by Roger Ma
Dismembering the Undead
When employing an edged weapon in melee combat, you may experience the urge to begin hacking away randomly at your attacker, turning it into a pile of chopped zombie detritus. This tactic seems to be taken advantage of most often by individuals who suffer from PUCT or have recently experienced intense emotional distress from a zombie attack, such as the loss of a friend or loved one. Resist this inclination, as it is not encouraged for several reasons:1. The undead feel no pain: Although you may believe that you are delivering some form of “human justice” by slicing your opponent into ribbons, hacking off the arm of a zombie does no more to injure or inflict pain than tapping it on the shoulder. Your opponent will remain unfazed and continue its attack. Save your energy for a single, finishing strike.
2. You amplify the risk of infection: You may contend that severing a zombie’s hands eliminates its ability to grab you. This is true. By cutting off its hands, however, you have only eliminated its means of grabbing you, not its desire to do so. Instead of two groping hands where the infection is somewhat contained, you will have two infected, gelatinous stumps reaching for you, leaking contagious fluid. Remember that the second-highest cause of infection results from contact with existing wounds on a walking corpse. Any laceration you inflict that does not result in threat neutralization causes an open sore packed with infectious tissue, making the ghoul a more hazardous opponent.
3. It is overkill: Just as smiting the top of a zombie head with overwhelming force may be overkill, so is excessive hacking at melee range. Using an edged weapon in undead combat requires that you keep your blade sharpened and ready at all times. By using your weapon to dismember rather than eliminate a target, you not only waste precious time, strength, and energy, you create more work for yourself once the engagement has ended by needing to rehone your blade’s edges. Your objective in any zombie combat situation is to end it as quickly as possible, not to prolong your encounter out of rage or personal satisfaction. Any strike that does not contribute to stopping an attacking ghoul is an unnecessary one.
Combat Techniques
Many of the strategies detailed in long-distance combat such as the Musashi and the Blindside can also be used in melee-range encounters. Some specific techniques particular to this distance can also prove very useful for fighting the undead while at the same time avoiding the fatal funnel.
STRACIRS TECHNIQUE
TARGET AREA: TEMPORAL, NASAL/ORBITAL, OR OCCIPITAL REGIONS
MOST EFFECTIVE WITH: BLUDGEONS (MACES, HAMMERS, CLUBS)
Technique: One of the simplest techniques to employ at melee range to neutralize your attacker while steering clear of the fatal funnel is the StraCirs (pronounced “STRAY-cers”) technique. This technique is composed of three movements that will keep you clear of the zombie’s primary threat zones while creating options for your own attack. As you enter melee range, a zombie will most likely have its arms extended, hands grasping for you, attempting to grab your body—at which time, you will begin the first movement:1. Strafe: Your initial move should be to side step, or “strafe” left or right of your attacker. This word in this context originates from the first-person shooter (FPS) video game genre, meaning to shuffle side-to-side while keeping your torso constantly facing the same direction. The intention is to move out of reach of the zombie’s grasp while not losing sight of your opponent. Do not turn away from your attacker during this movement. At melee range, zombies have been known to lurch suddenly in an attempt to grab their victim.
2. Circle: Once you have strafed to either side, begin moving in a circular pattern around your opponent, ending at the left or right side of your attacker; you could continue circling until you end up directly behind it, but this obviously requires more time. By moving in a circular pattern, you are taking advantage of the zombie’s lack of coordination. A normal human attacker would most likely pivot at the same speed and in the same direction should you attempt to outflank him. Using the ghoul’s lack of speed against it, you are able to remain out of reach while exposing several prime anatomical targets for your assault.
3. Strike: Once you have circled your opponent and find yourself in an advantageous position, you have several target options. Depending on where you complete the movement, the occipital region, the temporal region, and the nasal/ orbital region are all available targets. Remember, the zombie does not possess the intellect to block an oncoming blow, so choose whichever target suits your weapon best. Strike quickly and decisively.
As you become proficient in this technique, you will be able to combine the first two movements into one smooth transition, known also in gaming terms as the circlestrafe.
As we covered in the discussion of weapons, you will employ one of two kinds of armaments at melee range—either a blunt instrument or an edged weapon. Bladed arms, such as a sword or machete, tend to be less effective at direct strikes to the zombie cranium. Blades have a tendency to either glance off the skull or embed themselves deeply in the head of a zombie after your blow. Striking the hard cranial bones can quickly dull your fine cutting edge. With an edged weapon, a more efficient strategy is to decapitate your opponent.
As the act of fully decapitating an opponent is much more difficult than most people realize, we have developed a technique similar to the StraCirs maneuver, but specifically designed for edged weapons.
THE LUMBERJACK
TARGET AREA: NECK AND THROAT REGION
MOST EFFECTIVE WITH: BLADED IMPLEMENTS (SWORDS, MACHETES, AXES)
Technique: Watch any woodsman’s technique as he is in the process of felling a tree, and you will note that he does not hack away at an identical spot on the trunk over and over. Rather, he approaches his target from several angles, “notching” the log before splitting it all the way through, thus minimizing the likelihood of his tool becoming wedged and speeding up the entire process dramatically. You can use a similar approach with an edged weapon against the neck of the undead:1. Circlestrafe: Just as in the previous blunt-trauma-weapon maneuver, your first step should be to shift out of the ghoul’s fatal funnel.
2. Strike: Chop the neck with your blade, making sure you use an ample amount of force to inflict a deep, severe laceration.
3. Repeat: If your initial blow does not sever the head from its torso, do not panic. Circle approximately twenty-five degrees and strike your target a second time.
4. Finish: Repeat the preceding sequence of maneuvers until your undead opponent’s head is separated from its body.
Using this technique, most individuals are able to finish the engagement within two to three strikes. Should you find yourself unable to completely separate the head from the undead body, you have at least seriously compromised the ghoul’s ability to retaliate. Most important, you have kept yourself out of danger during your offensive attack. Remember, the severed head of a zombie requires a final, terminating blow to the brain.
COMBAT REPORT: LEE ZHEN
Shaolin Monk, Mount Song, Henan, China
I’m escorted up a craggy mountain trail by a brigade of warrior monks armed with Chinese long-pole weapons. Along the route, we hear the moans of several roaming zombies that have sensed our oncoming presence. Before I can even see the ghouls in the distance, the scouts in our party dash ahead and eliminate them before they are within a hundred yards of our position. Finally, we come upon a clearing that looks to be a large, well-tended vegetable garden. Monks and villagers work side by side to help cultivate the young, delicate shoots. It is here I am greeted by Lee Zhen, the Shaolin monk chosen to speak with me because of his command of English, which is remarkably good. Lee explains that he learned the language mostly by watching rebroadcasts of the American television show Hunter on CCTV. “Growing up, I wanted to be Fred Dryer,” Lee tells me as we sit down for tea while watching the work in the fields continue.
LZ: Most people in the outside world, even within the main-land, had a misunderstanding of the Shaolin lifestyle. Many believed it to be an austere existe
nce, one filled with fetching water, tending wheat fields, and hours of meditation, similar to what they saw on film and television. They thought it was, how you say, that phrase young people say meaning traditional, established?
ZCM: Old school?
LZ: Yes, that’s it. They did not realize that, just like the rest of China, the monastery had adapted with the changing times. We had cell phones, an e-commerce website, even a reality television show. Though many did not completely agree that this open adoption of modernism fit well with the historical spirit of Shaolin, no one argued that it brought additional funds to the temple, helping us prosper. It was not technology, however, that brought the living dead to our attention, but the will of the Henan people.
As you can imagine, the spread of information by public broadcast was somewhat restrictive in those days. Early outbreaks were attributed to dissidents, radical factions, Falun Dafa, and the like. It was at this time when we began receiving individuals at our gates, fearful of what they had been hearing from family and friends in other cities. It was a trickle at first: the lone farmer, a street vendor or two. This trickle slowly began to expand into a river. At this point, there were still limited actual sightings of any walking dead. But there was a feeling in the air; the people sensed it. Something terrible was soon to be upon them.
Finally, the dam burst. People by the dozens arrived daily, some already with their heads shaved, women and children included, wearing bedsheets tied into makeshift robes to show their devotion and commitment, anything to allow them to enter. We took them all in. At this point there was no covering up the situation—reports of infection were reported in Beijing and Shanghai and quickly spreading to the smaller outlying cities. Those with money—and there were many—fled the country to take refuge in the neighboring islands—Taiwan, Malaysia, the Philippines. But those who came to us for help, these were the ones without the funds, without any means of escape.
ZCM: Why not reach out to the government, or approach the local officials?
LZ: You’re not very familiar with how things work here. There’s an old proverb that says “Qiang da chu tou niao”—“The bird that sticks out its head gets shot.” In this particular case, there was fear that the phrase would be taken literally. Besides, the government was too focused on major urban areas. They had no time or desire to help those left in the countryside. Soon, the temple’s sleeping quarters, training rooms, and courtyard were filled with crude tents, structures, and bedding from the hundreds who came to us for help. Many of them were ganranzhe,15 weakened and frail. There was a concern among many of the monks that we would not be able to feed or care for everyone, especially those who were already sick. When confronted with this situation, the abbot simply replied, “Many of these people were forgotten by our country once already. Let us not have it happen to them again.”
Early on, before any of us realized what he was doing, the abbot was laying the foundation for his plan to manage the dire situation he knew would be coming our way. When villagers first began arriving at the temple, he quietly delivered messages to former students who were now employed in surrounding cities as bodyguards, security officers, and policemen. He also sent envoys with messages to the heads of kung fu schools within a two-hundred-mile radius of the temple. I am unsure of the specific content of the communication, but within days, many of the top students of various schools arrived. The abbot assembled all of the guests and the most skilled and senior of our monks together to articulate his plan.
ZCM: His plan?
LZ: For half a fortnight, the abbot met long into the evening with various groups within the temple. At the time I was busy doing as I was told—feeding and tending to all the incoming refugees—so I was oblivious as to what exactly was happening. I did see many groups of monks coming and going from the temple at all hours of the night, many carrying tools and supplies. This went on for several weeks as we continued to receive countrymen by the wagonload.
One day when I awoke, nearly all of the villagers were gone, as were the guest students and roughly a quarter of the monks. It was after morning prayers that we were all finally told of what was to happen over the next several days. Roughly forty kilometers north of the temple lies a vast, open field where we often would assemble, meditate, and train. To the north of the field is the Yellow River. Mountains lie to the west, and fifty kilometers to the east, the city of Zhengzhou. The field is an idyllic place, an ideal location for the abbot’s intentions. We set out on foot and horseback just after breakfast, and arrived just before nightfall.
There was an odd smell in the air as we approached our destination. When I set eyes upon the field, I could hardly believe what I saw. A large bamboo platform had been erected, upon which sat two of the large meditation bells from our temple. Alongside the bells were racks upon racks of weapons from our armory. Each of the top instructors from the temple and neighboring schools was responsible for dividing us all into groups based on a single weapon class. We had teams wielding spades, axes, spears, broadswords, and a multitude of other weapons. It was then I noticed that most of the villagers were also present and separated into their own group, including many of the sickly ones. Given their lack of formal training, they were given their own choice of weapon, many selecting a simple cudgel or broadsword. Some preferred to wield a farming tool they brought with them. Everyone then sat down to dinner. When the meal was finished and the tables cleared, one of the bells was rung three times, and we all began to chant.
Our chanting continued unceasingly throughout the night, pausing only to punctuate the repetition with the deep gong of a meditation bell. The sounds echoed off the mountain ranges to the west and south. Then, just before daybreak, we began to hear them. The sounds were faint and low at first, barely audible above the sound of the wind gusting through the trees. Slowly, they began to grow louder in volume, as the air began to fill with a pungent odor. They were approaching from the east, just as the abbot had planned. The moans began to crescendo as they drew closer, blending with our chants into a single, horrific chorus. As hundreds of walking corpses began to wander onto the field, we rose from our zazen positions and prepared for battle.
The abbot summoned onto the field the first wave of monks equipped with polearms: spears, spades, and axes. Of all the hours we spent on the battlefield that day, this initial moment was the most dangerous. We heard many rumors about how to deal with this unknown enemy, none of which we knew whether or not to believe. Strike the head, strike the heart, remove the head from the body—all of these techniques needed to be tested during these critical first minutes. Several of the monks ran through their opponents with the seven-foot long qiang, only to have the creatures pull themselves down the length of the shafts to continue their attack.
We soon realized that head strikes and decapitation were the most effective. Those armed with yuèyáchán16 and broad axes were well prepared to sever heads from torsos. I witnessed Li Baobao, the monk most skilled among us all with polearms, decapitate seven bodies with a single whirl of his guandao,17 as if he were channeling General Guan Yu himself! The monks needed to watch where they stepped, as the heads of the creatures continued to snap at them from the ground. The abbot then set loose other waves armed with shorter broadswords and bludgeons to follow alongside their long-range brethren. A rhythm began to develop between the ranks, where a polearmed monk would decapitate an attacker and then kick its head back to the short-range ranks to deal a final blow. It was quite a spectacle—rows of fighting monks, whirling, flailing, and striking. Our flowing, brightly colored robes presented a fiery contrast against the dulled landscape of thousands of walking dead.
The most impressive, however, were the ganranzhe. What they lacked in technique, they more than made up for in tenacity, especially the women. The abbot was cautious about sending them into the fray, but once engaged in battle, it is with no exaggeration that I say they fought with the fury of a thousand dragons. I believe it was because of the frustration they felt; not ab
out having to leave their homes or their livelihood, or even about the living dead, but the faith they held that their country would help them in their time of need. That belief was tested twice in their lifetimes, and twice they were let down. They battled with a reckless abandon, with no concern for their safety or survival, and suffered greatly for it. Many I saw simply dove straight into a mass of creatures, flailing away until they were bitten, and then continuing to fight until completely overcome. Maybe that was their intention all along. Perhaps losing your life is less of a concern when you ultimately feel in control of your fate. Whatever the case, it was an epic battle, the most spectacular since Wengjiagang. Truly a valiant loss.
ZCM: Loss?
LZ: I use that word in the traditional sense that the dead were not vanquished that day. Nor was that ever the intention.
ZCM: What was the intention?
LZ: The abbot was a man of peace, but he was not naïve. There were seven million people in Zhengzhou alone. Even if only one half of one percent of the population was infected and made its way toward the sound of our chants, they would vastly outnumber our own ranks that day. His greater purpose was to use this situation as an opportunity to test both our weapons and our will. It had been almost five hundred years since monks of Shaolin had to confront an enemy in mortal combat. And this enemy was different from any we had ever faced in our history. These were not pirates or bandits. He knew that facing these adversaries, of whom we knew so little and who looked not like hardened fighters, but very much like the same, poor countrymen that fought alongside us, could affect the monks’ ability to do what was necessary.