I’m not a fan of horror shows. That’s right, I definitely haven’t watched those famous horror shows you’re probably thinking about right now.
So when I got dragged into watching the television series “The Walking Dead“, I was definitely not a happy chappy.
Apart from grabbing the nearest cushion or shoulder to hide behind so I can avoid watching the whole scene, sometimes accompanied with my fingers in my ears, I would also rambling things like “oh my god someone’s going to die”, which almost always happens, saying random things I notice in the scene like “I hate his hair” and making random zombie noises when the “hoard” comes out like “Rawgh”or “Chomp chomp chomp”.
I know, it’s annoying. But hey, if they want to drag me into this, I’m not going down without a fight! (Partly also because I really can’t help it) Even looking for a zombie picture to go with this post, I couldn’t stand seeing the non-animated versions.
But last night, the Zombies got to me…
What zombies should look like
We were living among them. Surrounded yet surviving on our limited resources. It had been months since our last attack but we knew they were out there, watching us, just waiting for a single slip-up.
John stepped out onto the porch, checking for movements past the steel fences erected 800m away. His eyes saw nothing but his gut was making a fuss. He scanned his surroundings again, nothing. Perhaps it was just too quiet, but then again, it had been a long time since he heard birds call or leaves rustling in the breeze.
Terrence and Mark joined him, eyes watchful before turning to the task at hand. A sound startled them, another thump, their screams muffled by the shuffling of feet against the porch deck and the deep rustle of cloth and flesh being ripped apart.
Our defense had been compromised.
Contrary to our common knowledge of zombies, they had evolved. They split into 2 factions. Most of them, “The Walkers”, had become accustomed to eating rodents and animals which made them less hostile to humans; but there were some who preferred the texture of human flesh and started hunting us. We called them “The Pack”. We realized that they were working together, had the ability to use tools and even seemed to have a strategy for attack.
In order to survive, we had to stay ahead of them. All of our people above the age of 10 were trained for combat, we set up surveillance cameras, had constant patrols, and reinforced our fences. It was difficult with the limited resources we had to do anything more. With the telephone lines destroyed, we tried all means of short-range communications but there was no response.
Thankfully Terrence was able to use scraps to build upon the existing solar power in the house so we could try longer range communications using the internet. We had a plan that should ensure our survival, all 30 of us; if not for this attack.
Our evacuation plan proved futile, the Pack came in from the main door and there were Zombies everywhere we turned. We shot through doors and zombies alike, trying to fight our way through. Bryan and I held hands and ran to the cars and drove off just as the Zombies reached the car. We hoped the others made it out.
I grabbed my belly. They baby didn’t like all this chaos. The car was low on fuel and we had to stop at the train station. It was risky, but it was the only way we could get to the pickup point 3 stops away. All the trains had stopped when the power went down so we had to get to the control station to start the backup generators to start the automatic train operation first. John had said it would only last a few minutes, so it was integral we got on the right line.
Bryan ran to the controls while I stood watch with the gun tightly clasped. The station was empty, at least this level was. He got the backup generator started and we ran past the gantries and down the escalator to the platform but there were two trains on opposite sides of the platform. Which one was it?
We evaded the few walkers wandering on the platform and ran into the one closest to us. “It’s not this one” Bryan panted, shortly after entering, grabbing my hand as we made our way out of the train. We dashed up the escalators to get to the opposite platform which should then take us to the eastern side where the pickup was.
It was a 5 carriage train filled with walkers, staring into space. We stepped in just as the door closed and found a seat at the far end of the train. As we tempered our panting and movements, a walker turned its head towards us.
That was odd, they usually kept their eyes to the ground, looking for smaller creatures. We stared at the unblinking eyes. A few more heads turned and then a slow shuffle of feet. The train beeped the 2nd stop. I held in a scream from a deep pain in my belly, it was as if the baby knew what was happening.
We slowly checked our guns, praying that we could reach the third stop before the walkers reached us. They inched closer every minute. The platform of the third stop was now visible. My hand gripped the rail as I felt another convulsion and I prayed the backup generators would last just a little more.