Day 306 – The Realities of the Horde

Well… Shit.

I was really hoping to end February on a high note. Before we begin, we are all safe and whole. We haven’t lost anyone. That is the good news.

Now for the bad news. I have theorized about it but we never actually witnessed it until yesterday. A massive undead horde just shambled past the store. I mean massive. Words cannot properly convey the size of this group we are talking about. It must have been tens of thousands.

This is my speculation on how this whole thing shakes out. Let’s take a city like Dallas, TX. Probably a population of over a million people. And that is not counting Irving, Plano, Arlington, Ft. Worth and all those surrounding areas. Let’s say that whole city falls and half the population die in such a way that they can be turned into zoms. So, now we’ve got 500K. Half of that population is outside and mobile. 250K.

Somewhere amongst this group is an Alpha Male. Using his alpha powers of perception, he knows that the meat is all used up in the city. There is not a living being left to be found. So, he gets a bug up his butt and just makes the decision, “You know what? I am heading north.” And he just starts walking up Highway 75, which becomes Highway 69, and lead you up to Adair, OK.

(I have not been north enough to properly speculate on this scenario but, if it helps you, swap out Dallas for somewhere like Kansas City or St. Louis.)

So this shambling alpha is moving like he has a purpose. The other zoms see it and start shambling with him. I imagine this is like an avalanche. The farther it goes the bigger it gets. A dozen zombies all moving in the same direction might not kick up much of a fuss in an entire city’s population. But as more and more join the cause, more and more are likely to join the cause.

The horde comes rolling through Adair. They are growling and hungry. Zoms in Adair, with no other stimulation or reason to stay, rise up and join the horde as well.  I think this is how you could have entire small towns cleaned out.

Now, let’s say that this theory is correct. Well, at some point, one of these massive hordes has to come rolling past. We would have to see one eventually. And we finally did yesterday. We heard them coming and smelled them coming first. Lance and Hunter were up on the roof and called everyone up to see it.

Now, he did not try to call attention to ourselves. We still have the “Bobs” staked out there. We cannot tell if they slowed down for them at all. The horde came down Hwy 82 and then turned east on Hwy 28. I cannot tell you why they turned instead of continuing south but they did.

Even if we brought our entire supply of ammo up to the roof, I don’t think we could have snipered the whole horde. I could not imagine coming across a group like this on the road. Unless you were in a steamroller, a tank, or an armored car, I don’t think any car would hold up to this. If you drive so slow that you don’t get high centered on a pack of zom bodies, there would be so many assaulting the windows and the rear of the vehicle, eventually, you are going to get overtaken.

Despite the Bobs and the distance, there were a few of these things that turned in our direction and worked to breach the perimeter. We used the silencers to drop them fast. They did not kick up enough of a fuss to turn the horde and bring the rest of them down on us but it was enough to generate genuine concern.

Thankfully, they moved on down the road with minimal incident. But a horde that size, I could see them overwhelming the defenses of a single house. Thankfully, we are protected more than most. I don’t know what we would do if we met them on the open road. This is why you cannot drive at speed of 90 mph up over a hill.

Your only hope would be to turn around and outrun them. But these shambling hordes are very real. You have been warned.

Day 305 – Zombiology 101: Deteriorating Physiology?

Oklahoma never really has deep, deep Minnesota winters. I never understood the panic in people and how they would flock to the grocery store at the first sign of snow. It never sticks around for more than a few days. But still, we are seeing an increase in the temperatures already. It is still cold as all get out, especially at night. However, during the day when the sun is out and shinning, the temperatures are easily getting above freezing. In short, we are starting to thaw out. And if we are thawing out, it means the zombies are thawing out too.

We have started to feel a distinct presence looming about, as if numbers are lurking about now, just over the horizon. Perhaps it could be a migratory pattern but we get the impression that as we are thawing out, Langley is not quite as empty as it was before we battened down the hatches for the winter. Time will tell.

However, yesterday, there was a shamble of zoms milling around out back. It wasn’t so many that we couldn’t handle them but it was also too many to just leave them outside your back door. Keeping with the theory of conserving ammunition and not revealing out position with loud gun shots, we had a kill crew go out to put them down along with cover fire from the roof (if necessary).

I would like to equate our success with the fact that we are getting better at putting these things down but no one had to resort to pulling firearms. Not a single shot needed to come from the roof.

I’ve never worried about being squeamish on here before sooo… When a baseball connected with one of the zom’s skulls, this thing imploded like an overripe cantaloupe. I would say a normal human skull might recoil and bounce around from a strike. It was like this thing was rotting at an accelerated rate from the inside out and when Luke made contact… Boom, blood and snot central.

And it wasn’t just that one. Maybe they were not all the way thawed out yet. Maybe their circuits were scrambled from the freezing temperatures. But they moved with a certain sluggishness. I don’t want to overstate things here but we put them down easy despite how aggressively they came at us. They walked right into it.  

So, as we were disposing of the bodies in The Pit, I took a closer look at some of their physiology. Something seems strange. One zom had some exposed bones. We were taking all the necessary precautions, wearing the surgical gloves and the chainmail gloves from the Meat Department. The fluids that was in this thing’s body seemed to be more along the lines of molasses than blood and the bones looked like they were covered in pockmarks and seemed more porous than normal.

Alex and I have come across cow bones when out in the back pasture before and those things could have been shaved down or turned into some pretty lethal melee weapons. The bones from these zoms are brittle. It feels like you could snap them over your knees if you wanted to.

Does this strengthen our theory that we just have to outlast these things?

Day 304 – A Normal Life

The more conversation I have with Yulonda, the more I like her. She is funny and she has a kind heart. She is also prone to some fairly comical outbursts. I have found that in this time, the only thing you can do is surf the crazy wave and let her just rage out. You let her rant and rave and let her get it all out of her system. Then things go back to normal. I am sure you all know someone like this.

Yesterday, “Yolo” – the kids call her that and I refuse to acknowledge that stupid phrase – was ranting about just wanting a “normal” life. I am sure that if we could time travel and drop in at any point in human history in darn near any culture, you could find someone wishing the same thing. I think you have to search amongst the lower-middle class people where they have a house and car but just not very nice ones.

I seriously doubt the wealthy and upper class want “normal.” And I often feel that those truly destitute and homeless are there because of some really bad life choices and wouldn’t know what to do with “normal” if they had it thrust upon them.

Now, part of me wants to go the Geordie LaForge route and ask, “What is normal?” Is normal simply what people have grown accustom to? Take a person from before all this began and drop them back in the 80s. No internet, no cell phones, no satellite TV. They would probably call that world hell. But then have them choose between 80s America and Zombified America.

I agree that the basic necessities for humans will never change. People need food, shelter, and transportation. On an emotional scale, we need to connect with others, live, and love. Those themes will never change.

But this? This world?

Let us imagine that this zombie menace cannot be easily stomped out or ever fully eradicated. If that is the case, then Alex’s generation will be the LAST generation that will remember life without this threat. The generation that comes after – let’s say if Kasondra and Brad have a kid – they will never have lived in a world where this threat is right outside his front door.

Let’s say we get this thing contained to a point where humanity is back on the winning side and life gets back to the way it was before but the zombie threat is still lurking. Does Mommy get Little Johnny’s checklist ready for school. “Here is your book bag, homework, lunch box, and zombie killing stick.”

I was told that kids in Israel used to carry gas masks in their backpacks for fear of chemical attacks. Was that just normal to them because that was all they had ever known? If you drop a peasant farmer from north of Pyongyang in the middle of the Vegas strip and reveal it all with the dramatic ripping off a blindfold. Would their brain leak out of their ears not believing that such a world was even possible?

Will kids of the next generation just scoff at our stories? “You mean there wasn’t a time when you had to outrun undead cannibals, Dad?” Will it all just be normal for them? Regardless, if Kasondra and Brad decide to have a kid, think they have to name him John. Or Connor. Or John Connor Chambers. Some variation of that. Maybe he will be part of the “resistance” that successfully reclaims humanity if we don’t do it first…  

Day 303 – FoS: The Illusion of Success

Way back when, we developed this Year One plan as a way of giving people a goal to focus on so that we were just not wandering aimlessly. I am the type of person that likes to have lists. It helps keep me organized and it can also give you a feeling of accomplishment to look back on all the work you have done.

There are also the joys of having an Advent Calendar for Christmas. Kids use that as a big dramatic countdown to their favorite day of the year. On Day 300, we decided that we are officially on the downhill slope. So we took advantage of the dry erase board up by the old time clock. We have officially started counting down the days to the end of Year One.

I know it is not some magical day where all the zombies are going to reach the point of critical mass and they all collapse into unmoving heaps. I know that in the world in which we all live, Year One seems just like a random arbitrary number but to all of us, surviving a full 365 days in this waking nightmare is pretty darn impressive.

I cannot tell you why it is so impressive or why the human mind feels a compulsory need to celebrate such achievements but if it can keep everyone out of the doldrums and give us all something to focus on… Well, why not do it?

Again, time is something that we have an abundance of. And Alex and some of the girls have taken to getting pretty creative with the daily changing of the numbers on the dry erase board.

It is one of the few changes that we have made to the store as of late, so I guess this essay does qualify as a Fortress of Solitude entry. I am not certain what else to say about the store that has not already been said.

Our supplies are still holding out. We have had more than a few flickers and brown-outs but the power is still holding. We still have the 5,000 gallon propane truck parked outside with the couplings attached to the emergency generator if necessary.      

Day 302 – Temps on the Rise

Moderation in all things. Remember that one, people. And here in Oklahoma, that is pretty much what we are getting – moderation in temperatures. The temperatures are back on the rise. I am too lazy to get up in check but I don’t think it is even dropping below freezing at night now. I guess this would be one of those times where one of those wise farmers would cut into a persimmon or some such fruit, look at the seeds, and say, “Spring is going to come early this year.”

I think everyone is ready for warmer temperatures and being able to go outside without bundling up like an Eskimo. It will probably do a lot for morale and help us banish out the cabin fever that we have been experiencing lately. This weekend, Brad, Lance, and Hunter came back with a portable basketball goal. A quick break in at Ketchum schools and they literally brought back a dozen basketballs. I am not certain why they needed a dozen but I wasn’t going to question them.

Right now, the guys have the goal set up on the front end in the wide void created by the removal of the registers but they are already talking about moving it outside when the weather starts cooperating.

Of course, there is the flip side to this coin as well. It means the zoms will be thawing out too. I still feel that we are remarkably prepared. The parking lot perimeter has given us a pretty big advantage. The guys even have fall back and contingency plans in case they are breeched suddenly. Emergency exits on the roofs of the school buses can get you to the roof in times of crisis. And here, hopefully soon, I will be able to shift our focus to a more offensive mindset.

I have to wonder if the rest of the world (or at least the northern hemisphere) is sharing in this attitude. I would say we have been besieged long enough. I wonder if this is the coming season where humanity reclaims the planet…

I guess the best we can do is wait and see.

Day 300 – Even the Best of Friends…

Years ago, when I was a kid, my dad had a job where he called on schools selling science equipment. If you used a microscope or dissected a frog, there was a pretty good chance you got that equipment from the company my dad worked for. What this meant is that for three months out of the year, he didn’t have any clients to call on because everyone was out for summer vacation. So my dad bought a small boat – I won’t call it a yacht – and we would go to the Bahamas for two months at a time.

My sister and I were either three years or four years in age difference depending on the time of the year. And that age gap is pretty substantial. A sixteen-year-old wants nothing to do with a twelve-year-old. A ten-year-old wants nothing to do with a six-year-old. So needless to say, my sister and I did not really get along very well.

Like all relationships, that changed when we got older but at the time, man, you thought it was World War III in our house at times. But during that two months, when there are four of you on a 24-foot boat and there is nothing in a full 360-degree view but water, you learn to get along. You have to or you go crazy.

I think we all more or less agreed to this social contract the day we locked the doors during Zero Hour.  I know it doesn’t make for very juicy gossip or exciting reading but the truth be told is that our group has always gotten along. There is very little “drama” amongst our small little family.

Again, I think it has to go back to that external threat. One of my favorite television shows was a program called Married… with Children. It was one of the most dysfunctional families on television where it seemed like they all hated each other. There were constant fights and arguments amongst Al, Peggy, Kelly and Bud Bundy. And yet, when that external threat reared its head against any member of the family, all the other members would come rushing to their defense.

If it was just all of us trapped in this store for an arbitrary reason, I imagine we all might not be so civil towards one another. But since that crushing, ever-present threat is always lurking right outside the door, I think it keeps all of us galvanized for that united us-vs.-them front.

But even the best of friends can be tried and tested. And I think everyone’s patience is starting to wear a little thin. I have witnessed more than a few dust ups. It is not brawls or fistfights. Far from it. But you can see where people’s patience is running thin regarding things that might not have bothered them six months ago.

It is like the tolerance is not as high as it used to be and all those little idiosyncrasies are becoming more annoying than others. It is like when you date a girl. In the beginning, all those little things don’t matter but slowly, as time progresses, those little habits start to become glaring things that really grate on your last nerve.

I think we have all been cooped up for too long. The short days don’t help. The cold weather is hanging around a little longer than people like (even though it is to our advantage).

But still this is Day 300. In theory, we only have 65 days left to go and then we will reach the end of our Year One Plan. Maybe a countdown calendar would do people some good. 

 

Day 299 – Urinating Off Your Back Porch (Yep, this blog is classy.)

So, at the start of the week I told you about the plan with the sirens. If you missed out, we snagged a few SUVs from the Langley police station. Before the freeze goes away, the plan was to use the sirens to try to lure out any LIVING beings that might still be holed up somewhere inside Langley.

Not every plan is a home run. We saw zero survivors. No one came out of any of the buildings, businesses or homes. I guess it is not a huge surprise. I mean, really, after this long of time you would think that some survivor would make their way to the best place in the whole town to get some food. I guess the thing is if they were going to make their way here, they would have done so by now.

Okay, so this does not seem like a really big deal on paper. (Or on a computer screen as this case is.) But I want you to stop and think about this. Langley was a population of around 800 people. 800 people gone. Wiped off the earth. AND we are the only living people in approximately a nine mile radius.

We have not gone for explorations in Adair, Spavinaw, Disney, or Vinita. But it is fairly safe to say that we are the only living people in a nine mile radius. This is Oklahoma. This is not Montana or Alaska where there are vast stretches of unpopulated areas. And to know that there is NO ONE else around in this entire town, it is fairly disconcerting.

Where I used to live, our home was pretty remote. I had a massive cattle pasture as my backyard. If I was out working in the yard and I had to take a piss, I didn’t run inside. I would barely do a look around. Just whip it out and do your business. My theory was if someone came down the road and could see it from that distance, hey, might as well be proud of it.

If I were so inclined, I could walk out to the intersection of Highway 28 and 82 buck naked and no one would see me. A fairly major intersection where there used to be streams of cars rolling along… and now, nothing. And if you go out there now, it is weird because the traffic lights are still going. I don’t know how Langley still has electrical power but I am not looking that gift horse in the mouth.

I could not imagine walking down the streets of 71^st and Memorial down in Tulsa and see zero living people. I have commented before on how the world has gotten quieter without everyone running around. I could not imagine being down in a major metropolis and having everything be stock still quiet.   

It is just one of the major changes that you have to deal with during this whole thing.

Day 298 – Zombiology 101: A Little Scouting Mission…

Way back when in one of these articles, we talked about a zombie’s keening. These things are dumber than a bag of hammers and they are running on the most basic of instincts. We have seen hordes of these things roll through and their numbers can be downright frightening. As of yet, we have not been witness to a breaking up of a horde. I imagine that if an F-4 Phantom came cruising down a stretch of highway and dropped napalm on them Vietnam war style, things might be different but it is of my opinion that once a zom gets in with a horde, they are not leaving. They are in that herd mentality and think, “Let’s just shuffle this way since that is where everyone else is going.”

But this is also what I have discovered. Every time we have seen a horde roll through, there was always a precursor. There were always scouts moving ahead of the horde. Obviously, they were less “degenerated” than their fellow brethren. They didn’t move fast but they certainly moved faster than the collective horde.

Now I am about to revisit a pretty painful memory but it is important. At this point, all of us have become accustomed to these sounds that the zoms make. They never shut the freak up. They are constantly making noise, even if it is some wet, gurgling noise that comes from their pseudo-breathing.

But back when those zoms broke through the trash compactor and got a hold of Janet, there was a different noise that they made. It was the “I found food” scream. And that scream is loud, long, and echoing. What is more, it whips all the other zoms around them into their “I want a piece of that” frenzy.

I think those scouts head out ahead of the horde and their alpha male leader searching for potential food sources and those scouts could be the ones guiding their direction. I think regardless of if they scream or not, the horde is just going to keep relentlessly marching along but those scouts could be like a rudder on a boat, steering the horde in directions.

Here in lies the problem. You have to start getting aggressive. Scouts entering your area could turn a horde right to your doorstep so the ultimate solution is to take those scouts out as quickly and as quietly as possible.

The larger the horde, the more scouts you will see advancing ahead of the horde. One lone zom out wandering in a field may not be a precursor to a horde. Five or six? There is a chance they could be coming. Obviously a rapid succession of gun shots and vehicle noise will drag them to you just as quickly as a zom “I found food” scream. So be mindful. But this is certainly one of those “ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” scenarios.

There are times to run away. I think that was eight months ago. Now, if you want to survive, you have to be “defensively aggressive.” Strike quickly but be able to retreat quickly back to a safe place and hole up.

Good luck.

Day 296 – Baptism of Fire

Years ago, I remember being told the story of a man walking through the woods and he came upon a butterfly chrysalis that was about to hatch. Thinking to help the butterfly along, he very gently helped open the cocoon with a pocket knife. The butterfly emerged and promptly died. It seems the butterfly gains it strength to fly by forcing its way out of the cocoon on its own. So the man, while trying to be helpful, ended up hurting the butterfly by not allowing it to struggle.

There are probably dozens of analogies like this. Gold is purified by fire. The sword is made strong by being pounded between the hammer and the anvil. Kids learning to swim by being tossed in the deep end.

I am still sticking with my Great White Shark metaphor. If you don’t want to get bit, don’t go in the water. But right now, the metaphorical ocean is all around us and if Alex wants to go out and swim, he has to learn how to deal with the predators. I think there is a sanity in keeping him safe but he has to learn to embrace fear and not let it paralyze you. It is one thing to talk about it. It is one thing to imagine it. But when a shamble of zoms is bearing down on you, it is a whole other thing.

I remember Fred Cox’s first words to Alex when he started weapons training. Pointing to his pistol, he said, “The second you don’t respect this, it kills you.” Zoms are the same way. Killing your first one is tough. Knowing what we know now, if I were to toss you in a pit with one, you might be overcome with fear. What if it bites me? If it bleeds on me, do I become infected?

And that fear might cause you not to act. I think most zoms are deteriorated down so much now, no one sees them as human beings anymore. They are threats to be eliminated. I think in many ways, it would be like a rookie NFL player strapping on the pads for the first time. Imagine the nervousness of that player. Now compare him to a ten-year veteran of the sport with two Super Bowl rings.

Zoms are like firearms. They must be respected at all times. But if Alex is going to learn to deal with these things, we need to advance him beyond the rookie jitters. Unfortunately, the only way to do that is to put him in harm’s way.

I wasn’t ready for that. He is my son. My baby boy. I want to protect him at all costs. But in doing so, I am actually hindering him. He has to learn how to defend himself and how to engage these zoms so he can be prepared for his inevitable encounters.

It is one of those things. I hate the idea of putting him in danger but I hate the idea of him becoming a zom even more…

Day 296 – Returning From the Great Unknown

We made it back. Safe and sound. Batteries acquired. Alex was a professional. I will write more on this tomorrow.

Day 296 – Into the Great Unknown

We are headed out to Pryor with the sortie team to get bus batteries. If this is my last entry, I think you can assume the worst.   

Day 296 – Fight the Power! You’ve got to Fight the Power!

Well, we have a problem. The batteries on the buses have not performed as well as we would like them to through the cold weather. If we are going to set out across Oklahoma in these things looking for a safe haven, some of the more mechanically inclined individuals are suggesting that we get new batteries and even some spares to stash inside the fuel bus. I figure it is better to be safe than sorry.

Unfortunately, the crappy little Napa Auto Parts store here in Langley does not stock what we need. So the crew wants to make a run to Pryor. Pryor has three national chain auto parts store which should have more than enough supplies for our sojourn into the great wide world and I seriously doubt that bus batteries are high on the Looter’s Top Ten lists. 

I am not really comfortable with this plan because the last time we made a run to Pryor we lost Fred. So that is strike one. Strike two? Alex wants to go with them. I know that I have stuck with my Great White Shark analogy all this time. (If you are late to the game, my theory is that the best way to avoid being attacked by a shark is to not go in the water.)

Taking the group outside exposes us to the threat. I am not a fan of exposure. (Unless you are Kate Upton. Boom! See what I did there?) But maybe there is something negative about shielding him from the world. I mean what if something happens to me. He needs to be able to take care of himself, defend himself.

And you can talk about taking a zombie down but talking about it and doing it is two completely separate things. Even now, if you are reading this in a zombie-free zone, I know my words cannot do it justice. Or you may think that it is not that big a deal but when the pack is shambling towards you, it is a whole other animal. Especially if there are 13 zombies and your clip only holds 10 rounds. You are going to have to reload knowing there are going to be three more bearing down on you.

Perhaps exposure is the best thing. Maybe killing a handful of these meat bags would start to acclimate him to the process. Don’t get it twisted here. I don’t want to sound like I want him thinking this is normal or develop a blasé attitude about it. You have to stay frost in this game but you have to find a way to control that fear. And dipping a toe in the pool on a run to Pryor might be better than jumping in the deep end if we have a massive breach of security.

I will bring it up with the group and see what they think. This could be one of those damned if you do/damned if you don’t type situations. I think the biggest problem is that my son’s life hangs in the balance. And that is a pretty scary thing to consider. More to come…

 

Day 295 – The Siren’s Call

I know what you are going to say, “What are they, nucking futs?” But, over the weekend, we were kicking around ideas about re-arming the tornado siren. Trust me, the idea was dismissed just about as soon as it was brought up and that lead us in a similar line of thinking but with a better idea.

As it is still very cold and zombie activity is at a low rate, so if we were going to do something like this, it had to be now. The goal was that we wanted to get our hands on a cop car, a fire truck, or an ambulance. Lance was convinced that he could rip the siren out of the vehicle and either mount it on a short bus or the top of the store. Stick with me.

The goal was to cruise through Langley with the siren blaring. With what is left of the zombies in town now popsicles, it would be the best time to let any other survivors out there know that we were here. Look the odds of someone being hold up in a rural farm house or maybe living off all the food and supplies in a gated community like the Coves would be entirely plausible if they were the only family still alive.

Is it possible that there is a family of survivalists out living on the land? The odds are slim but it is possible. We were thinking of a way that we could broadcast our position to let people know we were here.

Yes, it does open the door to potential altercations with people who may not be as amicable as we are… but that is a choice everyone is willing to take. If you have lasted this long in the zombie apocalypse, it is not because you are lucky. Lucky is six weeks. You don’t get to this stage of the game without skill. And those skills could benefit our group.

So the mission was on. Langley is small time but not so small. We have a fire house, a full cop force, and an EMT station for 911 to dispatch. Sure, we looted those places for what was left of their supplies after it got freezing but no one thought to loot a siren. The goal was to go at dusk. And here is the kicker…

Alex wanted to go.

I cannot blame him. We have been cooped up for quite some time. Being buttoned up for the cold weather has not helped. I was not a big fan of the idea but I knew Alex wanted to go. The only way I would agree to it was if I went with him. 

So the crew was Eric (weapons/experience), Kasondra (weapons), Lance (tech/navigator), Kimber, Alex, and me. Kimber wanted to get out the store and I was genuinely surprised at how well she handled herself. We did this on Sunday night.

No one fired a shot. Zombie encounters were limited to one inside the EMT station which was dispatched quietly by Lance. We got two of the police SUVs fired up and drove them back to the store, parking them inside the perimetered parking lot.

Lance is going to work today to get one of the sirens powered and mounted up on top of the store. We might be able to use it to signal passersby if we need to and the group is planning patrols of Langley and the surrounding areas before the thaws.

Yesterday was a good day… More soon.

Day 293 – From “What If…” to “There but for the grace of God”

Yesterday got me thinking and that led me to wondering. Now, I do have a bit of a disclaimer here. I promise this is going to me my last “lamenting for what was” article. I don’t want to voice these concerns to the group because I don’t want to bring everybody down. So I will post it here so I can get these thoughts out of my head.

Star Trek had this theory called IDIC, which means “Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.” Basically, take every choice you have ever made in life and somewhere out there is an alternate you in an alternate dimension that made the opposite choice. If you had a choice between going to OU and OSU and you chose OU, somewhere out there is a “you” in an alternate dimension that went to OSU. And if a person were capable of observing this alternate dimension, they could see how differently their lives could have transpired if they would have made different choices.

I mean you could get down into the minutiae of your decisions. “Should I go to McDonalds for a McGriddle or Carl’s Jr for a Texas Toast sandwich.” Yeah, life’s choices are harder than others.

I think the major tent poles in people’s lives are Career, Marriage, and Children because those three events shape your life the most. Part of me often wonders what different ways my life could have gone. I find it is best not to dwell on such things because it is wasted energy. And yet, I think everyone can grow curious about the different avenues we could have gone down.  

You could look around and say, “What if I would have done this?” What if I would have finished college? Would I have been making a six figure salary for a Fortune 500 company? What if I had tried meth? Would I have ended up in prison? There are some paths that you could look upon and say, “Why didn’t I get that life with the big house and the supermodel wife?” And then there is the darker side of that coin where you can say, “Hey, at least I am not THAT guy.”

Of course, futility has a way of creeping in. Like what happened to us 293 days ago. What if I was working in an office building down in Tulsa instead of in a highly defensible grocery store with a plethora of food? There is a very real chance that I would be dead right now and my son fending for himself. Or I might not even have a son. I might not have a legacy to carry on the Mathews name.

But I often wonder, where would we all be if not for this zombie apocalypse? Surely, Janet, Becca and Ashlynn would still be alive. Would Audrey have lived out her dream of marrying Lucas? Jennifer is far too good looking. For all I know she could have been married and working on a second child. Eric could have gone on to be a detective down in Tulsa or Broken Arrow busting up drug labs. Justin might have been granted his own store or become a regional manager at the major pharmacy chain he worked for. That is the thing, you just never know.

But again, there is that darker alternative too. Kanen, Lance, Hunter, even Joe or Luke or Kasondra. They are all young kids relatively speaking. Maybe the zombie apocalypse was the best thing that ever happened to them.

Maybe this whole scenario spared them of tragedies like divorce, drunk driving accidents, drug addictions… And that is the thing. We will never know. But I think about that a lot. I know. It is wasted energy. But I still think about it… 

Day 292 – Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess?

I know. I know. This is the part where you think that I am going to condemn all the commercial aspects of Valentine’s Day and how it is a made up holiday. And maybe back then when the world was normal, you were probably right. I guess the thing that irked me so much about the holiday was how little was done for men.

A guys was always expected to show up with flowers, chocolates, jewelry, book the restaurant three months in advance and make HER feel special. Now, I am not complaining about this because way back in the day, I was this guy. I did these things. Okay, I didn’t do the jewelry thing because I poor but you get my point.

What was the woman’s responsibility? “I’ll wear something to show off cleavage at dinner and then I’ll give him some.” That is it. So how is this different from your average Saturday night? Those were the things that I did not think were fair. Dudes are rarely into things like flowers. I think buying flowers is dumb because they are dead in a week. But for Valentine’s Day, why couldn’t a woman grace her husband with a nice bottle of scotch, a video game, or the latest DVD?

Wow.

I almost deleted the above paragraphs. Because here I am bitching about something that is so nightmarishly irrelevant in the world we live in now. Imagine John Q. Smith was running from a horde of zoms, hauling his wife by the hand, and they come upon our store. And this happens today. We let them in, hauling them through the Produce Door. We give them food, water, safety and some Neosporin and a bandage for his wife’s scrape that she got when she stumbled on the road. And then I sidle up beside him and whisper to him, “It’s Valentine’s Day. Did you get your wife some chocolates?” He would look at me like I was positively insane.

I mean is it all just distractions? February is cold. The day is short. Maybe someone said, “Hey, February is pretty miserable. Let’s put a holiday in there where women can get sparkly gifts and the men get a little hibbity-dibbity. That should make everyone happy, right?”   

I guess one could argue that those types of distractions are the ones that make life worth living. Otherwise, life would just be a grind of work and bills. Without things like the NFL playoffs, World of Warcraft, the new Brad Pitt movie, or running around looking for the right Valentine’s Day gift for your wife, all of life becomes a grind. And sometimes, it takes a complete and total collapse of civilization as we know it to make us appreciate all those dumb and mundane things.

I miss those things. I really do. I don’t necessarily miss her but I miss doing things like that for someone. I guess the question is do you allow yourself to be vulnerable in the zombie apocalypse. You know full well that anyone could be lost at any moment. The same was true before all this went down… it just wasn’t in your face as much.

Life is precious. Maybe it is time for me to quit being alone… Even if that makes me vulnerable. 

Day 291 – Zombiology 101: Amputations

I thank goodness that we have not had to broach this subject yet… but I am not certain how we handle this. Amputations.

We had a discussion around the table about what would happen if a person is bit on an extremity. Okay, this conversation actually came about after Jennifer got scratched but let’s just say we stumbled across the topic organically. Okay?

     Jennifer: “What are you guys all talking about and why are you holding a machete?”

     Us: “Oh, you know. No real reason. How does that scratch feel?”

     Jennifer: “It is kinda starting to hurt.”

     Us: “Hold her down.”

Yeah that is going over like a lead balloon. So here is my thought process on Kharon and amputations. I think that it is only delaying the inevitable. Immunizations and vaccinations actually pump a weakened version of a virus into your system so you can make antibodies.

Realistically speaking, I cannot see how there can be any sort of immunization for the Kharon virus. Even getting the smallest trace amounts in you would be a death sentence. That single cell of Kharon is going to multiply in you and eventually shut down your organs so that you die and reanimate.

I will admit that I am not a doctor but this thing gets in your blood. How long does it take for your blood to fully circulate through your body? Wouldn’t one heartbeat do the trick? I have to think of this thing like cars traveling on a freeway and your blood vessels are the highway.

I would have to assume that this thing does not spread from organ to organ shutting you down. Given the severity and how quickly the mortality rate of this thing is I have to assume Kharon goes after anything and everything.

I guess it is possible but you would have to be lightning fast with the blade. And I am not certain people would survive the trauma of having a limb hacked off. I don’t think it is quite as simple as Hollywood leads us to believe.

Given how Kharon makes people hemorrhage like crazy, I could not see us stopping the bleeding. I am betting people would bleed out if you attempted it. Still, I guess it is worth a shot. After all, with Kharon, you ARE going to die. With an amputation, you MIGHT die. I just hope that we never come across that situation.

Day 290 – It Really Is The Little Things…

I like to think that I have been pretty honest in this whole blog thing and I see no need to hold back now. It seems like a lot times this week, I’ve caught myself thinking about my wife. Not so much thinking about her as my wife but thinking more about me as a husband. I guess it is because on this week – if this were the real world – I would be developing my plans for Valentine’s Day.

Now, admittedly, way back when, I did not give the whole nine yards every holiday. I tried my best but it is hard when you are living on limited means. But I still think I tried my best. I remember this one year that I had the financial wherewithal to provide my wife with a number of gifts and romantic trinkets. It was nothing dramatically over the top. It was mainly thoughtful, romantic stuff. This translates into silky pajamas, a nice collection of roses, a thoughtful custom card, and cubic Zirconium earrings as opposed to g-strings, edible body paints and handcuffs. It was the more traditional Valentine’s Day stuff. It was nice, somewhat elegant and as expensive as I could afford.

Everything that I bought was a reflection – a symbol – of my love, if you will. The  pajamas were silky and comfortable but not sexy dirty. I bought earrings I thought she would look nice wearing. A rose that says, “I love you.” Dorky stuffed animals that are cutesy and fun. I did all this to say, “On today of all days, I love you. This is a small reflection of my love for you.” Those were my exact intentions as I perused the “love aisle” at Walmart. Yeah, that I was balling so much I could afford Walmart.

And I suffered for this. I remember as I was walking around the women’s department looking for pajamas and undergarments, I was getting some pretty strange looks and the ladies working said department. There was the inevitable “Can I help you find something?” I was smart to have all the hearts and flowery things and stuffed animals already in my cart that I could point to and say, “Valentines Day shopping for my wife…”

But the point of all this is that I went to task this holiday with the best of intentions in my heart. Sure, I was anticipating a little carnal reciprocation, but I went into this wanting to show my wife how much I love her. What I did NOT do was purchase said items saying, “Well, this ought to keep her from bitching.” Or “This should get her to shut up.” Or “This should keep me out of the doghouse.” [All of these phrases I heard from pathetic husbands who were shopping last year in a GROCERY STORE for gifts for their significant others.]

I always said if you are grumbling these sentiments as you are passing over your money at the cash register, chances are your whole life is in the doghouse. Why? Because you were doomed from the start. That pathetic looking rose and the half-eaten box of chocolates was not bought to be a symbol of love. You bought it so you didn’t have to hear her gripe… And, to me, that indicates problems on both ends of the relationship.

Of course, my marriage ended up in the toilet so you can come back and say, “What the hell does this guy know?” But, man, I miss doing stuff like that. And I guess on today of all days, it got me thinking about all the stuff that I have lost. I think about all the stuff we considered to be important that has been taken from us. All those menial, trivial things brought me a tremendous sense of pleasure.

It makes me wonder if my priorities were out of whack. Or maybe they were right all along. I will admit it. I miss all that meaningless stuff. And I am also tired of being alone. 

Day 289 – Fortress of Solitude: Panic Zones

In every horror movie where a group of people are trapped inside somewhere, they always seem to have a fall black plan. “If they breech this line of defense, we will fall back here.” The tough and plucky sergeant is always telling that to the troops as he is pointing to a map.

For a time, we considered building an Alamo type structure inside the store in case we were breeched. Inevitably, this plan was abandoned. We never came to this because we have already broken the cardinal advantage against the zoms themselves by barricading ourselves within this store. We have taken away our advantage to outrun them.

A smart zombie professor teaching a class would tell you to just outrun the zombie threat or the zombie terror. Those would be wise words. The problem is we are in the zombie apocalypse. As Nina Simone once asked, “Oh Sinner Man, where you gonna run to?” That is the million dollar question. You can only run for so long. Eventually, you have to sleep. You have to eat. So we are in the right here by barricading ourselves inside.

If a shambling horde were to come by and let’s say they are smart enough to move the cars barricading the door and manage to push their way inside. Once they are inside and see us, they are going to be issuing their “We found food!” keening wails that is going to draw even more of them to us.

The number one priority in that situation (after staying safe) is sealing that breech. It doesn’t matter if we can kill one hundred zoms if there are 10,000 more waiting to stream inside. Hiding in an Alamo is only delaying the inevitable.

And it is one thing to go off the radar when we are out of sight and out of mind. That would not happen with zoms if they are inside the store. They would constantly be searching for us and tearing things up to get at us.

In the unlikely event that this does happen, that we experience a full blown breech, everyone knows that your target goal is the Ice Cream Freezer. The top of the ice cream freezer can allow us to get to the roof. The roof does offer us security because we know zoms cannot climb. And from the roof we can get to the buses and that is when we leave it all behind. And we move on down the road.

But if it comes to that, it is because something horribly wrong has happened, like someone driving an armored truck or a tank through our front door. And if someone has a tank and they want our little grocery store, uh, yeah. They can have it…

  

Day 288 – Trying to Stay Upbeat

I am trying to look for a bright side. Truly, I am. Even before all this happened, I was aware that my sand was creeping out of my hourglass. It was strange. Despite the fact that I had a teenage son, I never felt old. For all I know, my attitudes might have changed after I reached forty where I might have been wandering around the parking lot of the same job I had in high school saying, “What have I done with my life?” But I never really felt… old.

Sure the joints creak a little bit in the morning when it is cold but I always felt like I held a youthful soul in my heart. Like wringing water out of a sponge, it seems like that vitality is being drained from me with every loss. And I am not going to lie. Luke is a hard one to take.

I don’t know. I guess I just had this mental image of Luke and I going the distance. I had friends in high school that I was close with and I held Luke in that same regard as those guys. Believe me. That is saying something.

For him to be gone… to be here one day and gone the next… I think that is the hardest thing. I know that this can happen with anyone. And it has. Becca. Janet. Ashlynn. Tommy. Judy. Audrey. 

But Luke is different. We are all close in here. Even the new arrivals. I have bonded with Eric and Justin just as much as the people who were locked in during Zero Hour but everyone has people that you relate with better. Hunter is going to have more in common with Kanen and Lance than I will. That is just natural.

Luke was one of my closer allies. So this one stings more than most. You tell yourself. You know. In the back of your mind, you know. Anyone of us could be gone at any time. You mentally steel yourself for that possibility.

But no matter how much you prepare, no matter how much you imagine it, sometimes you just cannot prepare for it until the actual event falls in your lap. And when that happens, the best you can do is deal with it as best you can.

Day 286 – Saying Goodbye to a Friend

This is one of those moments where I don’t want to say, “I told you so” because I don’t want to be right. Okay, so these are the facts. The Will Rogers Turnpike has an entrance at Adair that leads you on a pretty straight shot to Tulsa. Not much of the landscape has changed on that front. Adair is a ghost town and the boys experienced no sign of life or unlife while on the Turnpike. There were a few abandoned or broken down cars along the way. Some of the cars were apparently swerves off the roads and then stuck or abandoned. But there were no signs of people.

A few years ago, there was some pretty massive construction to feed the turnpike traffic into Tulsa and the Port of Catoosa. That area is snarled with what Eric described as a tanker explosion. A crash involving a gas truck, an explosion and a subsequent snarl of metal has left the massive off ramp effectively blockaded. But beyond the barricade, there was a plethora of shambling bodies.

Choosing to turn around, the group circumnavigated through Verdigris to make their way through Claremore. Now, if you remember right, Claremore is where Brian and Kelly were from and the reports they brought with them was that the town was overrun. However, Eric is saying that the place is a ghost town now. Before, Claremore was a pretty expansive community with a local college and lots of commuters choosing to live there and make the drive into Tulsa to work. Just off hand, I know there is/was a Walmart, several pawn shops, an archery store, and at least two pretty nice gun shops. These are all prime targets for supplies.

Apparently a crew in Claremore had decided this as well and had already taken up possession of such things. And they defended the Walmart parking lot with more of a “shoot first, ask questions later” mentality. Apparently this group – these Others – have not adopted the Us vs. Them attitude that we have. According to Eric, it is them versus everyone and anyone.

I am trying not to judge them. It was one thing for us to defend this store. I cannot imagine the fight to take back an prime piece of real estate like a Walmart in the middle of an overrun city with a highly dense population. For all we knew, those guys spilled guts and lost family members to stake that claim and were not about to give it up to rampagers and pillagers. Maybe I am trying to justify their actions so I don’t hate them. I don’t know.

But while Eric was slowly circling the parking lot, the ambush from the roof was apparently pretty substantial. The SUV is compromised and I think they are lucky not to have lost tires or taken slugs to the engine block. But luck aside, Luke took was hit.

Hunter said he didn’t go fast but he was not writhing in terrible pain. They applied pressure and did their best but he passed away just this side of Foyil.

He was my friend. No one made me laugh like he did. He was my brother from another mother. And I wasn’t there when he died. I wished them luck and told them to come back safe. But it was not enough. It was just that quick. Here one minute. Gone the next. And for what?

He was killed by some jackals who didn’t want to have their stuff stolen when we have so many supplies that we wouldn’t have even wanted their stuff in the first place. We could have combined resources or even offered trades. But no. Nice job, humanity. Way to instill faith…

Day 285 – Tulsa Report

Luke didn’t make it back. Tulsa is gone. The highways in via turnpike are clogged with an impassible traffic jam. Remember the warlords I postulated a theory on? Apparently they control Claremore.

Cannot type. More tomorrow. I promise.

Lost Member: Luke Asbiller – 28, Male, Jay, OK

Day 285 – The Tulsa Sojourn

A small crew is headed out today to investigate Tulsa. It is a group of Eric, Lance, Hunter, Luke, and Joseph. I think Brad is itching to go but Kasondra feels the same way about Brad as I do about Alex. Eric is more than competent to lead the crew and all five of those guys are no stranger to guns and even melee combat if necessary. I am still not 100% sold on this idea but Tulsa is home to the 138^th Fighter Wing for the Air National Guard. Perhaps that group was able to rally after Justin and Eric made their escape. I guess it doesn’t hurt to look and with Eric being a beat cop, he knows every side street and back alley in Tulsa, so I am sure he can navigate them properly.

I would still feel better if they were in a tank or at least had a cow catcher welded to the front of the SUV that they are taking down. There are just too many things to go wrong.

I am hoping I get to write a good report…

Day 284 – Zombiology 101: A Definitive Guide to Decomposition

Well, s**t.

Apparently we know less than nothing. We managed to get a few websites pulled up after the zombiology entry of last week and it turns out all my theorization was for naught. As it turns out rigor mortis is the result of chemical changes in the muscles after the death. It starts about three or four hours after death and the corpse is at its stiffest (giggity) after 12 hours. BUT! The rigor mortis gradually dissipates after 48 hours. So clearly, rigor mortis is not an issue.

But I managed to find an article about animal decomposition.  I know this is not the best display of leadership but I am keeping these facts from my fellow survivors. I am not lying to them but I am just not openly telling them these facts that I have discovered. It is not because I am a jerk, I just see no reason to bring them down. Okay, so let me break it down.

Decomposition begins at the moment of death. Autolysis is where the tissue of the body is broken down by the body’s own internal enzymes. I have a theory that possibly the Kharon virus prevents autolysis from taking place, slowing the decay.

Putrefaction is where the tissue is broken down by bacteria. I think this is the biggest thing we have going for us. Okay, so the biggest things that speed in decomposition are bacteria (money), fungi (I don’t see how that is happening), and scavengers. Note: We have yet to see maggots growing on zombies and when we are disposing of their bodies, we have yet to see insects infesting their bodies. Scavengers (buzzards and such) don’t touch these things, even after they have been brain panned So it is something along the lines of the scavengers having some sort of sixth sense regarding Kharon infected meat and they know better than to eat it.

So what we are looking at is the only decomposing agent we have working in our favor is the bacteria. With this, it means that the one year plan that we discussed earlier could be wrong. There are certain elements that do contribute to decomposition.

It is proven that bodies exposed to the open elements will decompose faster but that is mainly because a body in the open is more susceptible to insect infestation. Insect infestation is not an issue for zoms.

Temperature is a huge issue for decomposition so the summer time in Oklahoma was a huge help for us. Winter time, not so much. The availability of oxygen, humidity, and rainfall are also an issue too. If a body is wearing clothing that can have an effect but I cannot imagine us running around and undressing a bunch of zoms to get them to decay faster. The surface on which a body rests is supposed to be an issue but these guys don’t rest a whole lot.

Now, one curious factor that is an issue on decomposition (according to the article is) “foods/object inside the specimen’s digestive tract (bacon compared to lettuce).” The article did not go into if it is better or worse to have bacon or lettuce. Lettuce will rot much sooner than bacon (I would think). So could eating all that human flesh slow the decomposition?

But the article also had a thing called Casper’s Ratio. Casper’s Ratio states “if all other factors are equal, then, when there is free access of air a body decomposes twice as fast than if immersed in water and eight times faster than if buried in earth. Ultimately, the rate of bacterial decomposition acting on the tissue will be depend upon the temperature of the surroundings. Colder temperatures decrease the rate of decomposition while warmer temperatures increase it.”

One of the biggest variables is flies. The more flies, the faster the decomposition, and from what we have seen, flies have no interest in zoms. They say invertebrates can reduce a fully fleshed corpse to clean bones in under two weeks. But in extremely dry or cold conditions, the normal process of decomposition is halted.    

So, without flies, scavengers, and maggots causing these bodies to decompose, maybe our yearlong theory is not a long enough timeline. We will just have to see what happens when we come out of this winter. 

Day 283 – Considering a Tulsa Investigation

The crew has decided that they want to try to make a run into Tulsa. I will admit I am not crazy about this idea. Driving to Adair or Pryor is not as big of a deal. Realistically speaking, if something went wrong with your vehicle, they could probably hoof it back to the store from Adair. It is only 10 miles or so. Even if it took a few days and it meant hiding out in a barn or farm house for the night, they could make it back. Making it back from Tulsa, all the way on foot would be tough. I suppose spare vehicles could be acquired but after sitting for this long in a pretty cold winter, starting them could be an issue.

They just want to see what the major arteries are like. And as I have mentioned in the past, bullets are a prime commodity these days. Walmarts, the Bass Pro Shop, gun shops, they might all be ripe for the picking. They may have already been picked over. It all just depends on how quickly Tulsa fell. And there is a National Guard base down there. For all we know, it could be a strong hold.

And if they are going to go, now is really the time to do it. The cold will work to our advantage with the zoms and right now, it is just the cold temperatures. We are not dealing with any precipitation that makes travelling difficult.

I know Alex is going to petition me to go. It is not going to happen. It is too far and too many things could go wrong between here and there. We are not jumping in the ocean with the Great White Shark unless we have to and cabin fever is not a justifiable enough reason.

Don’t get me wrong, we have been chewing through the supplies. It is nothing over the top. I don’t feel like we are going without anything. Sure, you can always use more bullets and more guns in this scenario but the risk/reward levels are just not there for me. It is not justifiable.

That crew can go if they want to but I will be staying here. I know this could probably paint me as a coward but I would rather be an outlasting coward than a dead person thinking they were going out a hero.

Fred died a hero. Becca through herself into the line of fire when Janet was attacked. That was heroic. Going out just to see what is out there doesn’t seem very necessary to me.

I will be totally wrong if they show up with a military convoy or rescue personnel and I will be the first to admit it. But as of right now, I think this is a mistake.

Day 282 – Cavemen vs. Abstract Thought

Yesterday, late in the afternoon, we had another small caravan of cars come past. It seems we are not alone in our theory of winter being the safest time to travel. You combine this with the plane fly-over last week and you start to think that maybe we are going to survive this thing after all.

The small caravan slowed down as they passed us, you could see that they were contemplating and then they drove on. I will be the first to admit, this place is pretty darn secure and looking at us from the outside in, we do not look very inviting. There is no welcome mat on the front porch. Oh yeah and we have de-limbed zombies staked to fence posts in the gully out front. Yeah, real inviting.

Our supplies are holding out. We are still doing well. Toilet paper is still in ready supply despite being 282 days into this walking nightmare. Once that runs out, you know we are really in trouble. But in all reality, we are set pretty good. We have an abundance of food and water. Entertainment to keep the mind occupied. And we have a high enough level of security where you can sleep soundly. In fact, supplies are still going so well that Janet’s “care packages” are all still intact.

In case you forgot, one of our deceased members put together care packages of emergency supplies for travelers that came past. The group was cool with it as long as she used the generic brands. Travelers get the Always Save and store brands. We get the Cottonelle with the ridges and aloe mixed in.

Truth be told, if that caravan would have stopped, I think we would have handed off supplies in exchange for new information and maybe a little companionship. I cannot lie. I would welcome new people at this point just so we could have a change of pace and a “recharge” for the group. 

But then the “What ifs?” start playing up in your mind. I just have to assume that there is some warlord out there who is taking what he wants through strength of arms. Patton Oswalt had a really funny bit about that if I remember right. It was about how the biggest and strongest came to rule in the caveman era.

In this scenario, bullets are the number one currency because with them, you can pretty much take everything else that you need. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe the brute force cavemen had their time when this thing all started and eventually were overrun and consumed.

The next level to survive and outlast the mighty would be the clever. Those that have brains and could survive that initial onslaught (like we did) would be the ones to most likely be accepting the theory that it is us vs. them in this world now.  And those people would have to amicable to trade and friendly relations. After all, teamwork is the only way we survive this thing…