Part Five

1:10 PM Lunch and Training

I surveyed the damage around the house as James unpacked the weaponry on the kitchen table and my wife and Jessie put as much food in the refrigerator as possible. The rest went into the freezer.

James continued unpacking and re-checking the inventory, while my daughter helped. I’m not fond of the idea of my daughter around guns, but considering the circumstances, it’s time she learned how to handle a gun and learn to respect them like they should be.

I listened to James explain to her how guns, in general, work. I chimed in a few safety points, for her to hear.

I came back into the kitchen as everyone was finished. I went over the rules of having weapons in the house, and how to load, aim and fire.

I felt, in a sick and twisted way, proud to hand my wife and daughter their first firearms.
After which, I made it known that food is a necessity. We must eat, weather we felt up to it or not, and I proceeded to make a turkey sandwich.

Shortly after we’d eaten, James pulled out the two-way radios and headsets and loaded the batteries in.

James then handed them out. Letting everyone know that if we were outside and separated, we still had communication, as well as keeping quiet indoors while not attracting attention to zombies, we could still communicate with one another with out shouting through the house, but merely talk into the headset.

It was decided that we would group in pairs. While we were training the others in proper uses of rifles and hand guns, the others would keep a close eye on the front of the house, in case of anymore unwanted visitors.

I handed my daughter a loaded 9 mm hand gun. I explained the process of firing a hand gun, and the “kick” she would feel after pulling the trigger. I asked her to respect the pistol and care for it. Never point it at another “LIVING” being.

It was time to practice. I set up her first target; a 2 liter bottle. I moved back to my position behind her, and told her to use both hands, and showed her how to line up her target with her site. Putting my arms around hers to help her brace for her first shot, I told her to keep her eyes open and gently squeeze the trigger.

I don’t think she was quite ready for the recoil. She stumbled backward into me as she watched the bottle fly into the fence.

We set up the target again, and I let her practice without my help. She caught on rather quickly. It was almost frightening. She tried her hand at the .22 and did remarkably better. I was impressed.

It was Kritz’s turn. This was going to be fun. I showed her just like my daughter. I put my arms around hers, and well… this time, I got aroused.



2:25 PM IM Chat, Anyone?

We were bored. The television stations were broadcasting nothingness. Sure, satellite has more channels, but when there’s nothing on but Aussie soccer, it tends to get a little monotonous after a while.

We still had a DSL connection, though. And what better way to communicate with people all over the country and the world, than IM Chat? And since, we wondered if the problem was just local or national, we could easily find out, if anyone else was as bored as we were.

To my surprise, the chat was full. Everyone was on and everyone was talking about the pandemic. This was becoming a zombie nation.

One girl had to excuse herself from the room for a moment. She picked up a bat and walked off camera. We could only hear faint moans, thuds, and a few screams. Either she had a small zombie problem her boyfriend got out of hand and needed an attitude adjustment. We decided it was the first of the two.

She came back on camera setting a bloody bat on the desk next to her. As she sat back down, she composed herself and resumed the conversation where she left off.

From one microphone, we could all hear were a few gunshots, and some cursing, and a mumbling about not having enough to drink in order to handle this appropriately.

There were many comments and complaints about not having a zombie plan. However, the only one who DID manage to have a zombie plan was laughing at us.

I often wondered about him. However, aside from his quirks, he thought enough ahead to be prepared.

I could hear one speaking to her husband about running out of ammo, and holding a baseball bat in the ready position, while she was holding on to a golf club.

Another girl was locked in her apartment with the radio playing music. So far she was not in a position to be threatened, but she was ready to kick ass, if need be.

Meanwhile, another man ushered his wife and daughter into his room, and sat them down and resumed his conversations, and welcomed us into the chat, as if nothing were wrong.

We exchanged our stories and helpful hints, and going against the rules of “No Weapons on Camera”, showing what we were using to defeat the undead. The admins were ok with it, this time. Considering, they had half their sword collections sitting next to them, and they were carrying side arms.


4:30 PM Stand Off

They were coming toward the lights of the house by the hundreds. Somehow, they managed to get into the back yard. I seriously doubt any of them were smart enough to either climb the small fence or open the chain link gate, but they got in. (Ok, chalk another one up for Hollywood.)

We were surrounded. James, Jessie, and Kritz took the front windows. My daughter and I took the back windows.

Gunshots rang through the house. Zombies fell. They kept coming. Somehow, they knew we were there. I wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the rotting corpses out front, but they knew. (Stupid rotting corpses; they suck.)

I called over the headset to my daughter; checking in. She replied with her evil chuckle that she only used when she was doing something that’s not quite right, but still fun, “Not now, dad. I’m kind of busy.”

I could hear her chuckle over the gunshots, as she continued to blast away the undead that continued to poor in. (I was almost frightened, but then again, I was enjoying myself in that sick and twisted way, too.)

Then, I heard something for the first time, come out of my daughter’s mouth that I don’t think I was ready for: “SHIT! I’m out! DAD?”

I then heard the sound of a new clip and her chambering a round into her 9 MM with another sound of, “Ooooh! Nice.”

Kritz’s voice crackled over the headset, “I’m coming, kid, hang on. James, Jessie? Take over.”

Kritz made her way to the master bedroom, where my daughter was carefully picking her targets. Apparently my daughter failed to hit one; it grabbed her through the broken window and started to pull her toward him causing her to drop her pistol. Kritzia dropped the rifle she was loading to help pull her back in, screaming “NO!”

(Now, hearing all this over the headset, there’s only one thing you immediately think about doing, but in that split second, you realize that you have no time to panic, so you do what any parent would do.)

I ran to the bedroom, with guns blazing; one hand grabbing my daughter while the other held out my shotgun to its target. I justly stated, “Not on my watch, fucker!” and pulled the trigger.

Its head exploded causing it to lose grip on my daughter. Kritz pulled her in and to the floor, holding her tight, while I continued firing at the zombies from my new post.

(uh-oh)

I told Kritz to take the back, kitchen window ASAP. We had to hold them off as long as we could.

James and Jessie had their hands full, as well. (I don’t think Jessie was enjoying the fun as much as we were, however, she was an excellent marksman.)

As the night started to set in, we weren’t making much in the lines of headway. We were still trapped and fighting.

They kept coming. There was no end in sight. We needed an escape route.

James and I conversed over the headsets. We both agreed that we needed to clear a path to his SUV, get everyone in it, and get the hell out of dodge… so to speak.

After the long argument we then decided that everyone needed to work together to get into that SUV. However, one person needed to stay behind, as a continued distraction. Then when they were in and gone, the remaining person needed to blow the place to kingdom come.

Since no one wanted to die, nor risk death, nor the death of a loved one, we made the executive decision that someone could get to the roof and help clear the path. Once the path was cleared, they would then jump down and scramble to the SUV. (Hell, if Hollywood could do it… So could we.)

It was agreed. I would get to the roof through the attic and fire away, while the others slipped out through the garage and into the SUV.