Walkers Don't Dance

Walkers don't dance. They don't duck, they don't dodge, block, throw wheel kicks, drunken kung fu monkey punches, or try and put the patented zombie death grip on your head. They don't have any creep to them once they see you. They become aware of you, they orient their face and body to your location, and then they are coming. A newly animated walker is at its best, as strong and as fast as it is ever going to get, and from there it is all down hill.

Human bipedalism is actually quite a trick and involves a lot of complex calculations which we learn to do automatically as toddlers and then basically ignore. For the virus to have adapted the cells in the walkers to allow it to actually remain upright with any balance at all is one of the great mysteries of the virus. I had never seen a walker pivot, spin on its heel, or move laterally. They were always moving forward, and if they needed to turn around they had to take a series of short forward steps in a small circle to do so. This isn't to say they were harmless. At a range of twenty feet if you are suddenly confronted with three walkers, and your strategy is to draw a handgun and open fire, the chances are one of them will manage to close. Then you are hand to hand with the victim of a highly contagious contact plague. Yeah, very bad fucking idea for folks wearing a tee shirt and cool shades.

The momentum developed by a Zeke as it moves towards you can be considerable, and the impact can easily knock a person down especially on rough ground. I had quickly learned that no matter what, you don't turn to run, and you don't stand in front of the thing and try to absorb the impact. They can incline their charge right or left, but they are poor judges of distance and don't make quick corrections side to side. Their sensory ability and all their offense is right in front of them. When dealing with a single walker, or a small number spread out, I had learned to wait until the last second, and then step quickly forward and to one side. Yes, it is totally counter to instinct and common sense, and it isn't something I ever got comfortable with. An ordinary human would simply pivot and grab you, game over. The zekes however didn't have that kind of game. They would stop and attempt to turn to bring you back within their frontal death grip zone, but by that time you were standing almost beside them. Double gloved and armored it was easy enough to simply grab the upper arm and using their own momentum pull them a bit forward, and into position for a killing blow to the temple region of the head. This is the thinnest part of the human skull, and it doesn't take much to create a fracture.

I of course have a collection of firearms, and although I carry a hand gun at all times I almost never use it. The first time my wife saw me gear up to go out on a recon, I was pretty sure she was going to kill me herself. The heavy rubber mallet from my tool box had never seemed to anybody like much of a sexy zombie killing weapon. Your "slayers" had preferred assault rifles and Katana swords. I am sure they were all convinced it would look better when they ran into the little post apocalyptic goth girl with the cool tats and pop top nipple rings. Fucking Hollywood. I am pretty sure it killed more people than the Zekes. The rubber mallet with a single large lag bolt in the striking face was light, would cave in a skull, and wouldn't get stuck. There was no problem with over swing, or recovery, and you could be cocked for another blow almost instantly. You get a few Zekes close together, and get your weapon wedged in a skull, or run through a breast bone, you'd best have your running shoes on. It isn't about killing the first one. If they only showed up one at a time an ax or a sledge hammer would be a sure thing. It's about how long it takes you to get back on guard for the second one. The mallet was fast, was a one blow kill if handled right, and created no spatter.

My primary weapon I called a spike. The spike itself I had made from a heavy nine inch Phillip's head screw driver,  the collar which prevented over penetration, was a circle cut from and old plastic cutting board. The five foot shaft I had made from metal pipe and on the butt end was a heavy old trailer hitch ball I had found on a wrecked pickup. The weapon was about six feet long when I had finished with it. Spike a walker in the torso, and you could pitch fork them to one side or the other using their forward momentum, or simply hold them off of you with little chance that the spike would get hung up. It was solid and heavy enough to go through an eye socket or the temple with a quick thrust. The heavy butt end would fracture a thigh bone, crush a skull, or shatter a spine. If you didn't want to touch zombies a spike was the thing. Deadly at both ends it was simple, light, and fast. Above all both these weapons were very quiet. It doesn't take much time around walkers to understand that they see poorly, and if one is close enough to smell you you are already in deep shit. Noise is the thing. Zekes can pick up the sound of a gunshot or a running engine at remarkable distances, and will immediately head towards it. They seem to have at least a functional ability to pick out the sorts of sounds that indicate a human presence. I had quickly learned this can be used to manipulate them, but was also the main hazard in attracting them. Before you make a noise that will draw walkers you had better know just how many are around.

In my recon of the nursing home, and my observation of the walker I thought of as Suzy, I had made a certain as possible that there was only the one walker in the vicinity. Yes, I was also prepared to be wrong, and had a solid back up plan, but I was mainly concerned with drawing out and taking down one walker, quickly, safely, and as quietly as possible.