Infected: They Will Eat You!: A Story of Family Survival in a Zombie Apocalypse (2 page)

Our game goes well and we win by one in a defensive battle. Everyone’s happy.

On the way home I start talking about the game. I coach so I
always
want to talk about the game afterward, the boys just want to know if their friends can come over.

“Six bombs exploded in Israel last night. Three hundred people died.” Christine’s reading headlines from her phone. Her contributions to conversations often veer from the topic. At least it seems that way to me. “Do you think this is it?” she asks.

“What is it?” I reply.

“The start of the end.” she said.

“No more than the last bombings were or the ones before that.” I answer then go back to talking about the game. But the game is done and no one wants to talk about it. That’s a great thing about kids, they have an experience and once it’s over they move on. I, on the other hand, tend to dwell on events. What went right? What could we have done better? You know….

Once home the boys start playing in the back yard. Christine heads to the store and I work on better organizing the garage. We spent the past few months gathering tools and equipment at auctions and yard sales with plans of setting up a work shop. Caleb is a fledgling blacksmith and Jesse a wood carver and carpenter so we need an organized space before winter. It’s an agonizing job. I have decided that I have too much junk.

Christine comes home from the grocery store talking to someone on the phone about ‘the end.’ I get a glass of water and head back to the garage.

That night at dinner she brings it up again. “Don’t you want to know about Israel?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” I respond, “When something new or different happens I’ll be interested maybe.”

“What happened mama?” Caleb asked.

“There were bombs that exploded in Israel the other day. Hundreds of people were hurt and many were killed.” she replied.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because when bombs explode they send rocks and metal and stuff shooting in all directions.” I answered.

“Thant’s not what he means and you know it.” Christine said, “There are people who don’t like Israel and who want to hurt Israelis and destroy Israel.”

“Muslims.” inserted Jesse.

“Mostly.” I answered.

“It’s not just Muslims, it’s people who don’t love God.” she said, “It’s people who want to change what’s right and wrong and…..”

“It’s Muslims.” I interrupted.

Christine and I have very different ways of communication. I prefer fewer details she many…many, many details.

I left them to their conversation and went back to the garage.

-——————————————

Sunday, it’s four when I wake up. Hey! I slept in. Sunday is the only day I won’t work, I mean my business work. Most of my job involves sitting in front of a computer so on Sunday I avoid the computer and do physical work like gardening, splitting wood, working on the house or projects with the boys. During football season the afternoons are mostly spent with friends watching a game or two. My brain needs the different stimulation. My body needs the change.

After lying in bed for a half an hour thinking, I make my way to the coffee then read for a couple hours. After that I wonder into the basement.

Our basement has a finished room, my office, at the bottom of the steps with a door leading to an unfinished part that we use as storage. The unfinished part surrounds my office on three sides and includes shelves in various areas to help organize tools, camping gear, and the stuff used only occasionally. Near the door leading outside we have a chest freezer and a pantry area. While I wouldn’t categorize us as preppers we have been slowly collecting food and other items for emergencies.

Caleb has taken to inventorying our supplies and organizing everything. I’m happy he is interested and taking ownership for this area but it means that I can’t find anything anymore. One benefit is that I can tell him to get whatever I need and don’t have to search for it myself.

For the rest of the morning I work at moving things around to make room to build more shelves and set up a reloading area. The past year has seen such an increase in price and scarcity of ammunition reloading only makes since. It’s also a skill the boys may need sometime in their lives.

-——————————————

Monday morning….at least it’s not three. Four forty five is a decent time to get up. Work goes easy when there is no commotion in the house. Early hours are quiet and today I even forget to turn on the news and I lose track of time ‘till I hear Christine moving about upstairs around eight. That means that she will be behind in her work and the kids will need to get started on their school quickly. I should have waked her an hour ago.

-——————————————

By three thirty Caleb and I are outside picking things up that are laying in the yard and putting them in their proper places. Jesse makes it out within a half hour. The conversation quickly turns to how well each item being put away would work in killing zombies. I let them watch a zombie movie last night so they have been thinking zombies all day. With two boys and the surge in popularity of
the undead
over the past couple years the subject of conversation around our house often turns in this direction, so much so that we have started analyzing the different presentations of zombies in movies and popular culture. We even look at real-life zombie occurrences like that guy in Florida eating someone’s face. This not only gives Caleb and Jesse time to use their imagination but also gives me time to help them with critical thinking. Let’s face it, movies and TV shows have represented zombies over a wide spectrum. Some can run, most can’t. Some can talk, most can’t. Some can be killed like a
living
human but often we see that they can only die by a shot or blow to the head. What is true…..more specifically what could be true?

“Would that bamboo staff really be a good zombie weapon?” I ask Jesse as he swings a six foot length of bamboo around his head.

“It could, if you sharpen the end so you had spikes…then you could jab them in the eyeball.” he answered.

“And it would be light.” Caleb added.

“OK, could work. You’re not going to club them with it, not enough mass to do damage but as a spear…. You’d have to have good aim or they would have to move slowly.” I say.

“Zombies do move slow.” was Jesse’s response.

“Most zombies in movies do but what kind of zombies could there be if a zombie apocalypse really happened? Would they be dead people coming back to life?” I ask.

“Probably not.” he said.

“But they could.” was Caleb’s addition.

“Yeah. Have you seen what makes zombies in movies?” I ask.

“No.” they answered.

“Often it’s a virus or something unexplained that causes a fever then
kills
the person. Then a portion of the brain sparks and they come back. It’s not all of the brain but just a part that controls the most basic urge, to eat. If it’s explained that’s about all that’sand that’s how most zombies are portrayed.” I said.

“But they can see and smell.” said Caleb.

“You saw that one last night, where they smell people?” I ask.

“And they can hear.” added Jesse.

“Yeah, see, hear and smell. But apparently don’t feel pain…..What system controls the senses?” I ask.

“The nervous system?” answered Caleb somewhat tentatively.

“Yeah. So if they can hear and see and smell shouldn’t they feel pain? That only makes since to me.”

“Maybe they do but just don’t show it.” was Jesse’s thought.

“Could be.” I said, “Also, if they are dead and it’s just a part of their brain that works wouldn’t they just rot? Blood feeds cells oxygen and what pumps the blood?”

“The heart.” they answer in unison.

“And breathing puts oxygen in blood.” added Jesse.

“So if a zombie does not breath, and his heart does not pump blood his flesh would just rot, correct?”

“Yeah.” again they answer in unison.

“We don’t see zombies bleed when they are shot do we? It’s just a bunch of goo that comes out.” I ask, “After a few months they’d just decay and be gone.”

“In some movies they bleed.” protested Caleb.

“I think we see blood but it’s blood from victims not the zombies.” I said.

“I’ve seen zombies bleed.” Caleb came back.

“You have? Like in person?” I poked.

“In movies.” he said.

“Maybe. I can’t think of any. But maybe that was a different kind of zombie. What if the zombie was not someone who died and came back?” I posed.

“Like someone on drugs.” Jesse chimed in.

“Yeah. Like that guy on the bridge eating that person….” Caleb said.

“What if zombies weren’t dead but just crazy people on drugs or a virus made them go crazy?” I asked.

“Then they would be alive……?” was Jesse’s half question.

“They’d be alive and could be killed like a person.” added Caleb.

“Maybe. If they were alive and just nuts they could be killed by shooting them in the heart and not just a headshot.” I said, “But maybe they could run and climb ladders and do things like normal people.”

“In some movies they can to that.” said Caleb.

“Yep.” I answered, “Some drugs also make people crazy but stronger. It could take ten shots to kill them. Maybe a zombie drug or zombie virus would just transform people and not kill them and bring them back as
walking dead
. But if it was a drug that made zombies I can’t see that a bite would turn someone else into a zombie.” was my thought.

“Unless the drug gave people a vires.” Jesse said.

“Yeah….get to work. We can talk and work and we need to get the yard picked up.” I ordered.

That ended the intellectual zombie talk but not the talk about how well each item picked up would work as a zombie weapon. That was not the first conversation we had had about zombies and the potential types and causes of their existence. Zombies had become a real merchandising boom with everything from ammo to arms, patches and clothing and food storage items having zombie themes. Then there were the reports of people with “zombie-like symptoms” attacking people. While these were isolated occurrences, as far as we were aware, they were new.

Zombies are an interesting subject. Zombies or perhaps being eaten alive creates great fear, the visual effect of a zombie, no matter the type, dead or living, is frightening to us. Since zombies are not
human
and because they are trying to eat our face off killing a zombie is simple self-defense or protecting others from a horrible event. The subject of killing zombies is an exciting subject for boys, of all ages, not often for girls, my wife in particular. Especially while eating.

“That’s enough talk about zombie and killing and killing zombies.” Christine finally said, “This is not appropriate dinner conversation.”

“I would tie a rock on a rope and swing it around and hit the zombies in the head…..” Jesse continued.

“ENOUGH!” Christine shouted.

It got quiet.

“Let’s talk about something happy.” she said more calmly.

“Killing zombies is happy.” taunted Caleb, “Zombies are bad, they want to eat people so killing them is good.”

“Caleb….enough.” I said.

“Let’s talk about math or
My Life as a Giant Burrito, Flat Stanly
or prepositions or God. No more killing or zombies or anything like that.” Christine added.

And so the conversation turned, the boys begrudgingly answered math questions and gave summaries of the books they were reading. The evening moved on from dinner to cleaning to a little TV, no zombie, prepper, shows. It was time to keep mama happy.
Elementary
it was.

-——————————————

Tuesday morning began as most recent days had, early with nagging thoughts of the need to be more prepared. Prepared for what exactly was not the issue, could be zombies, could be rising prices of food but it was a growing ever nagging urge to
horde
!

For most of the morning I ignored work and searched online for the “best prepping supplies”. I knew that what supplies we had stored up would be OK for a short time but they were bulky cans and jugs of water that if the need to move quickly arose would not be easily transportable. Lighter more compact items would be needed. My online search focused on these.

By noon I had ordered what I felt was a strong foundation for the “family on the move” in extreme circumstances. What I didn’t order online I knew I could pick up locally. Now to switch my focus to work or so I first thought.

The “news” was not an important part of our daily life but the increased strife around the world was becoming harder to ignore and it seemed that every day food and fuel prices jumped higher. That’s what had Christine alarmed.

“Thank God we have the garden and the rabbits.” she said after Jesse asked for seconds at dinner. “Prices of everything are higher than last week.”

Until six months or so ago she couldn’t have told you what anything cost. Now she was well aware of the prices of every food item she bought and how much it had increased.

“Rabbit’s good.” Jesse said.

“Oh yeah.” added Caleb, “Dad, what are we going to do with the skins?”

“How many do we have done?” I asked.

“Sixteen tanned and five that will be done in a few days.” he answered.

“I thought we’d save them ‘till we had a hundred then sell them. Why, what do you want to do with them?” I asked.

“Jesse and I thought we could make something.” he answered.

“Yeah, like a coat or something.” Jesse chimed in excitedly.

“You’ll probably need a lot more pelts than we have for a coat.” was my thought.

“How many more? We have more rabbits, when will we skin them?” Jesse asked.

“Not for another few weeks. And we only have about five that will be ready. I think you’ll need double what we have and that will be a few months.”

That answer silenced the conversation for a minute or so. Then Caleb asked, “How much can we get for a pelt?”

“Around a buck. Maybe three or four if we retail them but that takes longer to sell.” was my guess.

“That’s almost fifty dollars.” Caleb said, “Let’s just sell them.”