Friday, December 26, 2014

Defense With The BoomStick

(Disclaimer: This post is an ongoing story set in a world where zombies have taken over and people are fighting to survive anyway they can. This is my story of survival)

Year 6. Week 18.

When you get the chance to rest and reflect what comes to mind? For me and my comrade in arms it's survival.

It’s been a week now since we got out of that battle and back to Kansas City. Resting up and taking it easy now, as the amount of pain and struggle the past few weeks has been a rough one. Even after a week I'm still banged up all to hell and barely able to walk--let alone run. We're lucky to be alive and that's putting it mildly. Thinking back on that day I'm still amazed the traps worked and the way things worked out for us in general. Because there were a lot of zombies gunning for us and if our buddies didn’t show up when they did I wouldn't be writing this down.

Last week Ryan and I were preparing ourselves for a fight that would determine our own individual futures. All the traps were set and preparations were completed that left only waiting on the zombies to show up. Our nerves were about to get the better of us when the zombies hit our first line of surprises for them. As we watched a few waves of zombies hit the first line of defense, we observed them getting shredded to pieces to the point they jammed the traps up, allowing the ones behind them to get through. We were forced to fall back to the next choke point and wait for them there to catch up. The only way our plan worked was if they stayed hot on our trail and followed the route we wanted.

They are followed us like lemmings.

Suddenly there were just zombies everywhere, which put the two of us into a pitched battle of spent shotgun shells, blood, limbs and bodies everywhere. We didn’t go more than a few feet before pumping round after round of shotgun blasts into the teeming masses. Our time was spent falling back and firing until we ran out of shells and that’s when the worst part of it all began with us wading into melee combat with those undead bastards. I tell you this: when there are that many zombie bodies together in the confined spaces they smell bad. Really, really bad. Just thinking about this battle is giving me flashbacks of how close we came to dying.

I don’t think I can even talk anymore about it now, because it’s just too fresh in my mind and not a memory I want to relive. Down the road I will say more on the matter. It’s one of those things I'd love to forget, but the epic nature of it will never allow me to. I need sleep; as one nightmare has ended we're all still living in another.


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