ZOMBIE'S DOOM? Chronicles of Jack Doom

by Will Lemen

  "Your point Lieutenant?" Captain Xarr asked, stroking his chin.

  "Captain Xarr, I am sure that if the science engineers were to skew the DNA of both the members of our control groups, and the remainder of the feral canine packs with scanning directional electromagnetic plasma-pulse reconciliation beams, set to tweak that DNA 180°. It would not only erase the repulsing factor within them, but at the same time instill a loathing of monumental proportion for each other, thus avoiding the current issues that could affect the success rate, or cause the failure of our mission.

  If the level of the DNA modification is set high enough, blind rage at the sight of the opposite groups or entities within those groups would be the outcome.

  Of course, all of the test subject groups would inevitably, be directly or indirectly affected by this measure.

  Directly they would be affected in a twofold manner.

  One being that the earthers would be attacked more vigorously by the members of the control groups and by the feral dogs; and two being that smaller numbers of the control subjects and feral dogs would be attacking them because of the higher attrition rate among the two groups caused by their constant vicious attacks upon each other."

  "And why would the earthers be attacked more vigorously Lieutenant Zeem?" Captain Xarr asked, still stroking his chin.

  "Well Captain Xarr, overall the control groups in conjunction with the wild dog population would be thinned out some by their mutual hatred for each other, making the planet's surface less perilous for the test subject members per say. However, the increased ferocity of the adversarial groups will offset the drop in population of both groups, meanwhile still affording us the accomplishment of the prime directive of our mission.

  You see Captain Xarr, an air of over confidence is beginning to be observed in many of the members of the test subject groups. These members are finding the control group's lethargic demeanor less threatening, partially because of the earther's new physical prowess that their constant activity has awarded them, and partially because of their newly acquired fighting skills. The emergence of their behavior has taken place over such a long period, that the living earthers are so far unaware of the change, and thus becoming bolder and less cautious in their battles with the members of the control groups that they call zombies, among other things.

  I purpose that the new alteration within the DNA of the control groups should also be configured to change the lethargy characteristic of the control subjects, which would not only help to heighten their senses slightly, but it would also give them an enhanced equilibrium shift that would promote a swifter and more dangerous adversary for the earthers to combat.

  The enhancements in the 180° switch will be noticed immediately by the members in the test subject groups, and force the surviving earthers to fight to their full capability, and live up to their full physical and mental combative potential," Lieutenant Zeem proclaimed.

  "Make the changes Lieutenant, but be sure that you don't kill off all of our test subject groups," Captain Xarr replied.

  "Captain Xarr, there is one more adjustment I would like to make to the DNA," Lieutenant Zeem indicated.

  "And that is, Lieutenant?" the Captain inquired.

  "Captain Xarr, up to this moment, the members of the control groups have been traveling in no less than groups of two or three.

  I purpose that we reconfigure the their DNA components to allow them to travel in a singular manner if they so choose or are otherwise prone to do, not being restricted to pairs or larger groups as they venture around the planet's surface in search of the earthers," Lieutenant Zeem suggested. "That new configuration would leave less of a chance of accidentally annihilating the test subject groups under the revised ferocity factors implanted into the control groups and their feral affiliates."

  "An excellent idea Lieutenant Zeem, a kind of insurance policy for you, you keep the test subject groups intact, and at the same time you keep yourself from joining Private Jol in his chromium plated vat of deep kimchi, if you know what I mean," Captain Xarr explained.

  "Yes Captain Xarr, a kind of double indemnity or dual redundancy policy."

  "By all means Lieutenant Zeem, make the necessary changes to the control groups and to the canine corps that you have purposed, and ready the pre-extinction bipedal carnivorous creatures for deployment at a moment's notice.

  Also, add a remotely activated extinction microchip to the beasts, with an additional automatic mechanism for activating the microchip at a preset time (a timer) that will be determined at a later date" Captain Xarr ordered. "Indeed, you still may avoid Private Jol's fate after all."

  "Yes Captain Xarr, that is definitely one of my goals which is high on my list of achievements while serving as your second in command sir," Lieutenant Zeem admitted, while he wondered why Captain Xarr kept insisting on bringing up his predecessor's ghastly fortune, as he again felt his sphincter muscle unilaterally begin to involuntarily strangle his rectum.

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  THINGS CHANGE

  I was finally back on the road again after dodging the bullet one more time, the bullet in this case was really a bullet and not just a figure of speech, and it came in the form of a bull dyke wielding a double barreled shotgun. More accurately, it was double ought buck that the bull lesbian with the weed trimmer hair cut was getting ready to pepper me with, but you get the picture.

  I had lucked out one more time and as I drove along the freeway avoiding the usual masses of wrecked and abandoned vehicles, stumbling cadavers, and road kill speed bumps, I wondered just how long my good luck was going to hold out.

  Traveling alone through the zombie apocalypse was quite different than making your way through the devastation with a group.

  One of the first things that my family did when the dead population rose up and began to hunt down the living, was to make a list of things that we deemed necessary to survive in the zombie ravaged world.

  I still carry a copy of that list with me, although some of the conceptualizations listed are not feasible or indeed even possible when traversing the wastelands of a zombie Armageddon all by your lonesome. Therefore, I took it upon myself to modify them to fit my solitary needs and still try not to get myself killed.

  Below I have submitted for your consumption, the rules, or rather guidelines to live by that my family tried to adhere to during their time in the zombie nation.

  Keeping in mind of course that this list was constructed during an episode of mass panic, in the middle of a pandemic of biblical proportion, while in the midst of hundreds of flesh eating dead human's hell bent on making us the main course of their next meal.

  We did not have as much latitude to leisurely lounge around partaking in such decadent pastimes as reading post-apocalyptic science fiction/horror novels as one might think.

  No, our main goal was to survive, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, well you get the idea.

  Our list of things to do to help us avoid being...

  EATEN, DISMEMBERED, DISEASED, SHOT, BITTEN, MUTILATED, or otherwise KILLED, CAPTURED, or MURDERED by zombies, normal humans, insane maniacs, ruthless reptiles, or other diverse mentally deranged entities etc.!

  1. Watch for eaters (zombies) and rogue humans! Always assume that one is near.

  2. Never have less than two (2) guns on your person! Fully loaded!

  3. Always, have a gun within reach, always!

  4. Never, go anywhere alone, anywhere! Ever!

  5. Always, carry a backup weapon, i.e., knife, hatchet, sword, bat, etc., always!

  6. Always, keep a lookout on duty, day and night, all of the time, 24-7!

  7. Never camp out in an open area, unless it is unavoidable, if unavoidable, refer to the first six rules!

  8. Gather as much ammo as possible, check everywhere you go.

  9. Look for and take, as many guns and high capacity magazines as possible, always check!

  10. Take anything you think might be useful in the futur
e, if possible, but don't over burden yourself, you still might have to move fast.

  11. Look for food and water all of the time!

  12. Learn as much about the enemy (eaters or non-eaters) as possible, and share the information!

  13. Watch your back! Watch everybody’s back!

  Number 1 needed to be modified to read; always assume that something that wants to kill you is nearby.

  And right off the bat you can see that number 4 and number 6 are absolutely out of the question.

  Number 4 says never go anywhere alone, you are alone, so to follow the rule (guide), you either have to park you ass and never go anywhere, or do what I do and go everywhere alone (as if I have another choice).

  As far as staying awake 24-7, well you try it and tell me how that works out for you.

  The day was ending and I figured that I had maybe an hour and a half left of light to find somewhere reasonably safe to bed down for the night.

  I had been sleeping in the truck the past three nights, and doing it one more night just wasn't going to work for me if I could help it, I mean not only was it too cramped for a good night's sleep, but it could be potentially dangerous as well.

  Zombies could possibly conspire to break a window out and get into the cab but that was highly unlikely, as they seemed to be too stupid to plan anything as elaborate as picking up a stone and hurling it through a window.

  However, there was always the possibility that in their zeal to get to a free meal at my expense, one might stumble and fall headlong into the window, breaking it and gaining access to the cab of the truck.

  Another scary possibility was that a large horde of the diseased beasts would smell the delicious aroma of my pristine flesh, and surround me during the night with enough dead bodies that my truck could not plow through their masses, and I would be trapped in my vehicle for the rest of my miserable life. However long that might be?

  Another situation, although not nearly as likely, however, possible and just as frightening that could come about, is the scenario of the rogue human or gang of humans that might happen on to me while I slept, and I would wake up surrounded by a group of most likely pissed off shit-bums with nefarious intentions toward me.

  So, I decided to slow down a little and look for an out of the way place to bed down for the night that might keep me out of danger until morning.

  Looking back on the last few days, I saw that I was becoming rather caviler in my method of zombie killing, and lackadaisical in my physical security, and that wasn't sitting too well with me.

  I had once told my boys not to become apathetic in this world of the dead we now inhabit, for lethargy leads to carelessness, and carelessness will get you killed.

  And like it or not, I was getting too careless for my own good, and sooner or later my failure to give sufficient attention to avoiding harm and or errors was going to put my ass in a sling, one way or another.

  If I found myself being toted around in defecation form, by some uncouth, unwashed, unwept, undead disgusting sack of maggots, and traveling all over fucking hell's creation in the lower portion of his or hers soiled and twisted tighty-whities , well the odds of me ever catching up to the Sarge was somewhat astronomical to say the least.

  So without farther ado, I decided to find some reasonably secure digs and rethink my approach to exterminating both menacing zombies, and humans of all different varieties.

  Unbeknownst to me at the time, but the timely rethink of my modus operandi was going to save my life before nightfall.

  I was coming up fast on Nashville Tennessee as the sun was beginning to set. I wanted to bed down for the night and tackle the unknown dangers that Nashville had to offer in broad daylight, instead of risking traveling through a large metropolis during the night.

  Journeying even close to a large city was dangerous enough during the daytime, but to try to traverse a major metropolitan district in the dark was a death wish waiting to happen.

  Although I had done it on several occasions, traveling at night in any area was not something that I would endorse. It's a good way to get yourself killed, and I only did it then because of the life and death circumstances at the time. In other words, I had no choice.

  I slowed my truck down to a crawl and began to search the landscape for a suitable place to spend the night.

  My idea of a suitable place to spend the night was a mobile home, a manufactured house, a trailer, what some might call a tornado magnet.

  Many times, they are isolated to some extent, and being in a rural locality, the odds of that were pretty good.

  They are built flimsy (especially the older ones) when compared to a building with a foundation under it, and considering that I would be spending only one night there, flimsy was what I was looking for.

  You see trailers (except for the doublewide ones) are just a long rectangle with one exterior door. Although not very good for deflecting the unwanted advances of rogue humans (that's where the isolation comes into play), but when zombies pay you a visit in the middle of the night, it is rather simple to kick or chop a exit door through the back wall while your company is busy beating down your front door.

  Believe it or not, finding a mobile home in rural Tennessee is not really too hard to do.

  Therefore, my search had ended within a couple of miles as I spotted a nice cluster of three trailers perched on top of a small hill among some trees, and setting back off the road a hundred yards or so.

  An access road, which was really only two dirt tire tracks mostly covered with weeds, led me passed an old dilapidated barn and a few rickety livestock shelters that had long since lost their odor of the animals that they had once housed.

  "Probably abandoned years before the eaters came along," I mumbled to myself.

  The evening was well into dusk as I parked my truck at the far end of the first trailer.

  Vowing to clean up my act and be more vigilant of my surrounding and less lackadaisical in my efforts to stay alive, I gathered up some of my equipment that I had let be scatter around the cab of my truck, and I began to try to get organized.

  My Glock was still under the seat on the passenger's side, along with my trusty tomahawk, and my tactical vest and M-4 were still crammed behind the seat, all were where I had stashed them before entering Cassandra's sister's house.

  I retrieved my rifle and then my vest; I put on the vest, then pulled my two weapons from under the seat and placed my Glock into the integrated holster on the front of the vest and slid my trusty tomahawk through the makeshift wire loop I had manufactured for quick access to that weapon.

  With my right hand firmly clutching the pistol grip on the suppressed M-4, my left hand seized the machete that I had used to put down the raging bull earlier in the day, and I set out to clear the trailer and the area around it of any and all unwanted trespassers.

  I had hoped that being as far off of the road as this batch of tornado magnets was, that the only thing that I would have to deal with would be the occasional hoot owl or two interrupting my sleep, and maybe a undomesticated forest zombie making its way amongst the scattered trees.

  However, as usual my hopes and dream were quickly dashed on the rocks below. For as I exited my vehicle and rounded the corner of the first trailer (my chosen sleeping quarters), I ran head long into a solitary female zombie.

  This member of the legion of the undead looked malnourished (of course most of the seasoned ones do), although there was a clue that this particular piece of rotting meat had once eaten its fill many times over.

  With its crestfallen look and sunken indigo colored cheeks, I figured that it had been dormant for quite some time now, but as I approached, it was very excited to see a free meal wandering by.

  I had inadvertently supplied the stimulus to motivate this ravenous undead maniac by accidently slamming the door of my truck, and it wasted no time taking advantage of my presents.

  Besides the fact that this particular ghastly female cannibalistic fiend wa
s not wearing a shirt. And her sagging bluish-green tinted tits with dark, almost black spider veins reaching out from her mold covered nipples were hanging down and flopping against the full and leaking colostomy bag that was hanging off her right side. Which by the way, looked as though it should have burst three weeks ago.

  Seeing a flesh eater in the flesh is of no consequence.

  Pay no attention to the odd occurrence of seeing a lone zombie on the prowl.

  Forget about all of that, and remember this.

  Miss Constipated Colostomy 2002, was moving fast, faster than I'd ever seen a zombie move, and it was patently obvious that this raunchy cunt was jonesing for my tasty flesh covered bones.

  Her lanky stature and her rotting muscles and tendons were not hindering the pursuit of her prey (me) in any of the usual ways.

  Although she still stumbled and swayed as she approached me, just as hundreds of the undead had done prior to her arrival, this one was different.

  The maniacal murderous rage in her eyes was the same as I had seen countless times before, and the swarm of flies that encompassed her stench like an aura was still abundantly apparent as well.

  The elongated maggot filled drool that oozed from this thing's mouth was nothing that I hadn't had to deal with many times in the past either.

  However, the speed mixed with the smooth supple movements at which this attacking monster was descending upon me was something that I'd not previously had to contend with.

  Closing the fifteen-yard gap between us swiftly, and almost before I knew it, the ravenous cannibal was upon me.

  I leaned back, and with a quick twist of my body to the right, I narrowly avoided the feminine cadaver's first deadly lunge.

  As the zombie whizzed by me close enough to pepper me with her contrail of orbiting flies. The adrenaline fed muscles in my hand tightened even more on the pistol grip and trigger of my M-4 causing me to unintentionally light off a 5.56 caliber round into the living corpse's hip.