Back story, Jon of the North

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Permalink Reply by Jon of the North on July 3, 2011 at 10:50pm

Zombie Story (part 2)
I got home unloaded the car, it was already getting late. Parents weren't home and I realized they probably wouldn't be if Z-day was really happening. I brought all the guns upstairs, all the ammo I could find, my bow and all the arrows that fit. My dad had a bow but he was left handed and his arrows were shorter, not much help.
I had 4 shotguns, 3 of them 12 gauge, pump action and the old single shot 20 gauge. For the 20 I only had 10 shells, probably a good thing. It was light and small, but with only 1 shot, not good for crisis.
I had 2 .50 caliber muzzleloaders including my dad's Hawken's. 15 arrows for my bow, 3 broadheads. Then again, a broadhead goes into a skull, it don't come out. I had 5 hunting knives plus 3 utility/hunting knives I had taken from Walmart. The best would be black powder, they were accurate up to 100 yards, they'd put anything, including Zed down, not to mention rip limbs from the body. Plus I had enough black powder and rounds for over 100 shots.
As I gathered it together I remembered the old man had a .44 Mag Ruger and this old Army black powder revolver, just more for the arsenal.
I moved the canned goods, bottled water, everything I could upstairs. 3 rooms and enough supplies to last a month if I rationed it well.
This is all well and good if you're only facing Zed. Problem is, people always want what you have and more than ever I knew they would take it by force. I needed a map, because I had to establish an antihuman plan, a plan to get away from these survivors.

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Permalink Reply by Jon of the North on July 3, 2011 at 11:11pm

Zombie story (part 3)
The funny thing about survivors, they will kill other survivors to survive. This is where you get separation. You have ultimate survivors, those who survive anything, anyhow and rely upon themselves. You have your group survivors who band together under 1 person, a dictator, who controls all that happens. Then you have victim survivors, the ones who hole up alone. They prepare for their death as either Zed, ultimate survivors or a group comes along and takes what they want.
I chose that night when I got the map out of the Buick, to be an ultimate survivor. The battery radio had confirmed this was Z-day. It would only be a few days if I was lucky before Zed found the house and started coming for me. Now there's no real safe place, so either you make a place safe... enough or you learn to travel. If you travel it has to be light and fast. If you stay, you better be prepared for a siege.
I started looking over the map, where to go. There's places up north where nobody lives for miles. My problem, half a tank of fuel in the Buick. 8 gallons plus the 2 "reserve" that don't read on the gauge. At 22 miles per gallon, that gives me 220 miles. If I drive slower, maybe 240 miles, faster, maybe 200. Fuck, I wish I had grabbed a syphon. I figured I had 2 empty gas cans in the garage. A hammer and screwdriver will puncture a tank and drain it quickly.
As night fell and I set my course, well what I thought it would be, there came a noise from outside. Shit, already? No, couldn't be. I peered outside, one of the neighbors already had the same idea. They were in the garage. It's amazing how quickly shit breaks down and how brave people get when they want to stay alive. Well, I'm no victim, time to teach them a quick lesson.

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Permalink Reply by Jon of the North on July 3, 2011 at 11:31pm

Zombie story (part 4)
Rather than play around I grabbed my favorite 12 ga. I loaded it up, checked my pocket, I had a utility knife, it's something. But if I needed more than 6 shots out of the shotgun, I was liable to be fucked anyways.
I snuck downstairs, out the back patio door, round the corner and peaked inside the garage. It was using a flashlight, not a zombie, yet. If I have to shoot, it's for the head, anything and everything now is in the head.
The flashlight shined in my direction, quickly as I could I pulled back. They probably saw me... Safety off... What was it they said in the Army? "Kill them all, let god sort them out." I hope he has room for another in the line. It's taken a bit, they must not have seen me. I don't know what they are looking for, but it's not their's. Not yet, nor will it be.
I step back around to look in, they are looking down. I bring the shotgun up, level with their head... "A 3 inch mag slug will ruin your day friend." They stand straight up. "What the fuck you looking for friend?" She stood up slowly, raising her hands, she turned toward me, "I just want to get a few things so I can get out of here."
With this being a small town I would think I would know her, but I didn't. She was short, blonde, late 20's. Later I found out her name was Gina. After talking and realizing we were in the same problem, I invited her in. Already helping others, way to go ultimate survivor. 

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Permalink Reply by Jon of the North on July 4, 2011 at 12:09am

Zombie story (part 5)
We went into the house, upstairs to the bedroom. It's not what you think, instead of mutual satisfaction it was mutual interrogation. She had been headed west out of Green Bay and ran out of gas a few miles up the road. Fucking women, always running out of gas... Well soon enough I'd be in the same boat.
She said she had known she had to leave when shit got hairy at Lambeau field. Fucking Packers weren't even suppose to play that day but those jackass fans go there to see it one last time in case society goes to shit. Welcome to the future.
I sat up all night while she slept. Had to keep guard and I didn't trust her yet. She didn't trust me either since she didn't get much sleep. How can you right? Come morning we decided to check out some other houses around. There were about 8 within walking distance. 
The first house was filled with a lot of junk. This family of misfits & rejects who abused state welfare had already fled, like locusts. I don't know when they had left, maybe I had dosed off, but I was ok with that. In their basement we found a 1 gallon gas can, barely enough to spit in but that was better than no fuel. Outside they had a car on blocks. Thing hadn't moved in months, but there was gas in it. I set the small can down. Chances are this gas was old, probably useless. If Gina wanted it, it was her's.
The hardest part of searching a house I found was with the shotgun you were limited as to movement and what you could carry. I needed rope to make a sling. Gina was still inside rummaging. I went in to find her, she had found a small store of canned food, the usual stuff people don't eat. Mustard greens, spinach, things like that. We moved it out by the crap car. The problem we realized is we had to either stay together or separate and divide all the found goods.
As we talked she mentioned she had a small Chevy Cavalier, 1999. Ugly little thing. It had good fuel mileage but I knew it wouldn't hold shit when we needed to bug out.
It was decided that we would combine our efforts. We gathered some bags, packed up our finds and went back to the house. I realized we would have to alter plans. I cleared a space in the garage and backed in the Buick, closed the garage door and cleaned it out. Utilizing some hardware I rigged up a system to hold the 20 between driver and passenger seat.
Shortly thereafter we placed half the arsenal in the car. A small store of emergency goods and half the black powder went in the trunk. In an emergency, we were set to leave, immediately.

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Permalink Reply by Jon of the North on July 4, 2011 at 1:27am

Zombie story (part 6)
For the next 4 days we went house to house gathering food, water, ammunition, gasoline and anything else we could find. I grabbed gallon jugs and any large bottles for water to fill from the creek across the road. 
Z-day plus 6 arrived with a light storm, the day we set aside to boil water, was a washout. We took this time to talk, get to know each other and finally grieve. We had been so busy we didn't take the opportunity to cry.
Food stores having been filled (meaning the trunk of the LeSabre) and the gas tank being filled from cars left in the area, we were finally ready. We were as prepared as could be. We could go anywhere, 400 miles in any direction, but we waited. We knew the lifeless bastards would come any day. I took the next few days to weld rebar over windows and down off the bumper to deflect anything from the tires. This added weight and decreased fuel mileage, but safety had to come first.
8 days after it began brought the first of them. They came from the east. 3 of them as the crested the hill we knew, our lives would never be the same.
I crawled out of the window onto the roof of the porch, trying to keep a low profile. I laid in the prone with the .50 Hawken's and took aim. The lead zombie must have seen me, his head tilted back and you could hear the moan echo. He picked up his pace to almost a casual walk, the wind blew from the west and the other 2 zombies made the same motions & sounds. I placed my thumb on the hammer, pulling it back, a 185 grain round pushed by 60 grains of black powder would knock down a buffalo, I just needed to hit the head. It was about 300 yards away when I placed on the priming cap, waiting. Gina hung out the window and placed the other muzzleloader on the roof. It didn't matter now if they saw us, they knew we were there.
Zack got to about 120 yards when I finally couldn't wait, nerves got the better of me, I squeezed the trigger... BOOM... the world went white with smoke from the gun powder, I grabbed the other rifle, it had a shorter barrel so I knew if I missed they'd have to be closer.
The smoke cleared enough to see through, I had hit him... In the shoulder, the arm hung limp, nearly separated. Ooze dripped from the wound. 

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