Zombie Defense

Z-Day +7. After only a week of infection, the first official “horde” of zombies came tearing through here, alarmingly close to our cul-de-sac. Fortunately, they didn’t quite make it as far as our house, and we went unnoticed. Our house is on the very edge of the development, and the horde cut across the neighborhood like scarab beetles. Good thing zombies aren’t thorough; I guess they smelled a large gathering of fresh humans somewhere farther down, and our house lay just barely outside their trajectory. But man, it was a horde. Hundreds of ‘em. Maybe a thousand. We’re definitely seeing a surge in the zombie population. Duck and cover, people.

This roving pack was one of those large groups that formed by pure chance, held together by an almost competitive drive to get the next victim first. Zombies may have some semblance of basic instinct, but I hardly think they have a pack mentality. There are plenty of solitary menaces lumbering around in the night, so don’t go thinking you’re safe just because there’s no mobile zombie mosh pit drifting your way.

For the stray zombie, the straggler, the random group of a small few, I’ve been sniping from the rooftop. I don’t want to draw the attention of the hordes, but when a handful or even just a single zombie comes too close and discovers us, that’s where zombie defense comes in. Guns, baby. Kinda makes you want to vote straight-ticket Republican. When every day is a long and dreadful test to survive, sometimes the only outlet is letting one of those reanimated sons of bitches have a lead sandwich. One headshot, and they’re fertilizer. Zombies aren’t drawn to other zombies decomposing on your lawn.

I’ve given up the bottle, though; sure, it takes the edge off, but I can’t afford to get sloppy. I thought about using the remaining alcohol for Molotov cocktails on a horde, but that’s a decidedly slow-acting countermeasure, and the last thing you want is to make a roving horde of zombies into a roving horde of flaming zombies. Yeah, they’ll eat you and burn down your fort. That’s a rookie mistake. You’re going to have to find another use for alcohol, like sterilization of open wounds (seriously, by this point paper cuts are terrifying). But if you find yourself in a drive-by situation, by all means: toss that Molotov cocktail into the most crowded part of the horde.

As for melee combat, you have to watch out for infected blood spatter. Guns make a mess up close, so equip a backup (also to save your ammo). Chainsaws are out. I’d find a katana if you can, because those things are designed for decapitations. Not the crappy, cheap mall outlet store katana, though, because they aren’t sharp or sturdy enough, and they will fall apart on you after a few strikes. Where you’d get a real katana, I have no idea. But if you live close to a history museum…

Another pitfall to watch out for is improper energy conservation. Do not over-exert yourself! Yeah, the adrenaline is pumping, and you want to beat the (non)living snot out of the two zombies coming at you, but muscles tire while zombies do not. Save your strength. Evasion is the best defense, because you can’t swat them all down with a 3-iron. Fight only when you absolutely have to, and only to get away. Don’t go into a blind rage to “make them pay” for infecting your loved ones, because zombies don’t understand grudges or revenge. You just survive. That’s all.

The zombie population might be at critical mass now, desperate for living flesh to sustain them. Soon, their food supply will run low and they will even turn on each other. At this point, however, it’s best to just stay completely hidden for a few weeks straight, riding it out until the current zombie waves decompose to the point where they are no longer a threat. The next few weeks will be the hardest, but after that there may actually be hope.