Writing Apocalypse and Survival

by Jackson Dean Chase

  After delaying gratification by introducing the narrator, we cut back to action. You want to delay gratification to increase suspense, but not so long readers lose interest. Once you set up the action, don't delay more than a page or two. (Note the action is set off on its own line to stress its importance.)

  After having Derek shoot, we now delay gratification again. Why? Because we can! There are two more characters (the parents) we need to introduce. Since they weren't in the attic and unaware of what was happening, we don't need their reaction before the shot is fired, only after

  After keeping the reader in the dark for several paragraphs, we now reveal the “targets in the street” are zombies. This means the characters in the attic are survivors, not villains, and we can begin to empathize with them. The mystery is solved. Of course, we'll be setting up another soon.

  Now that the action and mystery are resolved, we can take a moment to establish the relationship between the characters. You must do this as quickly as possible after introducing them.

  Now jealousy is revealed as the reason why the narrator doesn't want Derek to be with Marnie. This creates suspense of a different kind. What is the narrator going to do about her problem?

  We get insight into Derek's good looks and disparaging remarks about Marnie's attractiveness. Both filtered through the jealous lens of the narrator, who is proving to be rather unreliable.

  Now we get confirmation of the story's timeline. They've been trapped for days, but I don't just say that, I show it through the effect the weather and passage of time is having on Derek's hair. This not only provides the necessary information, but again drives home how important superficial things (looks and comfort) are to the narrator.

  The fact the zombie apocalypse is worldwide and no help is coming is revealed here as no big deal compared to the worsening relationship between the sisters.

  Be careful with backstory in chapter one. This is a short story, so I can get away with it here, but in novels, backstory is often better placed in chapter two.

  Now we get a brief description of the narrator and seeming evidence Marnie is mean to her, but can we really trust this information from an unreliable narrator?

  The narrator has her first idea of how to solve her problem. She doesn't jump to murder yet, but to letting the zombies solve her problem for her. That idea won't work because heroes (and I use that term loosely here) must solve their own problems to make for a satisfying ending. If I let zombies eat Marnie without the narrator instigating it, I would be failing my readers. Better yet if I don't let the zombies do the narrator's dirty work and instead force her to kill Marnie herself. By the way, this story is a tragedy if you haven't guessed it already. A tragedy is any story where the hero fails to change. That doesn't mean they win. Winning is usually what happens to heroes who change, but as long as they change for the better, it's okay if they lose. For example, Rocky Balboa in the first Rocky film.

  That's enough backstory. Back to zombie-killing action!

  The conflict between the characters now comes out as a dialogue exchange.

  Derek again plays peacekeeper between the sisters, ending the argument by distracting them with the results of his latest shot.

  Here we reveal the narrator is squeamish, something she'll have to overcome if she's going to kill Marnie. Give your hero quirks and flaws, and especially contradictions, just like real people.

  Mirroring is a technique where you present another version of the characters and their problem. Here I use it to show the narrator has lost a boyfriend to another girl before, thus mirroring her situation with Derek and Marnie. Although it's more of a distorted funhouse mirror since Derek and the narrator have never been together. It's enough that the narrator wants to be with Derek to make the mirroring work. This adds to her motive to kill Marnie.

  More motive to kill Marnie. The narrator desperately wants to be loved.

  Here I slip in details about dwindling supplies, again dismissed as less important than the narrator's relationship with Marnie.

  Mirroring the “drooly-mouthed” zombies, Eric and Angela, in the street.

  And back to action. See how I keep cutting back and forth? This time, I pay it off with a dead body.

  The narrator takes this action not just to get a better view, but because it's subconsciously what she wants to do: replace her sister in Derek's eyes.

  Another mystery is established. Is the narrator right, or is she delusional? The reader is unsure.

  The narrator tries to gain control of her situation and ease her feelings of abandonment by forcing Derek to shoot zombie Angela, the girl who stole her first boyfriend.

  If Mom and Dad have made the downstairs safe, why is the chest blocking the trapdoor? Why haven't we seen or heard more from the parents yet? Another mystery!

  Derek again tries to keep the peace, but there will be consequences.

  More mirroring, this time grudgingly.

  The sisters are now mirroring each other, making it clear through body language they both see him as theirs.

  Giving zombie fans what they want: gore! It's vital you deliver on reader expectations while still giving them a little twist to keep your story fresh.

  Derek screws up by doing what the narrator wants. He does it to keep the peace, but instead this action drives the narrator over the edge from mere jealousy to murderous insanity.

  More mirroring: “drooly-mouthed,” “sucking face,” and now a “sloppy kiss.” This descriptive pattern indicates the narrator wants to physically consume Derek. She's a bit zombie-like herself: single-minded, impossible to reason with. She just keeps coming until she gets what she wants!

  This is not just gore for shock's sake. This is mirroring the misguided love and loneliness the narrator feels, as well as foreshadowing the scary length the narrator will go to get and keep Derek.

  More mystery. What's up with the parents? Is it something Derek and Marnie aren't telling the narrator? And if so, why are they holding back this information?

  Another mystery. Why is Marnie sick? Ostensibly from the food, but what if that's not it? Could she be infected with the zombie virus? Or is it something else?

  The narrator is officially crazy at this point, making connections that aren't there based on what she wants to be true. “Tasting him” also reinforces her disturbing, zombie-like nature.

  This dialogue exchange deepens the mystery of the absent parents. Note that I don't give away the answer here, but let the mystery hang. In chapter two, I use a flashback to reveal the truth, but keep the narrator in the dark because she is missing key information. I also explain her insanity. If this were a novel, I would delay at least some of these reveals longer.

  The mystery of Marnie's illness is answered here, a page after I raised the question. Any sooner would have been stupid. Always keep readers in suspense as long as you can.

  The narrator's action of placing her hand on Derek's knee is her subconscious way of physically claiming Derek in a way that a) gives her the illusion of control, and b) sends a signal she's attracted to him that she hopes Derek will pick up on.

  This time, the narrator refers to making out in a normal, non-zombie like way because, while her passion for Derek is violent and all-consuming, what she really wants is quiet, tender love. Deep down, the narrator knows she's too broken to experience that, and she resents Marnie for having it.

  The chapter ends on a downbeat note because the narrator fails to get what she wants. Try to vary each scene and each chapter so the narrator “wins” in one, then “loses” in the next. This creates suspenseful pacing.

  16

  HOW TO WRITE DESCRIPTIONS OF ZOMBIES

  GOT WRITER’S BLOCK? The following descriptions are taken from the Post-Apocalypse Writers' Phrase Book by Jackson Dean Chase. In it, you’ll find over 4,000 radioactive ways to describe weapons and wounds, road warriors, ruined cities, robots, aliens, mutants, and much, much more!

  Over 200 zombie-related ones are included h
ere:

  PLAGUE

  The plague fell like a shadow across the land

  The government told us it could never happen here

  The government claimed they were close to creating a vaccine

  Men in hazmat suits swarmed into the building

  The hospital staff had never seen any disease like it

  The news said it was a weaponized form of ebola

  The cities fell fast, but rural areas like ours remained relatively safe

  The superbug went airborne, mutating past all our defenses

  Everyone wore masks in public to avoid infection

  The first case appeared on the east coast in April

  The plague was the perfect enemy: silent, invisible, deadly

  The contagion was too virulent to be anything other than man-made

  The scientists had created a new form of life―and a new form of death

  The germs were in the air, the water, there was no escape

  Humanity had been replaced as the dominant species by a virus

  The government secretly infected millions through fake flu shots

  We sealed our doors and windows with plastic, waiting for it to pass

  Every surface had to be disinfected

  Corpses lined the streets waiting to be picked up for disposal

  They dumped the dead into pits and set them on fire

  The dead had to be burned quickly, there was no time for ceremony

  DEAD BODIES

  A bloody hand clawed out of the pile of bodies, clawing at air

  All around were the dead and dying, blood-spattered and broken

  A gore-caked corpse congealed in the corner

  Blood-smeared and shabby, the corpse was clad in old rags

  The shriveled remains were as forgotten as the victim's name

  That there were no visible wounds made the death more suspicious

  A ragged hole in the dead man's neck left no doubt as to cause of death

  The frozen bodies were stacked like cordwood

  The corpse was a blasted husk in which no trace of soul remained

  There was a look of terror etched on that awful face

  The stench of the dead man's loosening bowels hit me

  The smiling corpse looked as if she had jumped into death's arms willingly

  The bodies lay blackened and burned to ash

  The corpses were grim reminders of what might have been

  The basement was a cobwebbed horror of stacked bodies and secret hell

  The dead girl's flesh was alive with maggots

  Worms crawled over her lips like lovers

  A lone gray worm wiggled its way from the dead man's nose

  The girl was long dead, her body ripe with rot

  Her body was pregnant with the putrescence of death

  The dead man hit the ground with a sickening thud

  Of the original victims, only the heads remained

  Their bodies were propped, as if in prayer

  His blood was still, his heart stopped

  He had died as he had lived

  A soul-blasted corpse regarded him with unseeing eyes

  The grisly remains bore mute witness to the horror she now faced

  The body was rife with corruption

  Without limbs or head to match, the torso was unidentifiable

  A maniac had stitched the bodies together in a mismatched patchwork

  The corpse glared at me, daring me not to join it

  The dead were discarded mannequins, silent and immobile

  Inspecting the bodies, nearly every kill was a head shot

  The butchery was indescribable

  The bodies no longer resembled anything human

  The skeleton leered at her from its hiding place

  The dry heat had mummified the body rather than decomposed it

  They dredged the bloated body out of the lake

  The body washed ashore two days later, a bloated nightmare

  The fish had eaten away the eyes and most of the face

  The crabs had clawed away most of the face-meat

  The body lay in the field, stinking of opened guts and empty promises

  A scalpel had razored her bloodless lips into a grin wider than life

  The corpse's face had frozen in a terrified scream

  The mouth was impossibly wide and horrible in that shriveled face

  The gory remains greeted me as I walked in the door

  Buzzing flies hung like a halo over the corpse's head

  Flies crawled on the congealed ruin of her mangled body

  The hollow-eyed corpse grinned back as if making a joke

  A fat fly crawled over the corpse's ruined cheek

  Hungry maggots oozed out of putrid flesh

  Squirming minions of madness, the blind maggots ate

  The crawling things of the earth covered her like a living blanket

  Maggots feasted on the rotten remains

  Plump, juicy maggots bore holes in him, drilling for the oil of death

  The corpse in the coffin looked strangely at peace

  Even stretched out on the autopsy table, her beauty was undiminished

  The coroner cut into the corpse, searching for secrets

  Bodies in zippered black plastic were ushered into the ambulance

  The paramedics hefted the body into the waiting ambulance

  The body-filled morgue was cold and stank of antiseptic

  The pathologist pulled the steel drawer open, revealing the victim

  Dead or not, the unnatural state of the bodies unnerved me

  In death, as in life, I could not face her

  Bodies draped under sheets greeted me like old friends

  The victim's remains lay on the autopsy table, ready for inspection

  The corpse had the distinctive scars of an autopsy

  ZOMBIE GORE AND MORE

  Shambling hordes of hungry horrors descended on us like locusts

  They were undead eating machines that left nothing in their path

  With strangled cries and haunted faces, the mob lurched forward

  A lone straggler shambled into view, his face a ghastly ruin

  The shuffling of dead feet on broken glass alerted me to their presence

  The air was alive with hunger and nothing else

  It moaned and moved toward me

  Moldy lips peeled back from broken gums

  The thing was missing most of its face, but still it would not die

  A blood-caked abomination crawled into view, its lower half gone

  Creeping, crawling, the creatures came on, horrible in their hunger

  Blood drooling from mangled lips, she shambled forward

  The wind blew the stench of rotting meat ahead of them

  A low, frustrated moan came from the attacker

  I could hear the slow, soft shuffle of dragging feet on broken glass

  His clothes were badly torn, like pack of wild dogs had been at him

  A puckered hole in his neck bent and widened as he turned toward us

  The flesh tore with a wet, sucking sound

  Ghouls feasted on the remains

  Motor control wasn't the creature's strong suit

  The eyes were milky-white, clouded over

  The zombie's eyes saw only the nameless hunger of the dead

  The lips pulled back from the gums, revealing cracked yellow teeth

  She hissed softly and shuffled in my direction

  The zombie whined in surprise to find its prey snatched away

  It tried to clamber through the wrecked door

  It wanted to stuff my face into its putrid, slobbering mouth

  Little by little, the bloody strip of meat vanished between its teeth