and began to work his way closer to the center of the group, killing enemies that stood between himself and Valerie. Benji, in the meanwhile, had jumped into the fray and was carving a brutal swath of destruction with his chainsaw. He carved through undead flesh like a hot knife through butter, messily decapitating and amputating with medical precision.
"If they knew how to retreat," Ryan shouted over the roar of the saw, "do you think they would have given up by now?"
Benji brought the rotating blades onto a zombie skull, the spray coating Valerie's passenger door with more zombie slurry. "If they knew what was good for them, perhaps!" Benji shouted back. "So what happened to your arm? If it was a bite, Beard would've taken care of you by now, I'm assuming." Benji conversed with ease as he continued to slice and dice creatures in ever-widening arcs around his car.
Ryan grunted as he struck another skull with his crowbar, noting that after nearly a dozen skulls his attacks seemed more fluid and natural. "Oh, just some glass. Nothing to worry about." The wall of zombies separating the Fools from Benji was rapidly dwindling, even if the creatures could not make a sound tactical decision to save their lives.
T.Rex quickly scanned the area and saw the Fools in pairs and individually mopping up patches of zombies in the parking lot. "Hey guys," he shouted to them, "let's start closing in and get the hell out of here!"
On his command the Fools took a careful retreat, and T.Rex was happy to note most of them didn't just break and run, but instead surveyed the situation and then decided. As they returned, Ryan took the shotgun from Benji's back and removed the spent shells. "Left pocket," Benji said as he planted his feet and dispatched another zombie.
T.Rex reached into Benji's bulging front pocket and extracted two fresh shotgun shells and loaded the weapon before replacing it in the holster. The rest of the Fools reached Valerie safely and formed a loose protective semicircle around the passenger side. Beard subtly looked over each Fool for injuries, including accidental bites or scratches.
Benji instructed all the Fools to stow their gear in Val's trunk as he provided cover. He glared menacingly at the few zombies that had come to investigate the noise and his posture dared them to shuffle over to meet their doom. The chainsaw suddenly sputtered violently and then died, and Benji tossed it aside with a shrug.
"You're just going to leave that?" Cowboy said.
Benji replied calmly, "Dead weight, no fuel."
"Wait, are we all supposed to fit in here?" Angel Hair asked.
"Pretend it's a Yaris," Kamikaze said as she climbed into the back seat. She was referencing an earlier outing the year before, where they all attempted to fit into SoG's car
The rest of the Fools stuffed into Valerie any way they could, piling uncomfortably next to and on top of each other. Instead of complaining, they made it into a bizarre game of twister involving all three rear seat belts. Benji and Ryan waited for the other six to pile in before taking the driver and passenger's seat, respectively. Valerie roared to life with the turn of the key and Benji sat there, patiently for a few moments.
There was awkward silence before Beard, muffled under at least three limbs and an armpit said, "I don't mean to be rude, but can we get going already?"
Benji held up five fingers and silently ticked them away to an unknown timer. When the last of his fingers joined his fist, the Fools heard a massive amount of noise behind them. Only three Fools could actually turn behind to see a massive display of fireworks erupt from a dumpster behind Krannert Hall.
"What the...?" Peace trailed off.
"It's a distraction," Benji explained. "The sound and lights will draw zombies that way," he pointed backwards. "While we drive that way," and pointed foward. "On that note, make rockets go now!" he said as he floored the accelerator, and Valerie peeled out of the apartment parking lot, spraying three determined zombies with gravel.
As they drove, they saw Purdue as a disaster zone. Buildings were looted, broken glass and trash lay strewn about and the once vibrant campus was reduced to a shell of its former self. Students were horrible gruesome creatures, and the red brick buildings were dark. The power plant, in the distance, was on fire.
Benji did his best to navigate his way out of Lafayette, avoiding all but the smallest of backroads. Twice they had to find an alternate route around a road clogged with hundreds of wrecked cars, but the ad-hoc armor plating welded onto the car gave them protection from most of the stray zombies they met on the roadways.
Once they had cleared the city limits, they pulled over into an abandoned field of short grass and unpacked the Fools from the rear for a stretch and better ventilation. Benji put on some Beach Boys music to calm their shaking nerves, and Ryan nearly wept at the sweet sounds of technology. It was only once they were away from Purdue that Ryan noticed he was visibly shaking. His bandaged arm felt sore, and he started to get light headed.
Benji, a certified nurse, took notice right away and gently guided Ryan to the car and had him sit in the passenger seat slightly reclined. T.Rex sipped from his water bottle and rested as the other Fools stretched. A few minutes later a low moan was heard on the wind, and Benji motioned the others to cram back into his Pontiac. As they drove along the back roads into the setting sun, Ryan felt very weak. The air conditioner seemed to be only capable of delivering humid air, but he trusted Benji to deliver them to safety as he rested his eyes and slumped against the seatbelt.
---
"Ryan!" Kamikaze said as she shook his shoulder.
"We have to go get Jenny!" T.Rex shouted into the darkness.
"Shhh! Be quiet, or you'll wake the others. It's midnight, and your turn for watch, okay?"
Ryan woke up on a sleeping bag, confused. He looked around and saw the dark apartment as Angel Hair waited for him in the hallway. To his right was Peace, sleeping soundly, and to his left lay his own pack of equipment, untouched.
Current Word Count: 21,949
Chapter 16 - Impossible Odds
June 10th, 2008
2:17pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Time passed slowly for the besieged Fools. All of the male Fools (save Beard) had grown noticeable stubble on their chins, and knowledge of the growing threat outside left all of them tense. The constant moans grew louder each day, causing sleepless nights and restless days. There was little to do but sit and wait, hoping for some sort of help from the outside. They watched helplessly as time stole their rations away, moving from three full garbage bags to two.
Everything became a source of conflict. Plumbing had shut down the night before, and the inconvenience only exacerbated the irritability of the group. Five people sleeping in the crowded living room seemed like four too many, and the heat and humidity turned misunderstanding into bickering. The walls seemed to close in, and what little entertainment they had at hand was quickly exhausted.
T.Rex tried desperately to stick to a schedule. He encouraged everybody to sleep later to avoid the monotony of being awake. With rationing, breakfast, lunch, and dinner became little more than snack times at regular intervals. Even improv, for all its variability, began to wear thin. The group seemed to go through the motions of each game, but creativity was fading fast.
The number of zombies outside continued to increase each passing day.
---
It was Wednesday afternoon when the Fools first heard sounds outside other than the horrible moans of the living dead.
It started as a faint hum in the distance. "Did you hear something?" asked Angel Hair.
"It's just your imagination, kid," said T.Rex, wearily.
"No no, I think I heard it too. It's getting louder, I think," said Kamikaze. She went to the window and began peering through the blinds. Moments later a loud thud was heard, and Peace came running into the living room from the hallway, screaming.
"Guys! Guys! I was on the roof and I saw something! Look out the window right now!" he said as he yanked the cord for the blinds downward, flooding the room with bright sunlight. The Fools gathered around and watched in amazement as zombies at the end of the road began to violently flop aside as a hunter green object slowly but surely plowed through the crowd of living dead.
The sound grew into a beastly engine roar as the object continued to push towards the apartment parking lot. As the zombies were shoved aside, it became clear that it was a vehicle making its way forward. A Pontiac Bonneville.
"Anybody else think that might be Val?" Beard asked, hesitantly.
"I sure fucking hope so!" said Ryan.
"Who's Val?" Rubble asked.
Kamikaze said "I wonder how he got through all of this."
"Wait, Val is a he?" Rubble said.
"Guys! Everybody grab your packs and get ready to move, now." T.Rex commanded.
"Will somebody tell me who this 'Val' person is?" Rubble begged, pulling his backpack on. The rest of the Fools wasted no time quickly gathering their packs.
"Not who, but what," Ryan said as he double checked the ammunition in his rifle. "Valerie Rose is Benji's car."
Loaded with their equipment, the Fools gathered once more at the window and watched in eager anticipation. Valerie, still revving her engine as she pushed through the thickening crowd, was covered in scrap metal that had been welded on at lethal angles. Several dents and scratches covered the vehicle from numerous creatures that had been struck, and blood marred the dark paint.
The Fools exploded in cheers as Valerie slowed to a stop outside of the apartment. Forcing the door open with a mighty kick, Benji emerged from the driver's seat carrying a chainsaw, with a gun strapped across his back. He fought his way onto the roof of Valerie, caving in a zombie skull with his boot in the process. Standing tall atop the vehicle, he looked around at the masses of living dead now drawn to his position and grinned.
A single zombie managed to climb atop the hood of the car and it shuffled for him. Benji reached behind him and in one fluid motion pulled a shotgun from his back holster, held it straight out, and blew the zombie's head clean off.
Nobody, zombie or otherwise, had heard such a thunderous sound in over a week. The Fools waited in nervous anticipation. As the zombies converged on Valerie, Benji calmly blew the smoke from the barrel of the shotgun and shouted:
"Alright, you primitive screw-heads, listen up! See this?" he held the gun aloft over his head. "This... is my boom boom stick! It's a twelve-gauge, double-barreled Remington, Kieslers' top of the line. You can find this in the sporting department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. You got that? Now, I swear, the next one of you primates even touches me-"
Just then, a zombie managed to grasp hold of Benji's ankle and struggled to pull him into the mass of waiting hands and mouths below. Benji lowered the barrel of the shotgun and fired a round into the crowd below, obliterating the closest four zombie skulls outright, and knocking a few others back. He re-holstered the shotgun to his back and reached over with his free hand to grab the starter for the chainsaw. With a mighty draw the chainsaw roared to life.
The Fools burst from the upstairs apartment door. Renee lowered her rope ladder and went first and the rest of the Fools followed her. As they reached the ground they all removed their weapons and prepared to fight their way to Valerie.
"Now," Benji yelled over the moaning and machinery. "Let's talk about how we get you Fools back home!"
Current Word Count: 20,542
2:17pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Time passed slowly for the besieged Fools. All of the male Fools (save Beard) had grown noticeable stubble on their chins, and knowledge of the growing threat outside left all of them tense. The constant moans grew louder each day, causing sleepless nights and restless days. There was little to do but sit and wait, hoping for some sort of help from the outside. They watched helplessly as time stole their rations away, moving from three full garbage bags to two.
Everything became a source of conflict. Plumbing had shut down the night before, and the inconvenience only exacerbated the irritability of the group. Five people sleeping in the crowded living room seemed like four too many, and the heat and humidity turned misunderstanding into bickering. The walls seemed to close in, and what little entertainment they had at hand was quickly exhausted.
T.Rex tried desperately to stick to a schedule. He encouraged everybody to sleep later to avoid the monotony of being awake. With rationing, breakfast, lunch, and dinner became little more than snack times at regular intervals. Even improv, for all its variability, began to wear thin. The group seemed to go through the motions of each game, but creativity was fading fast.
The number of zombies outside continued to increase each passing day.
---
It was Wednesday afternoon when the Fools first heard sounds outside other than the horrible moans of the living dead.
It started as a faint hum in the distance. "Did you hear something?" asked Angel Hair.
"It's just your imagination, kid," said T.Rex, wearily.
"No no, I think I heard it too. It's getting louder, I think," said Kamikaze. She went to the window and began peering through the blinds. Moments later a loud thud was heard, and Peace came running into the living room from the hallway, screaming.
"Guys! Guys! I was on the roof and I saw something! Look out the window right now!" he said as he yanked the cord for the blinds downward, flooding the room with bright sunlight. The Fools gathered around and watched in amazement as zombies at the end of the road began to violently flop aside as a hunter green object slowly but surely plowed through the crowd of living dead.
The sound grew into a beastly engine roar as the object continued to push towards the apartment parking lot. As the zombies were shoved aside, it became clear that it was a vehicle making its way forward. A Pontiac Bonneville.
"Anybody else think that might be Val?" Beard asked, hesitantly.
"I sure fucking hope so!" said Ryan.
"Who's Val?" Rubble asked.
Kamikaze said "I wonder how he got through all of this."
"Wait, Val is a he?" Rubble said.
"Guys! Everybody grab your packs and get ready to move, now." T.Rex commanded.
"Will somebody tell me who this 'Val' person is?" Rubble begged, pulling his backpack on. The rest of the Fools wasted no time quickly gathering their packs.
"Not who, but what," Ryan said as he double checked the ammunition in his rifle. "Valerie Rose is Benji's car."
Loaded with their equipment, the Fools gathered once more at the window and watched in eager anticipation. Valerie, still revving her engine as she pushed through the thickening crowd, was covered in scrap metal that had been welded on at lethal angles. Several dents and scratches covered the vehicle from numerous creatures that had been struck, and blood marred the dark paint.
The Fools exploded in cheers as Valerie slowed to a stop outside of the apartment. Forcing the door open with a mighty kick, Benji emerged from the driver's seat carrying a chainsaw, with a gun strapped across his back. He fought his way onto the roof of Valerie, caving in a zombie skull with his boot in the process. Standing tall atop the vehicle, he looked around at the masses of living dead now drawn to his position and grinned.
A single zombie managed to climb atop the hood of the car and it shuffled for him. Benji reached behind him and in one fluid motion pulled a shotgun from his back holster, held it straight out, and blew the zombie's head clean off.
Nobody, zombie or otherwise, had heard such a thunderous sound in over a week. The Fools waited in nervous anticipation. As the zombies converged on Valerie, Benji calmly blew the smoke from the barrel of the shotgun and shouted:
"Alright, you primitive screw-heads, listen up! See this?" he held the gun aloft over his head. "This... is my boom boom stick! It's a twelve-gauge, double-barreled Remington, Kieslers' top of the line. You can find this in the sporting department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It retails for about $109.95. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair trigger. You got that? Now, I swear, the next one of you primates even touches me-"
Just then, a zombie managed to grasp hold of Benji's ankle and struggled to pull him into the mass of waiting hands and mouths below. Benji lowered the barrel of the shotgun and fired a round into the crowd below, obliterating the closest four zombie skulls outright, and knocking a few others back. He re-holstered the shotgun to his back and reached over with his free hand to grab the starter for the chainsaw. With a mighty draw the chainsaw roared to life.
The Fools burst from the upstairs apartment door. Renee lowered her rope ladder and went first and the rest of the Fools followed her. As they reached the ground they all removed their weapons and prepared to fight their way to Valerie.
"Now," Benji yelled over the moaning and machinery. "Let's talk about how we get you Fools back home!"
Current Word Count: 20,542
Monday, November 19, 2007
Chapter 15 - Intruder
June 8th, 2008
8:57am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex grabbed Angel Hair's arm and sprinted into the living room. He saw Beard and Kamikaze sitting up and looking around sans earplugs. The others were sound asleep.
"Everybody stay quiet," he hissed.
There was silence as everybody awake strained to hear. There was one moan slightly louder than the rest that seemed to emanate from below, followed by a few irregular thumps.
"I think one got in downstairs," Beard whispered, and Kamikaze nodded in agreement. Brant snored loudly and everybody instinctively froze. Once they realized there was no threat, they relaxed. After a few minutes the noises went away, and together with Kamikaze and Beard, the last night watch pair woke the rest of the Fools and told them of the noises.
"I think the apartment below us may no longer be secure," T.Rex warned them. "Anyway, everybody get some breakfast and then pick up where you left off yesterday."
The group did just that. The backpacks were loaded with supplies and tagged for each Fool and carefully set by their respective sleeping areas. Ryan had Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze fix up some lunch while he went to check on the attic hatch.
T.Rex walked down the hallway to the back left bedroom. He heard some muffled laughter, and as he turned the corner he saw a bright beam of light illuminating the closet.
"Hey guys, progress report?" T.Rex shouted up. There were two distinctive thumps as Peace and Cowboy entered the attic via the roof.
Beard poked his head into the closet from the attic hatch. "Hey T.Rex. We were just about to come tell you the good news. We managed to get through the last of the studs a few minutes ago, and had spent a few minutes sweeping away the sawdust and insulation. C'mon up here and have a look around!"
T.Rex took the invitation to join them and scampered up the side of the dresser, grabbed the lip of the attic hatch and hoisted himself up slowly. Beard grabbed his shirt and pulled until he was through. Dusting himself off, he saw the pile of debris in the back of the attic. Nearby was the blinding beam of light from a roughly square hole cut in the slanted roof, starting a few inches from the floor and extending about three feet upwards.
"The way I figured it, we can sit in the actual attic and look outside," Beard pointed out. "This gives us decent visibility out of the backside of the house, but more importantly keeps us almost entirely hidden. And we don't have to worry about falling off, since it's level inside. The view is partially obscured by trees and another building, but you can see through it to Marsteller St.
"If we need to bolt, this side of the house and the trees will hide us for a bit before we break out into the open. It's possible to climb out of the hole and get up onto the roof, but even if you lay flat, you really risk being seen. Still, you get visibility over the whole complex this way, and it'd be better for signaling. I think it's possible to jump the awning over there to your neighbor's house, by the way."
T.Rex beamed. "Great job, guys. This will work quite well. How do you plan on keeping the rain out?"
"I honestly think we could just put some buckets down and collect rainwater, if it came to that. I mean, we aren't really worried about some soggy attic boards when we just destroyed part of the roof, right?" Peace asked.
"Well, keep a tarp up here just in case," T.Rex conceded. "Oh, and some nails and a hammer. For now, let's all grab some lunch."
The group raided the garbage bags of nonperishable food for sustenance, each Fool choosing a pair of items that appealed to them. As the meal wound down, T.Rex addressed the group once more.
"Alright Fools, the good news is that the bulk of the tasks to be done around here are finished. The bad news is that that means we've got not much else to do but sit around and wait patiently. We'll still have three meals, but starting tomorrow we're gonna start rationing a bit tighter with the food. This evening we're also gonna talk about some basic combat stuff, but in the meanwhile, I want everybody to oval up."
"Improv?" Cowboy asked. "Now?"
"Bingo. I want everybody to ovulate for warmups. It'll be good to have a break and have some fun for a bit," T.Rex explained.
With no time restrictions, the group made their way through the typical exercises. They started with a mashup of Bippity Bippity Bop, Do You Like Your Neighbors, and What Are You Doing.
The Fools ran through some of the basic games of their repertoire, starting with Chain Murder Mystery. Next came The Clap, Blind Date, 60 Second Alphabet, Deaf Interpreter, Space Jump, Swinging Pendulum, and then Word Rations. They took a short break and discussed some of the better scenes and jokes, and how to improve them. Continuing on, they played Moving People, Three Things, Do Run Run, Good Bad Worst Advice, and finally closed with 185.
After the final "and scene" was called, the group gathered in the living room to hear Ryan speak, as was quickly becoming the routine.
Ryan cleared his throat and began: "Fools, today I want you all to gather your personal survival packs that have been prepared and open them. I want you to pull everything out inspect it, study it, and become familiar with it. And then I want you to think about how each one can be used to its fullest potential. And then I want you to re-pack it all, and know where everything is, how it fits in there, and how to do it all over again. Go to it."
The Fools were eager to oblige, and they each found their packs near their sleeping areas and began to disassemble. Some of the Fools began to swap food items out of taste preference before Ryan noticed.
"Hey!" Ryan shouted. "I want everybody to swap back to how their food was. Beard and I have divided those up specifically for the best balance of weight and nutrition as possible, so unless it's a cherry Pop-Tart for a strawberry one, keep the stuff how it was."
The mood was slightly subdued as the group continued to explore their packs, but the excitement quickly resumed as they discovered the variety and complexity of equipment presented to them to manage.
As they finished re-packing, Ryan signaled Beard. He stood up and addressed the Fools. "Hey everybody, listen up. T.Rex has asked me to go over some general zombie combat with you all. So here we go.
"First, if you can avoid combat with a zombie, do so. It's dangerous, and it's incredibly risky. They've got nothing to lose, and no sense of danger, mercy, or hesitation. All they want is your brains, and they will do anything they can to get it, and that means they shrug off wounds that would stop you all. In addition, the longer you stop and fight one zombie, the more the moans and sounds of battle draw others to your location. So: moral of the story - run and live to fight another day.
"That said, if you have to fight, obviously, use whatever you can to put distance between you. Avoid fighting with your hands or in close corners - find a stick or chair or anything to keep away. Always look around to keep from running into a dead end or more zombies. Ryan already mentioned that if somebody gets bitten, there's no hope, so take them the hell out.
"Now, the only way to stop a zombie is to destroy its brain. You can cut off both legs and the vicious bastard is still gone try to crawl for ya. Cut off both arms and it won't flinch, just stumble single-mindedly for ya. Cutting off its head is okay, but it can still bite and infect you, so stay away from body parts. If you shoot, aim for the temple, between the eyes, or some kind of head shot. You can riddle the body with holes and it won't do any good unless the brain is stopped."
Brant raised a hand. "Uh, with all due respect, don't we know all this already?"
"Just making sure," said T.Rex. "Continue."
"Right," Beard said. "Like I said, shoot for the head, or smash its skull with something. That's the way to stop them. If you don't have a weapon and can't run, I would suggest kicking it away. Don't try and grapple with it."
Ryan stood. "Okay, I'm going to quickly review all the weapons, so that everybody else is on the same page. Everybody has two weapons, in case of emergency or breakage. I've got the hunting rifle and one of the crowbars, to start.
"Beard has one hatchet and the only other gun, and that's his pistol. Peace has the other hatchet and ski poles. Rubble has his bow and one pair of pool cues, Angel Hair has the other pool cues and the other crowbar. Cowboy, you've got the baseball bat and the biggest kitchen knife. Lastly, Kamikaze gets the machete and that nifty two by four.
"Alrighty, looks like it's about bedtime, so everybody pack up. We've got maybe an hour before sunset, I'm guessing, so you've all got free time until then. Oh, and by the way, I want each pair of night teams to spend a few minutes up in the attic surveying outside. Don't go on the roof unless you absolutely have to, and even then make sure anything reflective is covered and anything dangly is silenced. Basically, if you hear or see anything strange, come get me or Beard."
As the Fools milled around a bit before turning in, Ryan pulled Beard to the side.
"How are the phones?" T.Rex whispered.
"Not good," Beard replied. "All of the Verizon phones are no longer getting any signal, and I haven't heard anything on any of the other ones. I think we should make sure the group stays busy to avoid the bad news."
Current Word Count: 19,566
8:57am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex grabbed Angel Hair's arm and sprinted into the living room. He saw Beard and Kamikaze sitting up and looking around sans earplugs. The others were sound asleep.
"Everybody stay quiet," he hissed.
There was silence as everybody awake strained to hear. There was one moan slightly louder than the rest that seemed to emanate from below, followed by a few irregular thumps.
"I think one got in downstairs," Beard whispered, and Kamikaze nodded in agreement. Brant snored loudly and everybody instinctively froze. Once they realized there was no threat, they relaxed. After a few minutes the noises went away, and together with Kamikaze and Beard, the last night watch pair woke the rest of the Fools and told them of the noises.
"I think the apartment below us may no longer be secure," T.Rex warned them. "Anyway, everybody get some breakfast and then pick up where you left off yesterday."
The group did just that. The backpacks were loaded with supplies and tagged for each Fool and carefully set by their respective sleeping areas. Ryan had Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze fix up some lunch while he went to check on the attic hatch.
T.Rex walked down the hallway to the back left bedroom. He heard some muffled laughter, and as he turned the corner he saw a bright beam of light illuminating the closet.
"Hey guys, progress report?" T.Rex shouted up. There were two distinctive thumps as Peace and Cowboy entered the attic via the roof.
Beard poked his head into the closet from the attic hatch. "Hey T.Rex. We were just about to come tell you the good news. We managed to get through the last of the studs a few minutes ago, and had spent a few minutes sweeping away the sawdust and insulation. C'mon up here and have a look around!"
T.Rex took the invitation to join them and scampered up the side of the dresser, grabbed the lip of the attic hatch and hoisted himself up slowly. Beard grabbed his shirt and pulled until he was through. Dusting himself off, he saw the pile of debris in the back of the attic. Nearby was the blinding beam of light from a roughly square hole cut in the slanted roof, starting a few inches from the floor and extending about three feet upwards.
"The way I figured it, we can sit in the actual attic and look outside," Beard pointed out. "This gives us decent visibility out of the backside of the house, but more importantly keeps us almost entirely hidden. And we don't have to worry about falling off, since it's level inside. The view is partially obscured by trees and another building, but you can see through it to Marsteller St.
"If we need to bolt, this side of the house and the trees will hide us for a bit before we break out into the open. It's possible to climb out of the hole and get up onto the roof, but even if you lay flat, you really risk being seen. Still, you get visibility over the whole complex this way, and it'd be better for signaling. I think it's possible to jump the awning over there to your neighbor's house, by the way."
T.Rex beamed. "Great job, guys. This will work quite well. How do you plan on keeping the rain out?"
"I honestly think we could just put some buckets down and collect rainwater, if it came to that. I mean, we aren't really worried about some soggy attic boards when we just destroyed part of the roof, right?" Peace asked.
"Well, keep a tarp up here just in case," T.Rex conceded. "Oh, and some nails and a hammer. For now, let's all grab some lunch."
The group raided the garbage bags of nonperishable food for sustenance, each Fool choosing a pair of items that appealed to them. As the meal wound down, T.Rex addressed the group once more.
"Alright Fools, the good news is that the bulk of the tasks to be done around here are finished. The bad news is that that means we've got not much else to do but sit around and wait patiently. We'll still have three meals, but starting tomorrow we're gonna start rationing a bit tighter with the food. This evening we're also gonna talk about some basic combat stuff, but in the meanwhile, I want everybody to oval up."
"Improv?" Cowboy asked. "Now?"
"Bingo. I want everybody to ovulate for warmups. It'll be good to have a break and have some fun for a bit," T.Rex explained.
With no time restrictions, the group made their way through the typical exercises. They started with a mashup of Bippity Bippity Bop, Do You Like Your Neighbors, and What Are You Doing.
The Fools ran through some of the basic games of their repertoire, starting with Chain Murder Mystery. Next came The Clap, Blind Date, 60 Second Alphabet, Deaf Interpreter, Space Jump, Swinging Pendulum, and then Word Rations. They took a short break and discussed some of the better scenes and jokes, and how to improve them. Continuing on, they played Moving People, Three Things, Do Run Run, Good Bad Worst Advice, and finally closed with 185.
After the final "and scene" was called, the group gathered in the living room to hear Ryan speak, as was quickly becoming the routine.
Ryan cleared his throat and began: "Fools, today I want you all to gather your personal survival packs that have been prepared and open them. I want you to pull everything out inspect it, study it, and become familiar with it. And then I want you to think about how each one can be used to its fullest potential. And then I want you to re-pack it all, and know where everything is, how it fits in there, and how to do it all over again. Go to it."
The Fools were eager to oblige, and they each found their packs near their sleeping areas and began to disassemble. Some of the Fools began to swap food items out of taste preference before Ryan noticed.
"Hey!" Ryan shouted. "I want everybody to swap back to how their food was. Beard and I have divided those up specifically for the best balance of weight and nutrition as possible, so unless it's a cherry Pop-Tart for a strawberry one, keep the stuff how it was."
The mood was slightly subdued as the group continued to explore their packs, but the excitement quickly resumed as they discovered the variety and complexity of equipment presented to them to manage.
As they finished re-packing, Ryan signaled Beard. He stood up and addressed the Fools. "Hey everybody, listen up. T.Rex has asked me to go over some general zombie combat with you all. So here we go.
"First, if you can avoid combat with a zombie, do so. It's dangerous, and it's incredibly risky. They've got nothing to lose, and no sense of danger, mercy, or hesitation. All they want is your brains, and they will do anything they can to get it, and that means they shrug off wounds that would stop you all. In addition, the longer you stop and fight one zombie, the more the moans and sounds of battle draw others to your location. So: moral of the story - run and live to fight another day.
"That said, if you have to fight, obviously, use whatever you can to put distance between you. Avoid fighting with your hands or in close corners - find a stick or chair or anything to keep away. Always look around to keep from running into a dead end or more zombies. Ryan already mentioned that if somebody gets bitten, there's no hope, so take them the hell out.
"Now, the only way to stop a zombie is to destroy its brain. You can cut off both legs and the vicious bastard is still gone try to crawl for ya. Cut off both arms and it won't flinch, just stumble single-mindedly for ya. Cutting off its head is okay, but it can still bite and infect you, so stay away from body parts. If you shoot, aim for the temple, between the eyes, or some kind of head shot. You can riddle the body with holes and it won't do any good unless the brain is stopped."
Brant raised a hand. "Uh, with all due respect, don't we know all this already?"
"Just making sure," said T.Rex. "Continue."
"Right," Beard said. "Like I said, shoot for the head, or smash its skull with something. That's the way to stop them. If you don't have a weapon and can't run, I would suggest kicking it away. Don't try and grapple with it."
Ryan stood. "Okay, I'm going to quickly review all the weapons, so that everybody else is on the same page. Everybody has two weapons, in case of emergency or breakage. I've got the hunting rifle and one of the crowbars, to start.
"Beard has one hatchet and the only other gun, and that's his pistol. Peace has the other hatchet and ski poles. Rubble has his bow and one pair of pool cues, Angel Hair has the other pool cues and the other crowbar. Cowboy, you've got the baseball bat and the biggest kitchen knife. Lastly, Kamikaze gets the machete and that nifty two by four.
"Alrighty, looks like it's about bedtime, so everybody pack up. We've got maybe an hour before sunset, I'm guessing, so you've all got free time until then. Oh, and by the way, I want each pair of night teams to spend a few minutes up in the attic surveying outside. Don't go on the roof unless you absolutely have to, and even then make sure anything reflective is covered and anything dangly is silenced. Basically, if you hear or see anything strange, come get me or Beard."
As the Fools milled around a bit before turning in, Ryan pulled Beard to the side.
"How are the phones?" T.Rex whispered.
"Not good," Beard replied. "All of the Verizon phones are no longer getting any signal, and I haven't heard anything on any of the other ones. I think we should make sure the group stays busy to avoid the bad news."
Current Word Count: 19,566
Friday, November 16, 2007
Chapter 14 - Reflections
June 7th, 2008
7:33pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Light quickly faded in the warm summer evening, and it was nowhere more evident than in the attic, as Cowboy, Peace, and Beard struggled with a way through the roof using flashlights and the tools at hand. They worked until they were nearly exhausted, and, upon seeing their progress and the toll it took on them, T.Rex authorized showers for everyone as long as the water held. Those waiting fixed themselves a hearty dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars.
Leaving the piles of individual equipment half sorted, they cleaned up and settled in for another hot and nervous night of rest. Ryan insisted that they all stay busy not only to complete important jobs and keep them from getting stir-crazy, but perhaps more importantly to distract them from constantly looking out the windows.
Unfortunately, as they turned in for the evening, the silence of the still apartment quickly gave way to the moans of the living dead outside. Earlier, Brant had found a box of earplugs nestled in the case of the rifle, and that gave everybody not on night watch a bit of respite from the horrible sounds. The windows, kept shut to muffle noise both coming in and going out, kept the heat trapped in as well, unfortunately. They had to cope as best as they could, and eventually they all drifted into uncomfortable sleep.
Ryan had always been a voracious dreamer, and the possible destruction of the world did nothing to quell that. Between the heat, the uncomfortable earplugs, the moans that still got through, and his aching muscles, he tossed and turned throughout the evening. Nightmares were creeping in as Cowboy and Kamikaze woke him and Angel Hair for the 3am-6am night watch shift.
T.Rex rose slowly. He started shaking his right arm vigorously and drew a quizzical look from Angel Hair. He silently mimed falling asleep on top of his tingling arm, and Angel Hair gave a silent "Ahhh", tapping his temple in recognition. They crept to the back bedroom and stood vigil over the apartment.
Ryan and Angel Hair peered through the blinds and gasped in unison. Outside, the number of zombies had increased dramatically, their eyes glowing ever-so-faintly in the darkness. Their shadowy figures stumbled around clumsily in the darkness, occasionally bumping into each other or an object without care. In the distance, a shrill scream could be heard, as a woman took what was most likely her last human breath.
Angel Hair sat quietly, contemplating. With no real light and the need to keep alert for strange sights and sounds, they more or less stared at the gaps in the blinds for a while. Ryan retreated inward, tuning out his self-doubt over leadership and instead took his girlfriend's frequent advice to think positive and be more optimistic. He thought about what a diverse and skilled group of loyal friends he was fortunate to collect.
Kamikaze. Renee was an incredibly sweet and thoughtful person, and the only girl in the current group of survivors. Come to think of it, she was now the "token female" now that Sweet Speak had graduated. Renee was a hard worker, and was always thinking of ways to improve their situation. She never complained about assignments, and didn't hesitate to ask for help. She'd grown up on a farm and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She was studying psychology after switching from engineering, so she thought with both halves of brain quite handily. One of her favorite pastimes was questioning people in different ways, just to see how they reacted or what they were comfortable admitting. It made conversation interesting, to say the least. She had recently shaved off most of her long, distinctive ponytail, but kept her weathered blue NASA hat. Renee was one of the tallest Fools, and nearly always wore a long denim skirt.
Peace. Andrew was a spastic and excitable fellow, but intensely inquisitive and dedicated on top of that. He has large eyes and always spoke with his hands. Often, he wore his glasses and hat with a stylish flair. He was an Eagle Scout, a chemist, and spoke multiple languages - but considered himself a writer first and foremost. He had questionable taste in music, but they shared a love of webcomics, Star Wars, and many other things to compensate. Just thinking of Peace incited a game loss. Ryan considered Peace his closest friend in the improv group currently, and was doing his best to groom him as a future leader of the troupe.
Beard. Eric was a manly and fierce looking character, but anybody who spent time with him knew he was a fair and incredibly reasonable person. The thing with Beard was, he'd give you a ton of chances to atone, but once you crossed the line, you were a goner. Ryan chalked that up to his Quaker beliefs and his Eagle Scout code. He also was trained in martial arts and a biologist. Peace and Beard were best friends since high school, and though they bickered like a married couple, they had a strong friendship that was not easily strained. Other than Beard's distinctive facial hair, both Andrew and Eric were similar in size, average height and weight with brown hair.
Cowboy. John was probably the most "normal" of the Fools, and not in a bad way. He was high octane, loud, and brash, but more sensitive than most people knew. Like Ryan, he loved to play Guitar Hero and watch football (as well as other sports). He usually wore his treasured blue Indianapolis Colts hat to practice. John had a large toothy grin and often amused himself with the antics of the other Fools, usually with Beard in the back of the room. He was fit and active, and was a management major. That kept him plenty busy, but he still found time to be in a business fraternity and to volunteer to be a Big Brother. He had a temper that flared up from time to time, but he worked hard to direct that into productive energy.
Angel Hair. Steve was a wiry chap with long, flowing locks and a comically large nose. He took it in stride, however, like everything else in life. He was the other newest Fool, and Ryan constantly strove to know them both better. He was a vegetarian, which currently did not conflict with the current menu of pre-packaged foods. His treasured leather jacket seemed to fly in the face of this belief, but he insisted it was "grandfathered in." He was a dual major, chemical engineering and theatre major, which gave him a dual personality similar to Renee. Rumor had it that he was something of a pickpocket as well, though that wouldn't do much against the living dead.
Rubble. Brant was a large jolly friend with a penchant for vests and fedoras. He was one of the two newest Fools, so Ryan didn't know him as well as he'd like to - yet. His major was medieval studies, which meant Brant had all sorts of useful skills like archery, fencing, and other weapons training. He had plenty of nerdy hobbies like reenactment societies and D&D, but that only endeared him to the group more. The first year of improv was a large test for Brant, but he emerged on the other side a stronger performer with more confidence and skill. Steve and Brant were as much a pair as Andrew and Eric, though they'd become friends with the entire troupe right away.
And himself? Ryan was easily the shortest of the Fools, with hobbit like features (though he'd just lost his curly hair). He was an aerospace engineer taking the scenic route through college, and the upcoming fall would be his fifth year...if society hadn't collapsed by then. He had been in the improv troupe nearly that entire time, and had even been Captain for a time, but that seemed like such a long time ago.
Ryan was by far the most senior member of the group, something that weighed heavily on his mind. He was only 22, but the other Fools around him seemed to look up to him at times as a respected elder, when in reality he still felt like a newcomer at times, especially when he thought back to all the past members. The older retired members seemed like giants, legends in their own right. Past exploits were handed down to the new Fools through a rich oral tradition. If something went wrong here, that could all be lost.
For all their differences, there were some similarities that connected them all, mostly having to do with improv. All of them were quick witted, clever, and committed to entertainment in some fashion. For the most part they shared the stage more or less equally, and valued teamwork. They all were trained to attack problems from multiple angles, to not deny, and of course improvise on and off the stage. Each one of them had individual specialties in academia, but most of them also had overlapping knowledge in more esoteric knowledge, from famous historical assassins to Golden Age movie stars.
Ryan slowly blinked the world back into focus as his trance-like concentration was broken by a sneeze. Angel Hair was sitting across the room quietly, eyes closed.
"Hey buddy," T.Rex said, softly.
"I was just resting my eyes!" Angel Hair insisted, snapping his head forward violently.
"It's fine. Let's go wake the others and get started for today."
They were walking towards the living room when they heard a pane of glass shatter nearby.
Current Word Count: 17,839
7:33pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Light quickly faded in the warm summer evening, and it was nowhere more evident than in the attic, as Cowboy, Peace, and Beard struggled with a way through the roof using flashlights and the tools at hand. They worked until they were nearly exhausted, and, upon seeing their progress and the toll it took on them, T.Rex authorized showers for everyone as long as the water held. Those waiting fixed themselves a hearty dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and granola bars.
Leaving the piles of individual equipment half sorted, they cleaned up and settled in for another hot and nervous night of rest. Ryan insisted that they all stay busy not only to complete important jobs and keep them from getting stir-crazy, but perhaps more importantly to distract them from constantly looking out the windows.
Unfortunately, as they turned in for the evening, the silence of the still apartment quickly gave way to the moans of the living dead outside. Earlier, Brant had found a box of earplugs nestled in the case of the rifle, and that gave everybody not on night watch a bit of respite from the horrible sounds. The windows, kept shut to muffle noise both coming in and going out, kept the heat trapped in as well, unfortunately. They had to cope as best as they could, and eventually they all drifted into uncomfortable sleep.
Ryan had always been a voracious dreamer, and the possible destruction of the world did nothing to quell that. Between the heat, the uncomfortable earplugs, the moans that still got through, and his aching muscles, he tossed and turned throughout the evening. Nightmares were creeping in as Cowboy and Kamikaze woke him and Angel Hair for the 3am-6am night watch shift.
T.Rex rose slowly. He started shaking his right arm vigorously and drew a quizzical look from Angel Hair. He silently mimed falling asleep on top of his tingling arm, and Angel Hair gave a silent "Ahhh", tapping his temple in recognition. They crept to the back bedroom and stood vigil over the apartment.
Ryan and Angel Hair peered through the blinds and gasped in unison. Outside, the number of zombies had increased dramatically, their eyes glowing ever-so-faintly in the darkness. Their shadowy figures stumbled around clumsily in the darkness, occasionally bumping into each other or an object without care. In the distance, a shrill scream could be heard, as a woman took what was most likely her last human breath.
Angel Hair sat quietly, contemplating. With no real light and the need to keep alert for strange sights and sounds, they more or less stared at the gaps in the blinds for a while. Ryan retreated inward, tuning out his self-doubt over leadership and instead took his girlfriend's frequent advice to think positive and be more optimistic. He thought about what a diverse and skilled group of loyal friends he was fortunate to collect.
Kamikaze. Renee was an incredibly sweet and thoughtful person, and the only girl in the current group of survivors. Come to think of it, she was now the "token female" now that Sweet Speak had graduated. Renee was a hard worker, and was always thinking of ways to improve their situation. She never complained about assignments, and didn't hesitate to ask for help. She'd grown up on a farm and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She was studying psychology after switching from engineering, so she thought with both halves of brain quite handily. One of her favorite pastimes was questioning people in different ways, just to see how they reacted or what they were comfortable admitting. It made conversation interesting, to say the least. She had recently shaved off most of her long, distinctive ponytail, but kept her weathered blue NASA hat. Renee was one of the tallest Fools, and nearly always wore a long denim skirt.
Peace. Andrew was a spastic and excitable fellow, but intensely inquisitive and dedicated on top of that. He has large eyes and always spoke with his hands. Often, he wore his glasses and hat with a stylish flair. He was an Eagle Scout, a chemist, and spoke multiple languages - but considered himself a writer first and foremost. He had questionable taste in music, but they shared a love of webcomics, Star Wars, and many other things to compensate. Just thinking of Peace incited a game loss. Ryan considered Peace his closest friend in the improv group currently, and was doing his best to groom him as a future leader of the troupe.
Beard. Eric was a manly and fierce looking character, but anybody who spent time with him knew he was a fair and incredibly reasonable person. The thing with Beard was, he'd give you a ton of chances to atone, but once you crossed the line, you were a goner. Ryan chalked that up to his Quaker beliefs and his Eagle Scout code. He also was trained in martial arts and a biologist. Peace and Beard were best friends since high school, and though they bickered like a married couple, they had a strong friendship that was not easily strained. Other than Beard's distinctive facial hair, both Andrew and Eric were similar in size, average height and weight with brown hair.
Cowboy. John was probably the most "normal" of the Fools, and not in a bad way. He was high octane, loud, and brash, but more sensitive than most people knew. Like Ryan, he loved to play Guitar Hero and watch football (as well as other sports). He usually wore his treasured blue Indianapolis Colts hat to practice. John had a large toothy grin and often amused himself with the antics of the other Fools, usually with Beard in the back of the room. He was fit and active, and was a management major. That kept him plenty busy, but he still found time to be in a business fraternity and to volunteer to be a Big Brother. He had a temper that flared up from time to time, but he worked hard to direct that into productive energy.
Angel Hair. Steve was a wiry chap with long, flowing locks and a comically large nose. He took it in stride, however, like everything else in life. He was the other newest Fool, and Ryan constantly strove to know them both better. He was a vegetarian, which currently did not conflict with the current menu of pre-packaged foods. His treasured leather jacket seemed to fly in the face of this belief, but he insisted it was "grandfathered in." He was a dual major, chemical engineering and theatre major, which gave him a dual personality similar to Renee. Rumor had it that he was something of a pickpocket as well, though that wouldn't do much against the living dead.
Rubble. Brant was a large jolly friend with a penchant for vests and fedoras. He was one of the two newest Fools, so Ryan didn't know him as well as he'd like to - yet. His major was medieval studies, which meant Brant had all sorts of useful skills like archery, fencing, and other weapons training. He had plenty of nerdy hobbies like reenactment societies and D&D, but that only endeared him to the group more. The first year of improv was a large test for Brant, but he emerged on the other side a stronger performer with more confidence and skill. Steve and Brant were as much a pair as Andrew and Eric, though they'd become friends with the entire troupe right away.
And himself? Ryan was easily the shortest of the Fools, with hobbit like features (though he'd just lost his curly hair). He was an aerospace engineer taking the scenic route through college, and the upcoming fall would be his fifth year...if society hadn't collapsed by then. He had been in the improv troupe nearly that entire time, and had even been Captain for a time, but that seemed like such a long time ago.
Ryan was by far the most senior member of the group, something that weighed heavily on his mind. He was only 22, but the other Fools around him seemed to look up to him at times as a respected elder, when in reality he still felt like a newcomer at times, especially when he thought back to all the past members. The older retired members seemed like giants, legends in their own right. Past exploits were handed down to the new Fools through a rich oral tradition. If something went wrong here, that could all be lost.
For all their differences, there were some similarities that connected them all, mostly having to do with improv. All of them were quick witted, clever, and committed to entertainment in some fashion. For the most part they shared the stage more or less equally, and valued teamwork. They all were trained to attack problems from multiple angles, to not deny, and of course improvise on and off the stage. Each one of them had individual specialties in academia, but most of them also had overlapping knowledge in more esoteric knowledge, from famous historical assassins to Golden Age movie stars.
Ryan slowly blinked the world back into focus as his trance-like concentration was broken by a sneeze. Angel Hair was sitting across the room quietly, eyes closed.
"Hey buddy," T.Rex said, softly.
"I was just resting my eyes!" Angel Hair insisted, snapping his head forward violently.
"It's fine. Let's go wake the others and get started for today."
They were walking towards the living room when they heard a pane of glass shatter nearby.
Current Word Count: 17,839
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Chapter 13 - Defensive
June 7th, 2008
11:53am
Upstairs Headquarters
The Fools fell silent as they stared at T.Rex, waiting for an answer.
"Alright," he began. "Let me explain a few things. When I first figured out there was a zombie infestation, I didn't know how far or how fast it would - still might - spread. And believe you me, the first thing I wanted to do is to grab my girlfriend and protect my family and friends.
"Unfortunately, I'm stuck here. I don't have a car. I don't have any way of fixing this, and rampaging across campus on foot, with the number of creatures out there is only gonna get me killed, or worse. I would be doing nobody any good as one of them. That's why we have the plan! To act calmly, rationally, and minimize our risks in a smart way.
"I knew that I couldn't get off campus quick enough, and the roads are probably clogged by now anyway, full of people fleeing the campus trying to escape what they can't comprehend. Some of you have cars, I know, but they're gonna do more harm than good. Everybody here was on campus, which is why I had Beard call you, which is why you were instructed to notify everybody you could as you assembled, even if they didn't believe you. Plus, Beard has been trying to contact the authorities at regular intervals, to no avail.
"The whole point of the plan is to set up this very fortress," he said, punctuating his words by stamping his feet, "so that we might survive to help others. Together, as a team, we have a much better chance of survival than just running around moment to moment trying to be heroes. Right?"
The Fools looked somberly at each other before nodding. There were a few muttered replies.
Ryan continued. "And do you really think I'd leave my girlfriend to fend for herself as the zombpocalypse rages on? Here's the deal - Jenny is safe at Hillenbrand, safer than we are here. Remember, I've worked there for the past two summers, so I have a pretty good idea of what's gonna happen over there. The conference for her hall was canceled, so her building is empty. She should be fine. Have some faith in the plan, okay?"
The collective tension on the room dissipated slowly as a wave of semi-relief washed over the Fools. Ryan had them go back to work on their morning tasks and joined the inventory crew.
It was slow, tedious work, and Ryan had plenty of time to mull over his numerous thoughts.
I wonder how many of them bought that, he pondered. I think they went along with it because I'm in charge, but I couldn't let them just worry about everything like that indefinitely. If they keep dwelling on the family and friends they might not be able to save, this could easily fall apart. It sucks, but we have to keep our thoughts focused on the here and now. I only called the Fools together that I knew were here, but I really wish we could get in touch with somebody, anybody on the outside. Some backup Foolish help sure would be great.
He continued stacking equipment and shuffling bags between rooms, making small talk to Kamikaze, Rubble, and Angel Hair as they cataloged the few remaining items.
T.Rex felt as though he was trying convince himself of his own decisions. Every hour that passed he felt less sure of his commands, his plan, and even leaving Jenny at Hillenbrand felt very wrong. Intellectually, he thought it was best to continue in this manner, but in his heart he felt a very protective urge.
No matter, he thought. Things will change soon enough.
Finally, by late afternoon, the group had finished cataloging and organizing all of the supplies they'd managed to gather before committing to the upstairs apartment. He called the Fools once more into the living room for a meeting, making sure the attic crew had a mandatory water break.
Once assembled, he opened up an important but delicate conversation. "Fools, we need to talk about something. It's not going to be pleasant, but it has to be said.
"The threat of infection by zombie is very real. There may come a day in the future when we have to leave our fortress and face the living dead on our own, and if you come in contact with them, it only takes a single scratch or bite to start the process that turns you into one of them."
Beard spoke up next. "Listen, if one of those fuckers gets a grip on you, you're pretty much toast. So stay alert and stay away. Attack from range, don't draw attention to yourself. If you do find yourself in a close-quarters situation, use a stick or a chair, anything, to keep them at bay. Watch your back and don't get cornered." He sighed. "Look, if one of you guys gets infected, I will make sure you are taken care of, no ifs, ands, or buts."
There was grim silence as the group looked at each other.
"I think what Beard is trying to say," Ryan said, "is that if I get infected in any way, I want any of you to kill me without hesitation. I'm telling you this now because that's what I expect of you, and that's the same thing you should and can expect from me. Got it?"
Everybody nodded. Ryan had everybody take a few minutes break to think things over, to make sure that sunk in.
"Alright, attic crew, see what more you can get before sunset," Ryan said. They slowly walked out of the living room to what was undoubtedly uncomfortable work. "The rest of you, I want you to start organizing individual equipment piles for each person. We're gonna get all this gear together for each Fool and put them into backpacks and duffels to be kept with them at all times, so that everybody has what they need in case of an emergency.
"Each pile should include a primary and secondary weapon with the appropriate gear, like ammo and scopes. Each person gets water and rations to be saved for emergencies only, so make sure they're well sealed, quiet, and sturdy. We'll divide up the other gear on a case by case basis, with emphasis on matching equipment to skills, weight considerations, and redundancy amongst the group."
He quickly scanned over the master inventory list.
-1 hunting rifle with 80 rounds ammunition
-1 handgun with 45 rounds
-2 pairs of binoculars
- 7 cellular phones
- 3 complete first aid kits
- 6 sleeping bags
- Peace's lockpicking kit
- rope, garbage bags, duct tape, a few large tarps
- 6 flashlights
- buckets, milk 1 gallon containers, a few tupperware pieces
- 1 15 foot ladder
- several furniture items, stair planks
- blankets, towels, and a few changes of clothes
- Brant's longbow with 30 arrows
- matches, batteries
- a toolbox full of hand tools (hand saw, hammer, screwdriver, nails, etc.)
- baseball bat, a lamp, two crowbars
- 2 hatchets, a machete, and 2 full sets of kitchen knives, ski poles
- 4 pool cues
- several bottles of alcohol
- 4 cases of bottled water, several cases of soda
- 4 large trash bags full of non-perishable food items
- a spice rack, and several bottles of painkillers and drugs
- grooming kit, mirror
- a map of Purdue and surrounding areas
It was surprising how many things they'd gathered on such short notice, Ryan noted. Only time would tell if it was enough.
Current Word Count: 16,229
11:53am
Upstairs Headquarters
The Fools fell silent as they stared at T.Rex, waiting for an answer.
"Alright," he began. "Let me explain a few things. When I first figured out there was a zombie infestation, I didn't know how far or how fast it would - still might - spread. And believe you me, the first thing I wanted to do is to grab my girlfriend and protect my family and friends.
"Unfortunately, I'm stuck here. I don't have a car. I don't have any way of fixing this, and rampaging across campus on foot, with the number of creatures out there is only gonna get me killed, or worse. I would be doing nobody any good as one of them. That's why we have the plan! To act calmly, rationally, and minimize our risks in a smart way.
"I knew that I couldn't get off campus quick enough, and the roads are probably clogged by now anyway, full of people fleeing the campus trying to escape what they can't comprehend. Some of you have cars, I know, but they're gonna do more harm than good. Everybody here was on campus, which is why I had Beard call you, which is why you were instructed to notify everybody you could as you assembled, even if they didn't believe you. Plus, Beard has been trying to contact the authorities at regular intervals, to no avail.
"The whole point of the plan is to set up this very fortress," he said, punctuating his words by stamping his feet, "so that we might survive to help others. Together, as a team, we have a much better chance of survival than just running around moment to moment trying to be heroes. Right?"
The Fools looked somberly at each other before nodding. There were a few muttered replies.
Ryan continued. "And do you really think I'd leave my girlfriend to fend for herself as the zombpocalypse rages on? Here's the deal - Jenny is safe at Hillenbrand, safer than we are here. Remember, I've worked there for the past two summers, so I have a pretty good idea of what's gonna happen over there. The conference for her hall was canceled, so her building is empty. She should be fine. Have some faith in the plan, okay?"
The collective tension on the room dissipated slowly as a wave of semi-relief washed over the Fools. Ryan had them go back to work on their morning tasks and joined the inventory crew.
It was slow, tedious work, and Ryan had plenty of time to mull over his numerous thoughts.
I wonder how many of them bought that, he pondered. I think they went along with it because I'm in charge, but I couldn't let them just worry about everything like that indefinitely. If they keep dwelling on the family and friends they might not be able to save, this could easily fall apart. It sucks, but we have to keep our thoughts focused on the here and now. I only called the Fools together that I knew were here, but I really wish we could get in touch with somebody, anybody on the outside. Some backup Foolish help sure would be great.
He continued stacking equipment and shuffling bags between rooms, making small talk to Kamikaze, Rubble, and Angel Hair as they cataloged the few remaining items.
T.Rex felt as though he was trying convince himself of his own decisions. Every hour that passed he felt less sure of his commands, his plan, and even leaving Jenny at Hillenbrand felt very wrong. Intellectually, he thought it was best to continue in this manner, but in his heart he felt a very protective urge.
No matter, he thought. Things will change soon enough.
Finally, by late afternoon, the group had finished cataloging and organizing all of the supplies they'd managed to gather before committing to the upstairs apartment. He called the Fools once more into the living room for a meeting, making sure the attic crew had a mandatory water break.
Once assembled, he opened up an important but delicate conversation. "Fools, we need to talk about something. It's not going to be pleasant, but it has to be said.
"The threat of infection by zombie is very real. There may come a day in the future when we have to leave our fortress and face the living dead on our own, and if you come in contact with them, it only takes a single scratch or bite to start the process that turns you into one of them."
Beard spoke up next. "Listen, if one of those fuckers gets a grip on you, you're pretty much toast. So stay alert and stay away. Attack from range, don't draw attention to yourself. If you do find yourself in a close-quarters situation, use a stick or a chair, anything, to keep them at bay. Watch your back and don't get cornered." He sighed. "Look, if one of you guys gets infected, I will make sure you are taken care of, no ifs, ands, or buts."
There was grim silence as the group looked at each other.
"I think what Beard is trying to say," Ryan said, "is that if I get infected in any way, I want any of you to kill me without hesitation. I'm telling you this now because that's what I expect of you, and that's the same thing you should and can expect from me. Got it?"
Everybody nodded. Ryan had everybody take a few minutes break to think things over, to make sure that sunk in.
"Alright, attic crew, see what more you can get before sunset," Ryan said. They slowly walked out of the living room to what was undoubtedly uncomfortable work. "The rest of you, I want you to start organizing individual equipment piles for each person. We're gonna get all this gear together for each Fool and put them into backpacks and duffels to be kept with them at all times, so that everybody has what they need in case of an emergency.
"Each pile should include a primary and secondary weapon with the appropriate gear, like ammo and scopes. Each person gets water and rations to be saved for emergencies only, so make sure they're well sealed, quiet, and sturdy. We'll divide up the other gear on a case by case basis, with emphasis on matching equipment to skills, weight considerations, and redundancy amongst the group."
He quickly scanned over the master inventory list.
-1 hunting rifle with 80 rounds ammunition
-1 handgun with 45 rounds
-2 pairs of binoculars
- 7 cellular phones
- 3 complete first aid kits
- 6 sleeping bags
- Peace's lockpicking kit
- rope, garbage bags, duct tape, a few large tarps
- 6 flashlights
- buckets, milk 1 gallon containers, a few tupperware pieces
- 1 15 foot ladder
- several furniture items, stair planks
- blankets, towels, and a few changes of clothes
- Brant's longbow with 30 arrows
- matches, batteries
- a toolbox full of hand tools (hand saw, hammer, screwdriver, nails, etc.)
- baseball bat, a lamp, two crowbars
- 2 hatchets, a machete, and 2 full sets of kitchen knives, ski poles
- 4 pool cues
- several bottles of alcohol
- 4 cases of bottled water, several cases of soda
- 4 large trash bags full of non-perishable food items
- a spice rack, and several bottles of painkillers and drugs
- grooming kit, mirror
- a map of Purdue and surrounding areas
It was surprising how many things they'd gathered on such short notice, Ryan noted. Only time would tell if it was enough.
Current Word Count: 16,229
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Chapter 12 - Discussion
June 7th, 2008
11:22am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex gathered the Fools once more for a meal. The attic crew was happy to avoid the rapidly increasing temperature, the inventory crew was happy to take a break from the monotony of counting and listing. Both groups were making great progress, they reported, as a few cans of cold condensed soup was shared seven ways.
"Anybody know what today is?" Ryan asked the assembled group as lunch wound down. Cowboy was the first to correctly identify the date, and the Fools stared at Ryan, expectantly.
"I thought of something this morning," T.Rex began. "I know Benji's wedding was postponed earlier this year. However, I think it's fitting that the original date was today. I remember because he kept telling us to think of six seven oh eight. We always used to joke about the zombpocalypse breaking out during his wedding vows. Y'know, about the groomsmen being chosen to defend against the living dead. To think, if it hadn't been for his medical internship pushing it back, who knows what might have actually happened."
Renee was the first to comment. "Wait, you really think the outbreak is threatening that far?"
"Well, we don't really have any accurate knowledge about how far this thing has gone," said Angel Hair.
"It depends a lot on how this all started," Rubble chimed in.
Ryan shrugged. "Well, along those lines, I think it started here at Purdue. I know that might sound crazy, but perhaps it was a virus that escaped containment?"
"That's biologically unsound!" Beard said, incredulously.
"I hadn't heard anything about any zombies until I got the call from Beard," Kamikaze said. "I was pretty sure Purdue didn't have anything like that, especially not on campus where students might access it."
"They don't, trust me. I'm in the freakin' biology program," Beard said, defensively. "The only thing I can think of is that some jackass brought some exotic materials here as part of a special research project and it somehow got into the wrong hands. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary outside of Purdue, though."
Ryan sighed. "Unless anybody can tell me there was another outbreak or at least reason to suspect a different source, it's my guess that this started here. Otherwise we probably would've heard more strange news reports, or at least suspicious activity, right?"
The group seemed unsure, but some nodded.
"Well, any other theories about how this started? Perhaps it was nanotechnology gone astray?" Peace offered.
"That's even more biologically unsound!" Beard said emphatically.
Cowboy spoke up once more. "Okay, I think the way it started is kind of irrelevant, guys."
"Okay, well, even if we ignore the cause, we can still make some educated guesses about the outbreak and the spread," Kamikaze said.
"I'm thinking at least a Class 2 outbreak," Ryan said. "That means at least Purdue, West Lafayette, and probably Lafayette across the river are in immediate danger. My best guess on what I could gather before initiating our plan was that Patient Zero came from somewhere near Harrison Street. That's somewhere around here. That initial infection got to a few others who stayed in the Student Health Center, one of which stayed.
"From there, who knows what the fuck happened. I think a construction worker got infected, my neighbor may have gotten it, the missing grad student, and a shadowy attacker on Tapawingo that nearly got me just the other night. None of which I recognize out there, by the way. Not that I know what they all look like dead-on. Uh, no pun intended.
"Plus, I should note the Police phones were out two nights ago and we've had power outages. Between the thousands of people coming and going for Purdue conferences, the commuting professors and students, and the tons of other people coming and going for academics, lectures, classes, facilities, etc., and who knows where an infected could've ended up. I highly doubt this has stayed just on our campus, but I don't think it's hit Class 3 yet."
"Well let's hope not," Peace said. "Class 3 is global, and we're pretty much all screwed then."
"I guess it might also depend on how long the victims take to die of an infection, and then reanimate," Rubble noted. "Because if it's relatively quick, nobody could get very far before becoming a zombie. If it took longer, they could carry the infection further."
Ryan hesitated before continuing. "I heard somebody say they got infected at a late-night party, and then the next morning they were feeling ill and unless I was mistaken, died shortly thereafter." He hoped the others would not interrogate him about how he'd broken into the neighbor's house, and how he'd seen firsthand the man slowly fade away.
"Well," Beard said. "I think we can estimate a statewide threat, for now. I will make sure the phones are all checked after we clean up here. Unless there are messages, I'm gonna make some calls and try to get this information out."
"Wait," Kamikaze interjected. "Ryan, you said that people are coming in for Purdue conferences, right?"
"Yes..." he trailed off, unsure of where this was headed.
"Those conferences are, what, 50-1,000 people at a time? And they stay in the residence halls?"
"Uh-huh..." Ryan nodded.
"Well, what about Jenny? She's working at Hillenbrand right now!"
Current Word Count: 14,948
11:22am
Upstairs Headquarters
T.Rex gathered the Fools once more for a meal. The attic crew was happy to avoid the rapidly increasing temperature, the inventory crew was happy to take a break from the monotony of counting and listing. Both groups were making great progress, they reported, as a few cans of cold condensed soup was shared seven ways.
"Anybody know what today is?" Ryan asked the assembled group as lunch wound down. Cowboy was the first to correctly identify the date, and the Fools stared at Ryan, expectantly.
"I thought of something this morning," T.Rex began. "I know Benji's wedding was postponed earlier this year. However, I think it's fitting that the original date was today. I remember because he kept telling us to think of six seven oh eight. We always used to joke about the zombpocalypse breaking out during his wedding vows. Y'know, about the groomsmen being chosen to defend against the living dead. To think, if it hadn't been for his medical internship pushing it back, who knows what might have actually happened."
Renee was the first to comment. "Wait, you really think the outbreak is threatening that far?"
"Well, we don't really have any accurate knowledge about how far this thing has gone," said Angel Hair.
"It depends a lot on how this all started," Rubble chimed in.
Ryan shrugged. "Well, along those lines, I think it started here at Purdue. I know that might sound crazy, but perhaps it was a virus that escaped containment?"
"That's biologically unsound!" Beard said, incredulously.
"I hadn't heard anything about any zombies until I got the call from Beard," Kamikaze said. "I was pretty sure Purdue didn't have anything like that, especially not on campus where students might access it."
"They don't, trust me. I'm in the freakin' biology program," Beard said, defensively. "The only thing I can think of is that some jackass brought some exotic materials here as part of a special research project and it somehow got into the wrong hands. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary outside of Purdue, though."
Ryan sighed. "Unless anybody can tell me there was another outbreak or at least reason to suspect a different source, it's my guess that this started here. Otherwise we probably would've heard more strange news reports, or at least suspicious activity, right?"
The group seemed unsure, but some nodded.
"Well, any other theories about how this started? Perhaps it was nanotechnology gone astray?" Peace offered.
"That's even more biologically unsound!" Beard said emphatically.
Cowboy spoke up once more. "Okay, I think the way it started is kind of irrelevant, guys."
"Okay, well, even if we ignore the cause, we can still make some educated guesses about the outbreak and the spread," Kamikaze said.
"I'm thinking at least a Class 2 outbreak," Ryan said. "That means at least Purdue, West Lafayette, and probably Lafayette across the river are in immediate danger. My best guess on what I could gather before initiating our plan was that Patient Zero came from somewhere near Harrison Street. That's somewhere around here. That initial infection got to a few others who stayed in the Student Health Center, one of which stayed.
"From there, who knows what the fuck happened. I think a construction worker got infected, my neighbor may have gotten it, the missing grad student, and a shadowy attacker on Tapawingo that nearly got me just the other night. None of which I recognize out there, by the way. Not that I know what they all look like dead-on. Uh, no pun intended.
"Plus, I should note the Police phones were out two nights ago and we've had power outages. Between the thousands of people coming and going for Purdue conferences, the commuting professors and students, and the tons of other people coming and going for academics, lectures, classes, facilities, etc., and who knows where an infected could've ended up. I highly doubt this has stayed just on our campus, but I don't think it's hit Class 3 yet."
"Well let's hope not," Peace said. "Class 3 is global, and we're pretty much all screwed then."
"I guess it might also depend on how long the victims take to die of an infection, and then reanimate," Rubble noted. "Because if it's relatively quick, nobody could get very far before becoming a zombie. If it took longer, they could carry the infection further."
Ryan hesitated before continuing. "I heard somebody say they got infected at a late-night party, and then the next morning they were feeling ill and unless I was mistaken, died shortly thereafter." He hoped the others would not interrogate him about how he'd broken into the neighbor's house, and how he'd seen firsthand the man slowly fade away.
"Well," Beard said. "I think we can estimate a statewide threat, for now. I will make sure the phones are all checked after we clean up here. Unless there are messages, I'm gonna make some calls and try to get this information out."
"Wait," Kamikaze interjected. "Ryan, you said that people are coming in for Purdue conferences, right?"
"Yes..." he trailed off, unsure of where this was headed.
"Those conferences are, what, 50-1,000 people at a time? And they stay in the residence halls?"
"Uh-huh..." Ryan nodded.
"Well, what about Jenny? She's working at Hillenbrand right now!"
Current Word Count: 14,948
Chapter 11 - Long Nights
June 6th, 2008
9:08pm
Upstairs Headquarters
There was nothing Ryan could do to stop them.
The entire group of Fools scrambled out of sleeping bags and blankets, crowding to the windows. Each peered through a slat of the blinds to look out into the night.
"Guys!" Ryan hissed. "At least stay quiet, and make sure there is no light coming from up here!"
Looking around to make sure there were no sources of light to betray their setup, Ryan found his way to the window to join the others. The Fools parted to let him access a lower slat and somebody accidentally elbowed his bandaged arm. Wincing in pain, he gazed into the darkness and grimaced at the sight.
Several silhouettes could be seen in the parking lot, in the streets, and the nearby sidewalks and pathways. They stumbled and lurched around, each with a distinctive way of dragging its feet. Ryan even thought he saw one in a window in an apartment across the way.
T.Rex was dismayed as he spoke. "It's spreading even faster than I thought."
"There's only about thirty of them, by my count," said Angel Hair, optimistically.
"I could take 'em," Beard said.
"Listen. Nobody's going anywhere, and attacking in the dead of night is madness. You'd only be drawing more out. I want everybody to get back in bed and try and get some sleep." Ryan was terse with his orders, but felt uncomfortable. Like I can order these guys to get to sleep, he thought. Hell, I probably won't even sleep myself. Still, I feel like the group needs to know somebody is in control of the situation, as it were.
As the group settled back into their sleeping positions, Ryan tried to push the doubt of his own leadership from his mind. They all talked nervously, ignoring the occasional moan that permeated the still night. Between the excitement, the noise, and the heat, it was a long while before voices started leaving the group chatter. Nobody had to be woken up at midnight for the changing of the guard.
---
Ryan felt a hand over this mouth and he flailed about momentarily, before Beard came into focus. Beard raised a finger to his mouth and extended his free hand, helping Ryan to his feet.
"You're up for third shift," Beard whispered. "Nothing to report."
"Good work," T.Rex replied. "See you in the morning." He saw Cowboy across the room tapping Kamikaze awake and he waved her to the back room.
The two crept back to the back right bedroom and closed the door before they spoke again.
"So, what exactly are we supposed to do on this night watch, anyway?" Kamikaze asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Well," he yawned. "We're mainly just making sure the others get a chance to rest. We watch for attacks, for any sign of danger, or any sign of help. Things like that."
She nodded, and they took up positions in folding chairs facing the window. Kamikaze refused to let the shift pass in silence, and Ryan was glad for the conversation, in part to make sure he stayed awake and alert.
Among Kamikaze's chief concerns was who might take care of the animals in the veterinary portion of campus if the people in charge were infected. Ryan was slightly ashamed to admit that he was less concerned about them than saving his own life.
As their shift ended, the sun began to rise and filter through the blinds. It became light enough that they broke out a pack of playing cards. They had a healthy game of gin rummy started, with Renee leading the series 3-2, before somebody tapped on the door.
The noise startled Ryan, and before he could recover Kamikaze said "c'mon in," softly.
The door slowly opened, and a groggy Beard shuffled in. "I really couldn't sleep much, and I don't think anybody else did," he reported.
"Fair enough," Ryan finally said. "I think we may have to work out a pair of codewords. I don't want to have to worry about a zombie with an uncannily human knock," he chuckled. "Kamikaze, I want you to get breakfast started, in a little bit. Beard, you make sure everybody is up and awake soon. I'd like to get a good start on the day, because there's still work to be done."
The apartment slowly stirred to life as each Fool either woke from the sun or the sounds of the others. Together they shared a sugary breakfast of Pop-Tarts and water, and to those who disliked the taste, it already seemed like the food options were unpleasant.
Post breakfast, Ryan divided the Fools equally to tackle the two biggest tasks left. Peace, Cowboy, and Beard went to work on the roof hatch while Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze set out to to finish the inventory list.
Ryan sat down with a notepad and began to compile a set of notes, mainly lists of things to do. Something felt wrong, and he could not figure out what. He mentally reviewed the Emergency Zed Plan, trying to think of something he'd missed, or a step that wasn't completed. He chewed on the end of his pen as he searched for the right detail.
All of the sudden, it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Current Word Count: 14,057
9:08pm
Upstairs Headquarters
There was nothing Ryan could do to stop them.
The entire group of Fools scrambled out of sleeping bags and blankets, crowding to the windows. Each peered through a slat of the blinds to look out into the night.
"Guys!" Ryan hissed. "At least stay quiet, and make sure there is no light coming from up here!"
Looking around to make sure there were no sources of light to betray their setup, Ryan found his way to the window to join the others. The Fools parted to let him access a lower slat and somebody accidentally elbowed his bandaged arm. Wincing in pain, he gazed into the darkness and grimaced at the sight.
Several silhouettes could be seen in the parking lot, in the streets, and the nearby sidewalks and pathways. They stumbled and lurched around, each with a distinctive way of dragging its feet. Ryan even thought he saw one in a window in an apartment across the way.
T.Rex was dismayed as he spoke. "It's spreading even faster than I thought."
"There's only about thirty of them, by my count," said Angel Hair, optimistically.
"I could take 'em," Beard said.
"Listen. Nobody's going anywhere, and attacking in the dead of night is madness. You'd only be drawing more out. I want everybody to get back in bed and try and get some sleep." Ryan was terse with his orders, but felt uncomfortable. Like I can order these guys to get to sleep, he thought. Hell, I probably won't even sleep myself. Still, I feel like the group needs to know somebody is in control of the situation, as it were.
As the group settled back into their sleeping positions, Ryan tried to push the doubt of his own leadership from his mind. They all talked nervously, ignoring the occasional moan that permeated the still night. Between the excitement, the noise, and the heat, it was a long while before voices started leaving the group chatter. Nobody had to be woken up at midnight for the changing of the guard.
---
Ryan felt a hand over this mouth and he flailed about momentarily, before Beard came into focus. Beard raised a finger to his mouth and extended his free hand, helping Ryan to his feet.
"You're up for third shift," Beard whispered. "Nothing to report."
"Good work," T.Rex replied. "See you in the morning." He saw Cowboy across the room tapping Kamikaze awake and he waved her to the back room.
The two crept back to the back right bedroom and closed the door before they spoke again.
"So, what exactly are we supposed to do on this night watch, anyway?" Kamikaze asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Well," he yawned. "We're mainly just making sure the others get a chance to rest. We watch for attacks, for any sign of danger, or any sign of help. Things like that."
She nodded, and they took up positions in folding chairs facing the window. Kamikaze refused to let the shift pass in silence, and Ryan was glad for the conversation, in part to make sure he stayed awake and alert.
Among Kamikaze's chief concerns was who might take care of the animals in the veterinary portion of campus if the people in charge were infected. Ryan was slightly ashamed to admit that he was less concerned about them than saving his own life.
As their shift ended, the sun began to rise and filter through the blinds. It became light enough that they broke out a pack of playing cards. They had a healthy game of gin rummy started, with Renee leading the series 3-2, before somebody tapped on the door.
The noise startled Ryan, and before he could recover Kamikaze said "c'mon in," softly.
The door slowly opened, and a groggy Beard shuffled in. "I really couldn't sleep much, and I don't think anybody else did," he reported.
"Fair enough," Ryan finally said. "I think we may have to work out a pair of codewords. I don't want to have to worry about a zombie with an uncannily human knock," he chuckled. "Kamikaze, I want you to get breakfast started, in a little bit. Beard, you make sure everybody is up and awake soon. I'd like to get a good start on the day, because there's still work to be done."
The apartment slowly stirred to life as each Fool either woke from the sun or the sounds of the others. Together they shared a sugary breakfast of Pop-Tarts and water, and to those who disliked the taste, it already seemed like the food options were unpleasant.
Post breakfast, Ryan divided the Fools equally to tackle the two biggest tasks left. Peace, Cowboy, and Beard went to work on the roof hatch while Angel Hair, Rubble, and Kamikaze set out to to finish the inventory list.
Ryan sat down with a notepad and began to compile a set of notes, mainly lists of things to do. Something felt wrong, and he could not figure out what. He mentally reviewed the Emergency Zed Plan, trying to think of something he'd missed, or a step that wasn't completed. He chewed on the end of his pen as he searched for the right detail.
All of the sudden, it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Current Word Count: 14,057
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Premature thoughts?
Hey readers.
I have been overwhelmed by your support. Most of you have commented on more than one chapter, and you've voted in the poll. You're helping me fix grammar and spelling, syntax, and pointing out flaws and such that I've missed. You've offered up suggestions, plot points, and been very encouraging.
That's just 13k in! I still have a long way to go (need to try and get to 20k by the end of the weekend). Just wanted to let you know I appreciate what you've given me so far, and I'm pretty determined to finish this on time and tell a decent story.
The hardest part so far is pacing myself. I don't want to finish early. I also have problems writing in third person when the main character is me. Also, I hate dialogue structure.
I heard somebody was so eager to read they printed off the chapter when they had to leave for class. ! That was awesome.
Steven and Brant (the ones in the story) are considering writing some alternate point-of-view fiction to go with this, and I'm pretty excited about it.
One last thing - I may be writing some chapters out of order sometime soon to add drama and words to the story. Please pay close attention to the chapter numbers to stay on top of it all.
I have been overwhelmed by your support. Most of you have commented on more than one chapter, and you've voted in the poll. You're helping me fix grammar and spelling, syntax, and pointing out flaws and such that I've missed. You've offered up suggestions, plot points, and been very encouraging.
That's just 13k in! I still have a long way to go (need to try and get to 20k by the end of the weekend). Just wanted to let you know I appreciate what you've given me so far, and I'm pretty determined to finish this on time and tell a decent story.
The hardest part so far is pacing myself. I don't want to finish early. I also have problems writing in third person when the main character is me. Also, I hate dialogue structure.
I heard somebody was so eager to read they printed off the chapter when they had to leave for class. ! That was awesome.
Steven and Brant (the ones in the story) are considering writing some alternate point-of-view fiction to go with this, and I'm pretty excited about it.
One last thing - I may be writing some chapters out of order sometime soon to add drama and words to the story. Please pay close attention to the chapter numbers to stay on top of it all.
Chapter 10 - Dirty Jobs
June 6th, 2008
3:25pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Ryan continued to delegate the many tasks at hand. "Kamikaze, I need you to fill every available container, including the sinks and bathtubs with water. Leave one out, actually, and mark it clearly as our toilet bucket in case the plumbing stops working. When you're done with that, go ahead and get to that rope ladder."
"Sure thing, cap'n," she replied got to work.
"Angel Hair and Rubble, your next job is to get me an inventory list of everything we have. I know this one sucks, but before we plan rations, I need to know how many Pop-Tarts we have. Before we can plan any sort of offense, I need to know what weapons and how many bullets we have. If it ends up taking forever, I'll either add somebody to the task or switch you guys out. Again, I'm not trying to sick you guys with the crap job, but I think you two know the supplies best, having hauled most of it yourself," he apologized.
They both nodded happily. "Don't worry so much, T. Rex," said Angel Hair. "It's really not that big of a deal."
"Yeah," Rubble added. "We know you're trying your best to be fair. I'd rather help out here than have to deal with the monsters out there by myself." They produced a pen and pad of paper and began with the nearest duffel.
Ryan nodded. "Thanks guys, that helps. I just don't want to be a dictator. Anyway, Peace and Cowboy, you keep working on that roof hatch. I know there's a bag of tools around here somewhere that you can use, but try not to do too much damage without thinking it through. Basically I'd suggest a lot of duct tape."
They retreated to the rear bedroom, leaving just T.Rex and Beard without duties.
"Okay, Beard. Next we gotta give everybody's phone the right message. Go ahead and power up your phone and access your voice mail," said T.Rex. As Beard did so, he continued. "Okay, now I need you to record something like this.
"You've reached Beard, and right now Fools are at Ryan's trying to survive the zombpocalypse. Survivors are currently Ryan, Renee, Andrew, Eric, John, Brant, and Steve as of June 6th. Phones are off to conserve power, so please leave a message and try the other Fools. We'll continue to check at regular intervals until the batteries are dead. Please notify the authorities and send help."
Beard nodded acknowledgment and walked to the back right bedroom to record. A minute later he emerged.
"Good," Ryan said. "Now I need you to go around and make sure everybody's phone is like that, including mine." He handed over his own phone. "My arm is killing me, so I'm gonna go take care of that." He grabbed a first aid kit from the pile of equipment in the living room and headed to the kitchen.
He walked around the corner and nearly tripped over one of the dozens of buckets and bowls on the floor filled with water. "Wow, Renee. Mind surrendering the sink for a bit and helping me with this arm wound real fast?"
"Of course not, you big dweeb. Come over here." She motioned him over and gingerly tried to untie the stained curtain around his arm. It wouldn't budge, so she pulled a pair of scissors from the kit and snipped the fabric away without hesitation. This caused the bleeding to resume, and Ryan looked away, slightly woozy.
She grabbed his free hand and clamped it over his arm near the elbow. "Hold this," she commanded. Looking away, Ryan held on tightly and tried to think of anything else.
Renee ran warm soapy water and washed the arm. There was a small bottle of iodine in the kit, and she poured a small amount onto a cotton ball. "This is gonna hurt," she warned before viciously scrubbing the cut up and down his forearm.
"Fuckbeans!! Jeez, that hurts!" he yelled, still refusing to look at his own arm.
"Everything okay in there, T.Rex?" Angel Hair shouted.
"Just FINE," he shouted back, as another cotton ball was swabbed.
Kamikaze finished the treatment by placing a long, sterile gauze over the wound and wrapping it tightly with medical tape from the first aid kit. "There, all done," she said, cheerily. He stood there, awkwardly.
"You can quit holding your arm now," she pointed out. Ryan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and slowly released the tension on his arm. He cautiously looked over at his left arm, as if a good stare would cause it to bleed again.
"Thanks, Renee. Want some help with the water?" he offered.
"No thanks, I think I got it." She continued filling buckets from the sink and stacking them in efficient overlapping piles in the kitchen, filling empty cupboards and the pantry first. She also emptied gallon containers of milk from the downstairs refrigerator and filled them with water as well.
Ryan gently nursed his arm as he checked on the other Fools at work. Cowboy and Peace had removed the closet doors and used the room to push in a dresser. This allowed them to reach the attic without a ladder and they'd marked out an approximate area to make the roof hatch. They kept having trouble with the heat inside, so Ryan asked them to take a water break before continuing.
Angel Hair and Rubble were quickly cataloging all the items. They'd quarantined the middle bedroom, and emptied it first. Only after listing an item did they move it back in, attempting to stack everything in an easily accessible and visible manner. Ryan was quite impressed.
Beard had completed the cell phone instructions, and together with T.Rex they began to work out duty and ration schedules. They figured with seven Fools, each night would have three night watch shifts of two people for three hours apiece, with a night off for the seventh person rotating amongst them. This would last from 9 pm to 6am, covering the darkest parts of the evening. Starting with an alphabetical list, the first two would take the first shift, second two the second shift, and third pair the final shift, and the odd Fool out had the night off. The next night, the list shifted one name down. This would ensure fairness, and a regular change of pace for all duties.
Thus the first night was Andrew and Brant from 9pm to midnight, Eric and John from midnight to 3am, Renee and Ryan from 3am to 6am, and Steve had the night off.
They would try for 3 liters of drinking water per day per person once the fresh water supply stopped. For now, the water wasn't a problem, but it remained to be seen how long their stores could last them. Beard and T.Rex also wouldn't restrict showers or the toilet as long as they worked, but showers were a low priority and they'd make deal with a bucket at some point. They decided the northwest corner of the house was the dumping point for trash and waste.
Water was plentiful (for now), but food had to be rationed immediately. This was especially important as Ryan's stomach started to growl. He'd not eaten at all that day and had been busy moving and thieving. The final inventory was still being tabulated, but T.Rex estimated that from what food he'd gathered and seen brought over, the seven of them would not last more than two weeks on minimum rations. Not to mention that they'd be sustaining themselves on mostly sugary packaged foods. He was slightly worried, but tried to remain optimistic. Hopefully they wouldn't need to hold out that long. Thoughts of food consumed all of his thoughts.
As the evening crept closer, Ryan pulled the Fools from their duties to share their first meal together as a band of survivors. Beard carefully doled out conservative portions of granola bars and fruit snacks, with glasses of water all around.
Nobody complained about the food, Ryan thought. This time.
As they stuffed the wrappers into a trash bag, T.Rex fetched a black case and gave a short lecture about rule number five.
"Guys, I can't stress this enough. If something should happen, a thing to keep in mind is rule five. That's ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair. That means keep your shoelaces tied, don't get sloppy, and pay attention to your appearance. I'd love to give you all armor and such, but even if we didn't worry about mobility, weight, and sound, we'd all die of heat in this weather. I think our best bet is to stay quiet, light, and nimble."
He had no indication so far that his friends were anything but loyal and willing to accept his leadership. Still, he was unsure of how the following days or even weeks would play out. He had doubts in his head about his own leadership skills, and felt the gesture he was about to make was leading by example. That it would help keep up the esprit de corps of the group, even if it wasn't in danger -yet.
T.Rex had Peace spread out a garbage bag onto the living room floor. Removing scissors and an electric razor from the black case, he let the Fools take turns shaving his head. They giggled as each one removed a stripe of curls from his head. The razor had a sufficient charge that they all took a turn shortening each other's hair. Beard kept his eponymous facial feature, and Kamikaze removed her hip-length ponytail almost entirely.
After they cleaned up the mess, it was time for bed. Together they placed five sleeping bags in a Tetris-esque arrangement on the living room floor. It was crowded, but they managed. As the rest of the Fools turned in and attempted to fall asleep, Peace and Rubble kept first watch. The roof hatch wasn't completed yet, so they set up shop in the back right bedroom.
As the excitement of the first day died down, and the last bit of chatter stopped, a brief moment of silence crept through the apartment before the night watch spoke up.
"Guys," Peace said nervously from the back room. "I can see dozens of them."
Current Word Count: 13,165
3:25pm
Upstairs Headquarters
Ryan continued to delegate the many tasks at hand. "Kamikaze, I need you to fill every available container, including the sinks and bathtubs with water. Leave one out, actually, and mark it clearly as our toilet bucket in case the plumbing stops working. When you're done with that, go ahead and get to that rope ladder."
"Sure thing, cap'n," she replied got to work.
"Angel Hair and Rubble, your next job is to get me an inventory list of everything we have. I know this one sucks, but before we plan rations, I need to know how many Pop-Tarts we have. Before we can plan any sort of offense, I need to know what weapons and how many bullets we have. If it ends up taking forever, I'll either add somebody to the task or switch you guys out. Again, I'm not trying to sick you guys with the crap job, but I think you two know the supplies best, having hauled most of it yourself," he apologized.
They both nodded happily. "Don't worry so much, T. Rex," said Angel Hair. "It's really not that big of a deal."
"Yeah," Rubble added. "We know you're trying your best to be fair. I'd rather help out here than have to deal with the monsters out there by myself." They produced a pen and pad of paper and began with the nearest duffel.
Ryan nodded. "Thanks guys, that helps. I just don't want to be a dictator. Anyway, Peace and Cowboy, you keep working on that roof hatch. I know there's a bag of tools around here somewhere that you can use, but try not to do too much damage without thinking it through. Basically I'd suggest a lot of duct tape."
They retreated to the rear bedroom, leaving just T.Rex and Beard without duties.
"Okay, Beard. Next we gotta give everybody's phone the right message. Go ahead and power up your phone and access your voice mail," said T.Rex. As Beard did so, he continued. "Okay, now I need you to record something like this.
"You've reached Beard, and right now Fools are at Ryan's trying to survive the zombpocalypse. Survivors are currently Ryan, Renee, Andrew, Eric, John, Brant, and Steve as of June 6th. Phones are off to conserve power, so please leave a message and try the other Fools. We'll continue to check at regular intervals until the batteries are dead. Please notify the authorities and send help."
Beard nodded acknowledgment and walked to the back right bedroom to record. A minute later he emerged.
"Good," Ryan said. "Now I need you to go around and make sure everybody's phone is like that, including mine." He handed over his own phone. "My arm is killing me, so I'm gonna go take care of that." He grabbed a first aid kit from the pile of equipment in the living room and headed to the kitchen.
He walked around the corner and nearly tripped over one of the dozens of buckets and bowls on the floor filled with water. "Wow, Renee. Mind surrendering the sink for a bit and helping me with this arm wound real fast?"
"Of course not, you big dweeb. Come over here." She motioned him over and gingerly tried to untie the stained curtain around his arm. It wouldn't budge, so she pulled a pair of scissors from the kit and snipped the fabric away without hesitation. This caused the bleeding to resume, and Ryan looked away, slightly woozy.
She grabbed his free hand and clamped it over his arm near the elbow. "Hold this," she commanded. Looking away, Ryan held on tightly and tried to think of anything else.
Renee ran warm soapy water and washed the arm. There was a small bottle of iodine in the kit, and she poured a small amount onto a cotton ball. "This is gonna hurt," she warned before viciously scrubbing the cut up and down his forearm.
"Fuckbeans!! Jeez, that hurts!" he yelled, still refusing to look at his own arm.
"Everything okay in there, T.Rex?" Angel Hair shouted.
"Just FINE," he shouted back, as another cotton ball was swabbed.
Kamikaze finished the treatment by placing a long, sterile gauze over the wound and wrapping it tightly with medical tape from the first aid kit. "There, all done," she said, cheerily. He stood there, awkwardly.
"You can quit holding your arm now," she pointed out. Ryan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and slowly released the tension on his arm. He cautiously looked over at his left arm, as if a good stare would cause it to bleed again.
"Thanks, Renee. Want some help with the water?" he offered.
"No thanks, I think I got it." She continued filling buckets from the sink and stacking them in efficient overlapping piles in the kitchen, filling empty cupboards and the pantry first. She also emptied gallon containers of milk from the downstairs refrigerator and filled them with water as well.
Ryan gently nursed his arm as he checked on the other Fools at work. Cowboy and Peace had removed the closet doors and used the room to push in a dresser. This allowed them to reach the attic without a ladder and they'd marked out an approximate area to make the roof hatch. They kept having trouble with the heat inside, so Ryan asked them to take a water break before continuing.
Angel Hair and Rubble were quickly cataloging all the items. They'd quarantined the middle bedroom, and emptied it first. Only after listing an item did they move it back in, attempting to stack everything in an easily accessible and visible manner. Ryan was quite impressed.
Beard had completed the cell phone instructions, and together with T.Rex they began to work out duty and ration schedules. They figured with seven Fools, each night would have three night watch shifts of two people for three hours apiece, with a night off for the seventh person rotating amongst them. This would last from 9 pm to 6am, covering the darkest parts of the evening. Starting with an alphabetical list, the first two would take the first shift, second two the second shift, and third pair the final shift, and the odd Fool out had the night off. The next night, the list shifted one name down. This would ensure fairness, and a regular change of pace for all duties.
Thus the first night was Andrew and Brant from 9pm to midnight, Eric and John from midnight to 3am, Renee and Ryan from 3am to 6am, and Steve had the night off.
They would try for 3 liters of drinking water per day per person once the fresh water supply stopped. For now, the water wasn't a problem, but it remained to be seen how long their stores could last them. Beard and T.Rex also wouldn't restrict showers or the toilet as long as they worked, but showers were a low priority and they'd make deal with a bucket at some point. They decided the northwest corner of the house was the dumping point for trash and waste.
Water was plentiful (for now), but food had to be rationed immediately. This was especially important as Ryan's stomach started to growl. He'd not eaten at all that day and had been busy moving and thieving. The final inventory was still being tabulated, but T.Rex estimated that from what food he'd gathered and seen brought over, the seven of them would not last more than two weeks on minimum rations. Not to mention that they'd be sustaining themselves on mostly sugary packaged foods. He was slightly worried, but tried to remain optimistic. Hopefully they wouldn't need to hold out that long. Thoughts of food consumed all of his thoughts.
As the evening crept closer, Ryan pulled the Fools from their duties to share their first meal together as a band of survivors. Beard carefully doled out conservative portions of granola bars and fruit snacks, with glasses of water all around.
Nobody complained about the food, Ryan thought. This time.
As they stuffed the wrappers into a trash bag, T.Rex fetched a black case and gave a short lecture about rule number five.
"Guys, I can't stress this enough. If something should happen, a thing to keep in mind is rule five. That's ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair. That means keep your shoelaces tied, don't get sloppy, and pay attention to your appearance. I'd love to give you all armor and such, but even if we didn't worry about mobility, weight, and sound, we'd all die of heat in this weather. I think our best bet is to stay quiet, light, and nimble."
He had no indication so far that his friends were anything but loyal and willing to accept his leadership. Still, he was unsure of how the following days or even weeks would play out. He had doubts in his head about his own leadership skills, and felt the gesture he was about to make was leading by example. That it would help keep up the esprit de corps of the group, even if it wasn't in danger -yet.
T.Rex had Peace spread out a garbage bag onto the living room floor. Removing scissors and an electric razor from the black case, he let the Fools take turns shaving his head. They giggled as each one removed a stripe of curls from his head. The razor had a sufficient charge that they all took a turn shortening each other's hair. Beard kept his eponymous facial feature, and Kamikaze removed her hip-length ponytail almost entirely.
After they cleaned up the mess, it was time for bed. Together they placed five sleeping bags in a Tetris-esque arrangement on the living room floor. It was crowded, but they managed. As the rest of the Fools turned in and attempted to fall asleep, Peace and Rubble kept first watch. The roof hatch wasn't completed yet, so they set up shop in the back right bedroom.
As the excitement of the first day died down, and the last bit of chatter stopped, a brief moment of silence crept through the apartment before the night watch spoke up.
"Guys," Peace said nervously from the back room. "I can see dozens of them."
Current Word Count: 13,165
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Chapter 9 - House Rules
June 6th, 2008
1:08pm
Upstairs Apartment
Peace was literally bouncing up and down with excitement.
"I take it you got in okay?" Ryan said, calmly.
"Yeah! I was all like-" Peace wiggled his hands as he spoke, miming picking a lock. "Then the lock was all like- bam," he twisted his fingers violently and made a grinding noise, followed by a teeth-clicking snap. He grinned proudly.
"Well done, Peace," Ryan patted him on the shoulder. "Now let's go see what you've discovered. Cowboy, follow me. We're through in here and I've got your next job."
T.Rex, Cowboy, and Peace exited the kitchen and walked through the living room. They each grabbed an armful of supplies to help Rubble and Angel Hair as they made their way out the door. As they stepped into the harsh humid air, they saw Kamikaze hard at work destroying the stairs.
She stood up at the sound of the door opening and leaned on the stair rails. "Howdy there, Captain. I'm taking out every other plank for now so the stairs are still somewhat usable. I also think we should make a rope ladder, as a backup that can be moved around as needed."
"Excellent," Ryan said. "When we get some downtime, I want you to make it happen."
She helped the three of them upstairs with their supplies, and they piled everything in the middle bedroom (above Ryan's room). Peace excitedly hurried them through the desolate, echoing apartment to the rear bedroom. The only items that remained in the upstairs apartment was furniture owned by the rental company, including a few mattresses and dressers, and kitchen appliances.
The back left bedroom was nondescript. Peace led them in and opened the second closet door, and pointed up as Cowboy and T.Rex looked on in confusion.
"There!" Peace exclaimed. "I found a way to get into the attic."
T.Rex stepped forward and leaned into the closet. Inside, on the ceiling, was a panel that rested on a frame.
"Most excellent. Can you two give me a boost up there and I'll have a look around, Lion King style?" Ryan grinned.
Peace and Cowboy crouched to let T.Rex climb onto their shoulders. They slowly raised him up and shuffled single file into the closet, making sure he ducked to clear the frame. Once inside, he gingerly pushed the panel up and slid it into the attic space. They heaved on a count of three, and Ryan found purchase on the lip of the frame. He pulled himself up as the other two pushed his legs upward, and his waist cleared the rim. Flopping forward onto his stomach, he scrambled forward until he was clear.
"Somebody get me a flashlight up here, will ya?" Ryan shouted down below. He crouched and waited a few minutes before Peace ran over and Cowboy relayed one up. T.Rex clicked on the flashlight and peered slowly around. The attic space wasn't luxurious, but a short person such as himself only needed to bend slightly to walk around anywhere but the tallest point. He walked to the end and back before the dust and stifling heat were too much to bear. Standing near the rim of access, he made sure it was clear in the closet before hopping down.
Back on the floor once more, he tapped Peace on the chest with the flashlight. "You and Cowboy have to figure out how to get up there reliably. Once you've got that down, find a way to punch through the ceiling."
"Wait just a second," Cowboy interrupted. "You want us to make a hole in the roof?" he moved his hands as he spoke, one passing by the other as if launching a missile.
"Well, don't start until you can figure out a way to keep the elements out, at least mostly. But yeah, we're gonna need roof access before long," Ryan said a matter of factly. "If/when it rains, we'll collect fresh rainwater, we can see further in every direction for recon, gives us chances for signaling, and it will give us a vantage point for sniper attacks if we can spare the ammunition. Plus, it's a backup escape route. Just make sure it's facing the west side of the house."
Peace and Cowboy stared blankly at each other as T.Rex walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, not quite sure of what to make of the last set of orders. Ryan walked briskly to the other end of the apartment, out the door, and leaned over the stairway railing.
"Almost finished down there, guys?" he shouted down to the Fools working below.
"Just a few more trips, T.Rex," Rubble noted from the downstairs living room.
"Let's finish up here, then," said Ryan. "Renee, go ahead and remove the rest of the stairs - we'll use the ladder from now on." She nodded affirmative and quickly dismantled the rest of the slats, joining Rubble and Angel Hair hauling the equipment up the ladder.
"Anybody heard back from Beard, yet?" Ryan shouted to the crew.
As if on cue, the bearded, mud-caked sentry emerged from the bushes nearby. "Survey complete, T.Rex. I'm headed up now."
"Alrighty, let's close it up," Ryan said loud enough for everybody to hear. "Everybody in the living room in 10 minutes."
The last of the supplies were moved up, the stairway was rendered useless, and everybody moved upstairs. Ryan made one last head count - Kamikaze, Peace & Beard, Rubble & Angel Hair, Cowboy, and himself, before pulling up the ladder. He closed and locked the door and made sure all the windows were shut, locked, and had blinds down and closed.
The Fools trickled into the living room and took up positions on the floor in a semicircle.
"Okay, everybody," Ryan began. "Let's lay out some rules. First off, we're gonna stick with the buddy system. I don't want anybody to leave the apartment without somebody to watch your back." He looked at Beard and amended "Beard here has the exception. He's got extensive fieldcraft expertise, and he'll be acting as our freelance scout, so he may be going solo from time to time.
"That brings me to my next point. Nobody should be leaving. I don't want to risk leaving this safe haven unless it is absolutely necessary. Reasons for that include," he ticked off his fingers as he continued "if we decide as a group that there's a better place to go, we run out of supplies or need information, there's a greater danger such as fire, or a legitimate authority has the area secure."
Beard raised a hand. "I'd like to emphasize rule number 9 - no place is safe, only safer. Our master plan dictates that we stay here for now since it's our best bet, but it is by no means impregnable or foolproof. Heh, Fools. Anyway, stay sharp and we won't have any problems."
Ryan nodded in agreement. "Good point. Anyway, if for some reason somebody does need to leave, make sure you tell another Fool. I don't want anybody unaccounted for, and I especially don't want to play guessing games. Well, unless it's improv, but that's another story.
"So, until further notice, we're under house arrest. I also am asking you all to practice sound discipline. That means everybody keep your voice low, and any electronics should be muted or blanketed. Nobody should be shouting or screaming unless there's an emergency, and if the power should come back, we run appliances sparingly when absolutely needed. I don't want to attract attention to this apartment from the living dead, or any survivors that think we might be an easy target to be taken advantage of.
"Similarly, no lights between dusk and dawn. Zombies have excellent low light vision, and any source of light could attract them. Or, once again, people can be drawn to the lights and I'd like to avoid that if we can," he said as a warning.
Peace grinned. "It's like we're in London during WWII and the Luftwaffe is conducting night raids!"
Ryan couldn't resist a chuckle. "Good thought, Peace. I've got some more things you're not gonna love, so thinking of it as a game or a scene can help with morale. Beard and I will work up duty schedules in a bit. That includes pretty stringent food and water rationing, weapons and tactical training, and a rotating sets of night watch responsibilities.
"Oh, speaking of, everybody turn off your phones, right now. Power is something we'll ration as well, and we will check for messages at regular intervals." All of the Fools scrambled for their pockets and a small symphony of beeps followed.
"Okay, Fools. I've got more jobs that need to be taken care of before nighttime, I just wanted to spell out the basics before we got any further."
Ryan ran his hands through his hair with a hint of exhaustion. "Tonight, we take care of rule number 5."
Current Word Count: 11,433
1:08pm
Upstairs Apartment
Peace was literally bouncing up and down with excitement.
"I take it you got in okay?" Ryan said, calmly.
"Yeah! I was all like-" Peace wiggled his hands as he spoke, miming picking a lock. "Then the lock was all like- bam," he twisted his fingers violently and made a grinding noise, followed by a teeth-clicking snap. He grinned proudly.
"Well done, Peace," Ryan patted him on the shoulder. "Now let's go see what you've discovered. Cowboy, follow me. We're through in here and I've got your next job."
T.Rex, Cowboy, and Peace exited the kitchen and walked through the living room. They each grabbed an armful of supplies to help Rubble and Angel Hair as they made their way out the door. As they stepped into the harsh humid air, they saw Kamikaze hard at work destroying the stairs.
She stood up at the sound of the door opening and leaned on the stair rails. "Howdy there, Captain. I'm taking out every other plank for now so the stairs are still somewhat usable. I also think we should make a rope ladder, as a backup that can be moved around as needed."
"Excellent," Ryan said. "When we get some downtime, I want you to make it happen."
She helped the three of them upstairs with their supplies, and they piled everything in the middle bedroom (above Ryan's room). Peace excitedly hurried them through the desolate, echoing apartment to the rear bedroom. The only items that remained in the upstairs apartment was furniture owned by the rental company, including a few mattresses and dressers, and kitchen appliances.
The back left bedroom was nondescript. Peace led them in and opened the second closet door, and pointed up as Cowboy and T.Rex looked on in confusion.
"There!" Peace exclaimed. "I found a way to get into the attic."
T.Rex stepped forward and leaned into the closet. Inside, on the ceiling, was a panel that rested on a frame.
"Most excellent. Can you two give me a boost up there and I'll have a look around, Lion King style?" Ryan grinned.
Peace and Cowboy crouched to let T.Rex climb onto their shoulders. They slowly raised him up and shuffled single file into the closet, making sure he ducked to clear the frame. Once inside, he gingerly pushed the panel up and slid it into the attic space. They heaved on a count of three, and Ryan found purchase on the lip of the frame. He pulled himself up as the other two pushed his legs upward, and his waist cleared the rim. Flopping forward onto his stomach, he scrambled forward until he was clear.
"Somebody get me a flashlight up here, will ya?" Ryan shouted down below. He crouched and waited a few minutes before Peace ran over and Cowboy relayed one up. T.Rex clicked on the flashlight and peered slowly around. The attic space wasn't luxurious, but a short person such as himself only needed to bend slightly to walk around anywhere but the tallest point. He walked to the end and back before the dust and stifling heat were too much to bear. Standing near the rim of access, he made sure it was clear in the closet before hopping down.
Back on the floor once more, he tapped Peace on the chest with the flashlight. "You and Cowboy have to figure out how to get up there reliably. Once you've got that down, find a way to punch through the ceiling."
"Wait just a second," Cowboy interrupted. "You want us to make a hole in the roof?" he moved his hands as he spoke, one passing by the other as if launching a missile.
"Well, don't start until you can figure out a way to keep the elements out, at least mostly. But yeah, we're gonna need roof access before long," Ryan said a matter of factly. "If/when it rains, we'll collect fresh rainwater, we can see further in every direction for recon, gives us chances for signaling, and it will give us a vantage point for sniper attacks if we can spare the ammunition. Plus, it's a backup escape route. Just make sure it's facing the west side of the house."
Peace and Cowboy stared blankly at each other as T.Rex walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, not quite sure of what to make of the last set of orders. Ryan walked briskly to the other end of the apartment, out the door, and leaned over the stairway railing.
"Almost finished down there, guys?" he shouted down to the Fools working below.
"Just a few more trips, T.Rex," Rubble noted from the downstairs living room.
"Let's finish up here, then," said Ryan. "Renee, go ahead and remove the rest of the stairs - we'll use the ladder from now on." She nodded affirmative and quickly dismantled the rest of the slats, joining Rubble and Angel Hair hauling the equipment up the ladder.
"Anybody heard back from Beard, yet?" Ryan shouted to the crew.
As if on cue, the bearded, mud-caked sentry emerged from the bushes nearby. "Survey complete, T.Rex. I'm headed up now."
"Alrighty, let's close it up," Ryan said loud enough for everybody to hear. "Everybody in the living room in 10 minutes."
The last of the supplies were moved up, the stairway was rendered useless, and everybody moved upstairs. Ryan made one last head count - Kamikaze, Peace & Beard, Rubble & Angel Hair, Cowboy, and himself, before pulling up the ladder. He closed and locked the door and made sure all the windows were shut, locked, and had blinds down and closed.
The Fools trickled into the living room and took up positions on the floor in a semicircle.
"Okay, everybody," Ryan began. "Let's lay out some rules. First off, we're gonna stick with the buddy system. I don't want anybody to leave the apartment without somebody to watch your back." He looked at Beard and amended "Beard here has the exception. He's got extensive fieldcraft expertise, and he'll be acting as our freelance scout, so he may be going solo from time to time.
"That brings me to my next point. Nobody should be leaving. I don't want to risk leaving this safe haven unless it is absolutely necessary. Reasons for that include," he ticked off his fingers as he continued "if we decide as a group that there's a better place to go, we run out of supplies or need information, there's a greater danger such as fire, or a legitimate authority has the area secure."
Beard raised a hand. "I'd like to emphasize rule number 9 - no place is safe, only safer. Our master plan dictates that we stay here for now since it's our best bet, but it is by no means impregnable or foolproof. Heh, Fools. Anyway, stay sharp and we won't have any problems."
Ryan nodded in agreement. "Good point. Anyway, if for some reason somebody does need to leave, make sure you tell another Fool. I don't want anybody unaccounted for, and I especially don't want to play guessing games. Well, unless it's improv, but that's another story.
"So, until further notice, we're under house arrest. I also am asking you all to practice sound discipline. That means everybody keep your voice low, and any electronics should be muted or blanketed. Nobody should be shouting or screaming unless there's an emergency, and if the power should come back, we run appliances sparingly when absolutely needed. I don't want to attract attention to this apartment from the living dead, or any survivors that think we might be an easy target to be taken advantage of.
"Similarly, no lights between dusk and dawn. Zombies have excellent low light vision, and any source of light could attract them. Or, once again, people can be drawn to the lights and I'd like to avoid that if we can," he said as a warning.
Peace grinned. "It's like we're in London during WWII and the Luftwaffe is conducting night raids!"
Ryan couldn't resist a chuckle. "Good thought, Peace. I've got some more things you're not gonna love, so thinking of it as a game or a scene can help with morale. Beard and I will work up duty schedules in a bit. That includes pretty stringent food and water rationing, weapons and tactical training, and a rotating sets of night watch responsibilities.
"Oh, speaking of, everybody turn off your phones, right now. Power is something we'll ration as well, and we will check for messages at regular intervals." All of the Fools scrambled for their pockets and a small symphony of beeps followed.
"Okay, Fools. I've got more jobs that need to be taken care of before nighttime, I just wanted to spell out the basics before we got any further."
Ryan ran his hands through his hair with a hint of exhaustion. "Tonight, we take care of rule number 5."
Current Word Count: 11,433
Chapter 8 - Preparations Begin
June 6th, 2008
12:22pm
Ryan's Apartment
Ryan had just finished his speech, and nobody moved. He glanced slowly around the room, making eye contact with each Fool in turn, and met a grim and determined face from nearly all of them.
He continued. "Alright then, excellent. I'll give you more information later, but for now, your assignments. Peace, how are your lock picking skills these days?"
Peace replied smartly as he stood up. "Sharp as tacks, sir."
"Excellent. Rule number six. I want you to go outside, upstairs, and get us into the apartment above us." Peace nodded and rummaged through is bookbag before bolting out the door.
"Wait," Cowboy spoke up. "Rule six?"
Beard filled in the information as he drew a weathered book from his duffel. "Rule number six from the Zombie Survival Guide - Get up the staircase, then destroy it."
"Bingo," Ryan confirmed. "We'll have a much better chance of survival once we can get into the apartment above us. That'll be our base of operations from here on out. Kamikaze?"
"Yes, Captain!" she saluted with her response.
"You're on staircase duty. I'll help you find some tools, and then I want you to start dismantling the staircase to the apartment above. I've got a ladder, so that'll be our access once the stairs are gone. That'll keep most things at bay. Try and save what wood you can, we may need it later for cooking if the power doesn't come back." She raised her hand.
"Yes, Kamikaze?"
"What about your arm?"
"Oh. Oh this?" He raised his arm with the red stained bandage. "This is nothing. We'll worry about this later."
She walked over. "We'll worry about this as soon as we are upstairs, okay? I want to make sure we clean and bandage it properly."
Kamikaze checked his bandage briefly before heading outside. Ryan took a moment to regain his thoughts, caught off guard by how adamant she was.
"Beard. Go ahead and move to Phase Three of the Emergency Zed Plan, as you see fit. Snowsuit up, buddy." Beard nodded, slung a bag over his shoulder, and headed out the door.
Rubble looked hesitant. "If there's zombies about, should we be worried about being outside, undefended?" he asked, nervously.
Ryan grinned. "Got it under control. Phase Three is to secure the perimeter. Beard is on scout patrol while we're putting things in order. He'll be roaming the nearby area looking for defensible positions, choke points, and any stragglers that may wander by."
Rubble nodded. "Nicely done."
"That's why we have the Plan. Rubble and Angel Hair, you two are porters. I set things in a pile in the living room, you two make it go upstairs by stairway and then ladder. Got it?"
They groaned in unison. Ryan shrugged, unapologetic. "Sorry guys, there's gonna be a lot of stuff, and some of it can get kinda heavy. I'm counting on you two working together to get it done. Think of it as your hazing." High fives exchanged hands as they set to work gathering up supplies.
Everybody had left to work on their individual assignments except Cowboy, who sat looking at Ryan expectantly. "Just us, right T.Rex?" he asked, excited. "Betcha you've got a special job lined up just for us Billy Badasses."
Ryan looked at his feet before responding. "Well buddy, you and I have the very important job of gathering useful supplies from this downstairs apartment and piling them in the living room for Rubble and Angel Hair to move."
"Weaksauce," Cowboy replied.
They set out scouring the apartment for anything they thought might be useful against what Ryan hoped would be a short siege. They found more batteries, rope, matches, and made sure to grab Ryan's Mag-Lite flashlight.
"Just make sure you don't get anything too heavy, or that needs power, Cowboy, because we can't be sure the power will come back in time." Ryan warned, as they piled a long torchiere in the living room.
"Wait, how long is 'in time', exactly?" Cowboy asked, seeming worried.
"Couldn't say for sure. I hope no more than a day or two, but I can't even get a hold of the Purdue Police," Ryan admitted. "Power is out, and I found evidence of several attacks all on my own. I have no way of knowing for sure how far it may have spread without my computer. The best we can do is prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. I'm guessing that we can hole up upstairs and stay low for a few days before the authorities get their heads out of their asses, and put together a plan to clear out the campus. Unless something gets out of control, we don't have to resort to a Redeker strategy."
"Ryan, what the hell is a Redeker strategy? Is that gonna go on my inappropriate references counter?" Cowboy seemed almost annoyed and held out his hands as a warning.
"Sorry. It's from the Zombie Survival Guide again. I'll go over more of the details when we get settled upstairs."
"I hope that's soon, because it's really freakin' hot in here."
"I know, Cowboy. I know."
Together they gathered some low tech entertainment - playing cards, a few books and a board game. Alex's room had some candles that Stephanie had given him, and those were confiscated towards the war effort. Almost all of the electronics were left behind, but not before being emptied of batteries. Ryan grabbed his cell phone charger in case they ever got power back. They took the ski poles from under Ryan's bed, bleach, toilet paper, and soap from the bathroom, and every inch of duct tape they could find. They grabbed any clean towels and Ryan's personal grooming kit.
"Are you really worried about growing some stubble?" Cowboy joked, as they ransacked the bathroom.
"Rule number five." Ryan replied, before remembering not everybody had memorized the list. "Ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair."
"You mean you're gonna cut your hair?" Cowboy asked, incredulous.
"It's gone as soon as we get some time tonight." Ryan replied, brushing the curls from his forehead.
A first aid kit from the linen closet and two sleeping bags joined the pile of goods being transported upstairs before Cowboy and T.Rex moved to the kitchen. They piled any non-perishable food into trash bags, leaving the cabinets bare. As Ryan wrapped the steak knife set in a hand towel, he wondered how long they might last with the food at hand, especially without power.
The food in the refrigerator had been without power for a few hours, and it was uncertain when it might come back. They opened the fridge door and quickly emptied it of anything that could be taken upstairs without worry of spoilage - including cans of soda.
Just then, Peace ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. "T.Rex!" he shouted. "You gotta come see this."
Current Word Count: 9,928
12:22pm
Ryan's Apartment
Ryan had just finished his speech, and nobody moved. He glanced slowly around the room, making eye contact with each Fool in turn, and met a grim and determined face from nearly all of them.
He continued. "Alright then, excellent. I'll give you more information later, but for now, your assignments. Peace, how are your lock picking skills these days?"
Peace replied smartly as he stood up. "Sharp as tacks, sir."
"Excellent. Rule number six. I want you to go outside, upstairs, and get us into the apartment above us." Peace nodded and rummaged through is bookbag before bolting out the door.
"Wait," Cowboy spoke up. "Rule six?"
Beard filled in the information as he drew a weathered book from his duffel. "Rule number six from the Zombie Survival Guide - Get up the staircase, then destroy it."
"Bingo," Ryan confirmed. "We'll have a much better chance of survival once we can get into the apartment above us. That'll be our base of operations from here on out. Kamikaze?"
"Yes, Captain!" she saluted with her response.
"You're on staircase duty. I'll help you find some tools, and then I want you to start dismantling the staircase to the apartment above. I've got a ladder, so that'll be our access once the stairs are gone. That'll keep most things at bay. Try and save what wood you can, we may need it later for cooking if the power doesn't come back." She raised her hand.
"Yes, Kamikaze?"
"What about your arm?"
"Oh. Oh this?" He raised his arm with the red stained bandage. "This is nothing. We'll worry about this later."
She walked over. "We'll worry about this as soon as we are upstairs, okay? I want to make sure we clean and bandage it properly."
Kamikaze checked his bandage briefly before heading outside. Ryan took a moment to regain his thoughts, caught off guard by how adamant she was.
"Beard. Go ahead and move to Phase Three of the Emergency Zed Plan, as you see fit. Snowsuit up, buddy." Beard nodded, slung a bag over his shoulder, and headed out the door.
Rubble looked hesitant. "If there's zombies about, should we be worried about being outside, undefended?" he asked, nervously.
Ryan grinned. "Got it under control. Phase Three is to secure the perimeter. Beard is on scout patrol while we're putting things in order. He'll be roaming the nearby area looking for defensible positions, choke points, and any stragglers that may wander by."
Rubble nodded. "Nicely done."
"That's why we have the Plan. Rubble and Angel Hair, you two are porters. I set things in a pile in the living room, you two make it go upstairs by stairway and then ladder. Got it?"
They groaned in unison. Ryan shrugged, unapologetic. "Sorry guys, there's gonna be a lot of stuff, and some of it can get kinda heavy. I'm counting on you two working together to get it done. Think of it as your hazing." High fives exchanged hands as they set to work gathering up supplies.
Everybody had left to work on their individual assignments except Cowboy, who sat looking at Ryan expectantly. "Just us, right T.Rex?" he asked, excited. "Betcha you've got a special job lined up just for us Billy Badasses."
Ryan looked at his feet before responding. "Well buddy, you and I have the very important job of gathering useful supplies from this downstairs apartment and piling them in the living room for Rubble and Angel Hair to move."
"Weaksauce," Cowboy replied.
They set out scouring the apartment for anything they thought might be useful against what Ryan hoped would be a short siege. They found more batteries, rope, matches, and made sure to grab Ryan's Mag-Lite flashlight.
"Just make sure you don't get anything too heavy, or that needs power, Cowboy, because we can't be sure the power will come back in time." Ryan warned, as they piled a long torchiere in the living room.
"Wait, how long is 'in time', exactly?" Cowboy asked, seeming worried.
"Couldn't say for sure. I hope no more than a day or two, but I can't even get a hold of the Purdue Police," Ryan admitted. "Power is out, and I found evidence of several attacks all on my own. I have no way of knowing for sure how far it may have spread without my computer. The best we can do is prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. I'm guessing that we can hole up upstairs and stay low for a few days before the authorities get their heads out of their asses, and put together a plan to clear out the campus. Unless something gets out of control, we don't have to resort to a Redeker strategy."
"Ryan, what the hell is a Redeker strategy? Is that gonna go on my inappropriate references counter?" Cowboy seemed almost annoyed and held out his hands as a warning.
"Sorry. It's from the Zombie Survival Guide again. I'll go over more of the details when we get settled upstairs."
"I hope that's soon, because it's really freakin' hot in here."
"I know, Cowboy. I know."
Together they gathered some low tech entertainment - playing cards, a few books and a board game. Alex's room had some candles that Stephanie had given him, and those were confiscated towards the war effort. Almost all of the electronics were left behind, but not before being emptied of batteries. Ryan grabbed his cell phone charger in case they ever got power back. They took the ski poles from under Ryan's bed, bleach, toilet paper, and soap from the bathroom, and every inch of duct tape they could find. They grabbed any clean towels and Ryan's personal grooming kit.
"Are you really worried about growing some stubble?" Cowboy joked, as they ransacked the bathroom.
"Rule number five." Ryan replied, before remembering not everybody had memorized the list. "Ideal protection is tight clothes and short hair."
"You mean you're gonna cut your hair?" Cowboy asked, incredulous.
"It's gone as soon as we get some time tonight." Ryan replied, brushing the curls from his forehead.
A first aid kit from the linen closet and two sleeping bags joined the pile of goods being transported upstairs before Cowboy and T.Rex moved to the kitchen. They piled any non-perishable food into trash bags, leaving the cabinets bare. As Ryan wrapped the steak knife set in a hand towel, he wondered how long they might last with the food at hand, especially without power.
The food in the refrigerator had been without power for a few hours, and it was uncertain when it might come back. They opened the fridge door and quickly emptied it of anything that could be taken upstairs without worry of spoilage - including cans of soda.
Just then, Peace ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. "T.Rex!" he shouted. "You gotta come see this."
Current Word Count: 9,928
Chapter 7 - Prevention
June 6th, 2008
11:48am
Ryan's Neighbor's Apartment
"What isss it?" the second voice asked, with greater difficulty. There was a pause.
Ryan's pulse was pounding in his head. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and waited.
The first voice spoke, confused. "Oh, I just got a weird text message from my girlfriend. Apparently she wants me to 'come and protect her'?" Ryan noticed a micro-pause around the words that seemed to fit air-quotes. "Better not be that ex-boyfriend of hers snooping around. I gotta go."
Trapped under the bed, Ryan nervously opened one eye to see the only visible shoes turn and exit the room. He slowly let out his breath as quietly as possible. He heard the distinctive noise of feet shuffling down a flight of stairs, and the door opening and slamming shut. Ryan waited nervously for a few moments, silently thanking the universe for giving him a pass on the past 10 minutes.
The body above him no longer made any noise. Gingerly pushing the plastic case ahead of him, Ryan army-crawled his way out from under the bed, wincing every time he put his weight on his left forearm. Once out from under the bed, he stood up and dusted himself off. He surveyed the man laying on the bed in front of him.
I really, really hope this man is not on his way to becoming a zed, Ryan thought grimly, though he was fairly certain what was about to happen to this man. He decided it was worth the risk to find out more. Setting the case down, he picked up the baseball bat and used it to move aside the cover.
The man's arm had two distinct sets of teeth marks on his right arm, and several scratches on his neck and face. Ryan shuddered involuntarily. He noticed the man was breathing very slowly, and very shallow at that. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and heaved, so the man rolled onto his side.
That'll help in case he get sick, thought Ryan, but I can't just leave him here. What if he's on his way out, ready to come back a zed next door from my apartment? He quickly scanned the room. The desk drawers had nothing of use. He was about to give up and leave before he decided to check the nightstand drawer.
Inside there were several condoms, a Playboy, and a pair of handcuffs. Kinky, Ryan thought. He grabbed the handcuffs and very delicately clicked one of the silver bands around the man's ankle and anchored the other to the bed frame. If he wakes up, he'll think it was his roommate pulling a prank. If he dies and reanimates, well, then at least his roommates might have a chance.
Ryan stood at the foot of the bed for several moments, gripping the bat tightly in his hand. He wondered if it was right, to pre-emptively stop what he was fairly certain was a zombie waiting to happen. What if he was wrong? He'd be condemning an innocent man a violent and blunt death - tethered to the bed, no less - on circumstantial evidence.
I can't do it, he admitted to himself. He grabbed the rifle case and carried the bat into the hallway, shutting the door behind him somberly. As he carried the items downstairs to his pile of supplies, he hoped he'd done the right thing.
Grimly, he took a few trips walking the items across the walkway to his own apartment. The last things he took from the neighbor's house before leaving were a crowbar, shovel, and ladder, all found in the garage.
He set about collecting some items in his own house, similar to the raid just conducted the next house over. A few minutes later there was a loud knock at the door. Ryan grabbed the crowbar, and crept to his own door. He went up on his tiptoes and peered through the peephole.
Outside the doors stood the Fools. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, unlocked the door, and ushered in Beard, Peace, Angel Hair, Rubble, Cowboy, and Kamikaze. They all carried bookbags, duffel bags, and other luggage.
"Have a seat, guys, I've got a few things to talk about." Ryan explained as they filed in. The Fools found spots in the living room amongst stuffed trash bags and piles of weapons. He grabbed Beard by the sleeve and pulled him aside near the doorway.
"It's worse than I thought." Ryan whispered.
Beard frowned. "How bad?"
"I'm pretty sure we're already at a Class 2 outbreak, but I've not heard much from the outside. It could be even worse."
"Well I got here as fast as I could, with what I could."
"I know, I know. You did a great job. Any problems with the plan so far?"
"None."
"Great. I'll take over from here." Beard sat down next to Peace and waited for Ryan to speak.
Ryan cleared his throat.
"Fools, I'm going to make this short and sweet. I'm not sure what Beard has already told you, but I have strong reason to believe that right here at Purdue, right now as we speak, we may be in great danger. I'm gonna do my best to turn this apartment into a fortress and defend this patch of land against the living dead, and if it comes to it, the threat of the zombpocalypse itself.
I know it's a lot to take in. Sacrifices must be made, and the coming days and possibly more are gonna get a lot worse before they get better. You're welcome to stay and help, and I hope that you do. If you stay, I'm in command and we follow the Emergency Zed Plan. If that doesn't work for you, now's the time to leave."
Current Word Count: 8,763
11:48am
Ryan's Neighbor's Apartment
"What isss it?" the second voice asked, with greater difficulty. There was a pause.
Ryan's pulse was pounding in his head. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and waited.
The first voice spoke, confused. "Oh, I just got a weird text message from my girlfriend. Apparently she wants me to 'come and protect her'?" Ryan noticed a micro-pause around the words that seemed to fit air-quotes. "Better not be that ex-boyfriend of hers snooping around. I gotta go."
Trapped under the bed, Ryan nervously opened one eye to see the only visible shoes turn and exit the room. He slowly let out his breath as quietly as possible. He heard the distinctive noise of feet shuffling down a flight of stairs, and the door opening and slamming shut. Ryan waited nervously for a few moments, silently thanking the universe for giving him a pass on the past 10 minutes.
The body above him no longer made any noise. Gingerly pushing the plastic case ahead of him, Ryan army-crawled his way out from under the bed, wincing every time he put his weight on his left forearm. Once out from under the bed, he stood up and dusted himself off. He surveyed the man laying on the bed in front of him.
I really, really hope this man is not on his way to becoming a zed, Ryan thought grimly, though he was fairly certain what was about to happen to this man. He decided it was worth the risk to find out more. Setting the case down, he picked up the baseball bat and used it to move aside the cover.
The man's arm had two distinct sets of teeth marks on his right arm, and several scratches on his neck and face. Ryan shuddered involuntarily. He noticed the man was breathing very slowly, and very shallow at that. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and heaved, so the man rolled onto his side.
That'll help in case he get sick, thought Ryan, but I can't just leave him here. What if he's on his way out, ready to come back a zed next door from my apartment? He quickly scanned the room. The desk drawers had nothing of use. He was about to give up and leave before he decided to check the nightstand drawer.
Inside there were several condoms, a Playboy, and a pair of handcuffs. Kinky, Ryan thought. He grabbed the handcuffs and very delicately clicked one of the silver bands around the man's ankle and anchored the other to the bed frame. If he wakes up, he'll think it was his roommate pulling a prank. If he dies and reanimates, well, then at least his roommates might have a chance.
Ryan stood at the foot of the bed for several moments, gripping the bat tightly in his hand. He wondered if it was right, to pre-emptively stop what he was fairly certain was a zombie waiting to happen. What if he was wrong? He'd be condemning an innocent man a violent and blunt death - tethered to the bed, no less - on circumstantial evidence.
I can't do it, he admitted to himself. He grabbed the rifle case and carried the bat into the hallway, shutting the door behind him somberly. As he carried the items downstairs to his pile of supplies, he hoped he'd done the right thing.
Grimly, he took a few trips walking the items across the walkway to his own apartment. The last things he took from the neighbor's house before leaving were a crowbar, shovel, and ladder, all found in the garage.
He set about collecting some items in his own house, similar to the raid just conducted the next house over. A few minutes later there was a loud knock at the door. Ryan grabbed the crowbar, and crept to his own door. He went up on his tiptoes and peered through the peephole.
Outside the doors stood the Fools. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, unlocked the door, and ushered in Beard, Peace, Angel Hair, Rubble, Cowboy, and Kamikaze. They all carried bookbags, duffel bags, and other luggage.
"Have a seat, guys, I've got a few things to talk about." Ryan explained as they filed in. The Fools found spots in the living room amongst stuffed trash bags and piles of weapons. He grabbed Beard by the sleeve and pulled him aside near the doorway.
"It's worse than I thought." Ryan whispered.
Beard frowned. "How bad?"
"I'm pretty sure we're already at a Class 2 outbreak, but I've not heard much from the outside. It could be even worse."
"Well I got here as fast as I could, with what I could."
"I know, I know. You did a great job. Any problems with the plan so far?"
"None."
"Great. I'll take over from here." Beard sat down next to Peace and waited for Ryan to speak.
Ryan cleared his throat.
"Fools, I'm going to make this short and sweet. I'm not sure what Beard has already told you, but I have strong reason to believe that right here at Purdue, right now as we speak, we may be in great danger. I'm gonna do my best to turn this apartment into a fortress and defend this patch of land against the living dead, and if it comes to it, the threat of the zombpocalypse itself.
I know it's a lot to take in. Sacrifices must be made, and the coming days and possibly more are gonna get a lot worse before they get better. You're welcome to stay and help, and I hope that you do. If you stay, I'm in command and we follow the Emergency Zed Plan. If that doesn't work for you, now's the time to leave."
Current Word Count: 8,763
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Chapter 6 - Infiltration
June 6th, 2008
10:24am
South Grant Street
"Is this a drill?" Eric asked, calmly.
"Not a drill. Repeat, not a drill. One confirmed attack, several suspected. One confirmed video sighting, as well." Ryan said in a hushed voice.
"Balls! I'm on it. Beard out." There was a click, and the entire conversation ended.
It was over in a matter of seconds, but that was all it took. They'd talked many times before about strategy and tactics, discussed hypothetical scenarios ranging from a simple local outbreak to worldwide catastrophe. It had all been in good fun, a harmless thought exercise, but now their very existence could very well depend on how fast and how accurately they could bring their plan to bear.
Hundreds of variables need to be accounted for, Ryan thought, starting at home. He raced back to his apartment knowing every second counted. To start, he quickly checked every window in the house, making sure they were locked with blinds shut. Not that blinds would do anything to slow down any number of zombies, but making sure that this apartment and anybody inside of it drew no unnecessary attention to itself was paramount. He also noted that the power was still out, and wondered when - if it might be restored.
Ryan knew the next item of business was going to be unpleasant. It was dangerous. It was illegal, but he wasn't about to let a little thing like "the law" keep him from improving his chances of survival against the living dead.
He stealthily exited the apartment, taking extra care to lock behind him. He wasn't planning on being gone long, nor was his destination far, but now more than ever security of his perimeter could mean the difference between life and a fate worse than death.
A quick look around confirmed there were neither creatures nor prying eyes around. He snuck next door and listened at the window for any sounds emanating from inside. There were none, at least that he could hear. He crept to the side door and carefully slid his arm through a broken pane of glass. The glass that hadn't been repaired in over a year after a particularly raucous party. Taking great care to avoid the shards still clinging to the frame, he extended his short arm as far as it would go and very gently unlocked the door.
Just then, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and it broke Ryan's delicate concentration. Startled, he reflexively withdrew his arm and in doing so dragged the inside of his forearm against the sharp glass, opening a deep laceration and narrowly missing an artery.
"Fuckin' hell!" he hissed, dragging the rest of his arm gingerly away from the glass and clutching it tightly. It was too late to turn back now, so he rushed inside his neighbor's door and closed it behind him, hoping the rustle was benign and his wound wasn't serious. He ripped the curtain from the nearest window and tied it tightly around his arm. The blood quickly began to stain the white fabric. Ryan tried to block the sight from his mind and instead focus on the task at hand.
He crept forward through the house, keeping low to avoid being seen through the windows. First, he stopped in the living room. He grabbed all four pool cues and the bridge and stacked them by the back door. Moving onto the kitchen, he found their booze fridge and brushed aside bottles alcohol until he found the purest, which happened to be a bottle of Everclear. He set that next to the cues and searched around for a container.
Man, I wish I had my bookbag he thought as he opened cabinets at random, until at last he found a pile of garbage bags. He extracted two from the box and shook them open, forming a double layered sack. The cabinets were then ransacked in order, with any non-perishable food being tossed inside the bags. Pop-Tarts, granola bars, canned goods, chips, peanut butter, mini-muffins, cereal and more found their way into his stash until the cupboards were bare. Ryan felt like a more desperate version of The Grinch as he piled the food bag near the door. Just as he was sneaking out of the kitchen to head the second floor, he spied a case of bottled water resting against the refrigerator. He dragged it over to the pile and raced upstairs.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, he listened once more for any sounds, but heard none. He darted in and out of the upstairs bedrooms in turn, desperate for any useful item. In the first bedroom, he found batteries and matches in the desk drawers, but nothing else. He stuffed the small items into his pockets and kept moving. He even checked under the bed and behind the door. The lock on the trunk at the foot of the bed was tempting, but every moment he spent inside the house was another moment he could get caught.
The second bedroom seemed fruitless at first glance. Opening the closet released a cascade of sports equipment, and the noise was deafening as tennis balls, a soccer ball, and several footballs clattered to the floor. Ryan stood amidst the pile tense, ready to be confronted, but nothing came. After a few moments, he grabbed a baseball bat and ran to the final bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him.
Ryan opened the door and found himself staring directly at a gigantic stereo system. He paused for a moment to admire the quadruple speaker towers, the enormous subwoofer, and the hundreds of buttons on the front panel. So that's how they manage to keep me awake past 1am. What a shame! Such terrible music comes from these gorgeous speakers! I'm not here to vandalize, but boy would I love to relocate this to my apartment and rock out properly. Perhaps some Judas Priest or Scorpions, shaking the walls... okay, so I'm sort of vandalizing he admitted to himself. But I have to! It's for my own survival. Besides, I could never carry it myself, there's no power, and the sound would only attract attention, he said to himself as a sort of justification.
He shook away the thoughts of outright theft and searched the room. The stereo dominated the room, but when he opened the closet and saw what it contained, the baseball bat in his hand clattered to the floor. Hanging directly in front of him was a camouflage hunter's jumpsuit. Above that was a black plastic case that barely cleared the width of the closet.
Ryan excitedly pulled the case out of the closet and set it on the hardwood floor next to the bed. He said a silent "thank you" that there were no locks and clicked open the case. Inside was a gorgeous rifle, with boxes of shining gold tipped ammunition nestled alongside it.
Ryan grinned. Yes, he thought. This will do quite nicely.
Just then there was a muffled pair of voices nearby. From downstairs, there was a noise at the door as the doorknob was tried, and then a jiggle of keys.
Shit! he thought, panicking slightly. Ryan slammed the plastic lid down and clicked the snaps shut. He grabbed the case and headed for the hallway before he heard the front door creak open.
"...can't believe you, man!" came the voice of a clearly annoyed male.
"Whaaat? I ttold you I jussst needed your help, dude." the second voice spoke, slurred.
"I'm on my fucking lunch break. I'm gonna be late because of your stupid ass."
"Sssorry bro. I got kinda schwasted last night and ended up sssleeping with this girl at a paaarrty. Shhhe got really kinky and I woke up with the mother of all hangggovers."
Oh no, Ryan thought. Please tell me he didn't get bitten last night, thinking it was a drunken hookup.
There was a strange mixture of sounds as one pair of footsteps ascended the stairs, the other one clearly being dragged. Ryan was running out of options. He ran back into the third bedroom and rolled under the bed, dragging the case with him.
Wonderful, Ryan. You're in the clear now, what with the multiple escape routes and such, he said to himself sarcastically.
The steps and dragging noises got louder until a pair of legs appeared in Ryan's vision from under the bed.
No! No no no no. Other bedroom. Why? Why does he have to sleep in this bedroom? Ryan thought to himself, trying desperately to lie silently without moving.
Ryan held his breath as the legs being dragged disappeared from sight and the bed above him depressed uncomfortably into his back. He noticed that the blood from his arm wound had begun to pool on the wooden floor, but he feared any movement would betray his position. He closed his eyes, and waited nervously.
"I hope you can sleep this off" said the first voice. "You're lucky I owe you rent money or I would've left you at that house. How many times are you going to do this to me? My boss already thinks I'm a screwup."
"I'm sssorry, dude. Can you take me tt-to the hossspital when you get off work?" said the second voice, sounding very apologetic.
"Maybe. Just let me-" the voice cut off abruptly. Ryan opened his eyes in fright. Had the blood pooled enough to be seen?
"What. The. Hell?" said the first voice.
Current Word Count: 7,770
10:24am
South Grant Street
"Is this a drill?" Eric asked, calmly.
"Not a drill. Repeat, not a drill. One confirmed attack, several suspected. One confirmed video sighting, as well." Ryan said in a hushed voice.
"Balls! I'm on it. Beard out." There was a click, and the entire conversation ended.
It was over in a matter of seconds, but that was all it took. They'd talked many times before about strategy and tactics, discussed hypothetical scenarios ranging from a simple local outbreak to worldwide catastrophe. It had all been in good fun, a harmless thought exercise, but now their very existence could very well depend on how fast and how accurately they could bring their plan to bear.
Hundreds of variables need to be accounted for, Ryan thought, starting at home. He raced back to his apartment knowing every second counted. To start, he quickly checked every window in the house, making sure they were locked with blinds shut. Not that blinds would do anything to slow down any number of zombies, but making sure that this apartment and anybody inside of it drew no unnecessary attention to itself was paramount. He also noted that the power was still out, and wondered when - if it might be restored.
Ryan knew the next item of business was going to be unpleasant. It was dangerous. It was illegal, but he wasn't about to let a little thing like "the law" keep him from improving his chances of survival against the living dead.
He stealthily exited the apartment, taking extra care to lock behind him. He wasn't planning on being gone long, nor was his destination far, but now more than ever security of his perimeter could mean the difference between life and a fate worse than death.
A quick look around confirmed there were neither creatures nor prying eyes around. He snuck next door and listened at the window for any sounds emanating from inside. There were none, at least that he could hear. He crept to the side door and carefully slid his arm through a broken pane of glass. The glass that hadn't been repaired in over a year after a particularly raucous party. Taking great care to avoid the shards still clinging to the frame, he extended his short arm as far as it would go and very gently unlocked the door.
Just then, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and it broke Ryan's delicate concentration. Startled, he reflexively withdrew his arm and in doing so dragged the inside of his forearm against the sharp glass, opening a deep laceration and narrowly missing an artery.
"Fuckin' hell!" he hissed, dragging the rest of his arm gingerly away from the glass and clutching it tightly. It was too late to turn back now, so he rushed inside his neighbor's door and closed it behind him, hoping the rustle was benign and his wound wasn't serious. He ripped the curtain from the nearest window and tied it tightly around his arm. The blood quickly began to stain the white fabric. Ryan tried to block the sight from his mind and instead focus on the task at hand.
He crept forward through the house, keeping low to avoid being seen through the windows. First, he stopped in the living room. He grabbed all four pool cues and the bridge and stacked them by the back door. Moving onto the kitchen, he found their booze fridge and brushed aside bottles alcohol until he found the purest, which happened to be a bottle of Everclear. He set that next to the cues and searched around for a container.
Man, I wish I had my bookbag he thought as he opened cabinets at random, until at last he found a pile of garbage bags. He extracted two from the box and shook them open, forming a double layered sack. The cabinets were then ransacked in order, with any non-perishable food being tossed inside the bags. Pop-Tarts, granola bars, canned goods, chips, peanut butter, mini-muffins, cereal and more found their way into his stash until the cupboards were bare. Ryan felt like a more desperate version of The Grinch as he piled the food bag near the door. Just as he was sneaking out of the kitchen to head the second floor, he spied a case of bottled water resting against the refrigerator. He dragged it over to the pile and raced upstairs.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, he listened once more for any sounds, but heard none. He darted in and out of the upstairs bedrooms in turn, desperate for any useful item. In the first bedroom, he found batteries and matches in the desk drawers, but nothing else. He stuffed the small items into his pockets and kept moving. He even checked under the bed and behind the door. The lock on the trunk at the foot of the bed was tempting, but every moment he spent inside the house was another moment he could get caught.
The second bedroom seemed fruitless at first glance. Opening the closet released a cascade of sports equipment, and the noise was deafening as tennis balls, a soccer ball, and several footballs clattered to the floor. Ryan stood amidst the pile tense, ready to be confronted, but nothing came. After a few moments, he grabbed a baseball bat and ran to the final bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him.
Ryan opened the door and found himself staring directly at a gigantic stereo system. He paused for a moment to admire the quadruple speaker towers, the enormous subwoofer, and the hundreds of buttons on the front panel. So that's how they manage to keep me awake past 1am. What a shame! Such terrible music comes from these gorgeous speakers! I'm not here to vandalize, but boy would I love to relocate this to my apartment and rock out properly. Perhaps some Judas Priest or Scorpions, shaking the walls... okay, so I'm sort of vandalizing he admitted to himself. But I have to! It's for my own survival. Besides, I could never carry it myself, there's no power, and the sound would only attract attention, he said to himself as a sort of justification.
He shook away the thoughts of outright theft and searched the room. The stereo dominated the room, but when he opened the closet and saw what it contained, the baseball bat in his hand clattered to the floor. Hanging directly in front of him was a camouflage hunter's jumpsuit. Above that was a black plastic case that barely cleared the width of the closet.
Ryan excitedly pulled the case out of the closet and set it on the hardwood floor next to the bed. He said a silent "thank you" that there were no locks and clicked open the case. Inside was a gorgeous rifle, with boxes of shining gold tipped ammunition nestled alongside it.
Ryan grinned. Yes, he thought. This will do quite nicely.
Just then there was a muffled pair of voices nearby. From downstairs, there was a noise at the door as the doorknob was tried, and then a jiggle of keys.
Shit! he thought, panicking slightly. Ryan slammed the plastic lid down and clicked the snaps shut. He grabbed the case and headed for the hallway before he heard the front door creak open.
"...can't believe you, man!" came the voice of a clearly annoyed male.
"Whaaat? I ttold you I jussst needed your help, dude." the second voice spoke, slurred.
"I'm on my fucking lunch break. I'm gonna be late because of your stupid ass."
"Sssorry bro. I got kinda schwasted last night and ended up sssleeping with this girl at a paaarrty. Shhhe got really kinky and I woke up with the mother of all hangggovers."
Oh no, Ryan thought. Please tell me he didn't get bitten last night, thinking it was a drunken hookup.
There was a strange mixture of sounds as one pair of footsteps ascended the stairs, the other one clearly being dragged. Ryan was running out of options. He ran back into the third bedroom and rolled under the bed, dragging the case with him.
Wonderful, Ryan. You're in the clear now, what with the multiple escape routes and such, he said to himself sarcastically.
The steps and dragging noises got louder until a pair of legs appeared in Ryan's vision from under the bed.
No! No no no no. Other bedroom. Why? Why does he have to sleep in this bedroom? Ryan thought to himself, trying desperately to lie silently without moving.
Ryan held his breath as the legs being dragged disappeared from sight and the bed above him depressed uncomfortably into his back. He noticed that the blood from his arm wound had begun to pool on the wooden floor, but he feared any movement would betray his position. He closed his eyes, and waited nervously.
"I hope you can sleep this off" said the first voice. "You're lucky I owe you rent money or I would've left you at that house. How many times are you going to do this to me? My boss already thinks I'm a screwup."
"I'm sssorry, dude. Can you take me tt-to the hossspital when you get off work?" said the second voice, sounding very apologetic.
"Maybe. Just let me-" the voice cut off abruptly. Ryan opened his eyes in fright. Had the blood pooled enough to be seen?
"What. The. Hell?" said the first voice.
Current Word Count: 7,770
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