by Mogk, Matt
On July 30, 1945, the USS Indianapolis was torpedoed and sunk in the Philippine Sea. Of the 900 men who abandoned ship, only 316 were still alive when rescue planes spotted them four days later. Though the constant threat of shark attack is what brought the ordeal global attention, as recounted by the fictional salty sea captain in the film Jaws, dehydration killed far more people than the sharks:
First your mouth turns to cotton. Your saliva turns thick and bitter, until it disappears altogether. You become aware of your tongue as a fat, dry thing barricading your air passage. Your throat dries out until you can’t talk, and you feel a massive lump in your windpipe, forcing you to swallow again and again, and every swallow is painful, but the lump won’t go away. Without tears in your tear ducts your eyelids begin to crack, and you might weep blood.38
The survivors of the Indianapolis remember the mass delusions suffered by their fellow sailors. Men thought the water was fresh just below the surface. Some thought they could see land and swam off to their deaths. Others were sure that the water fountains on the sunken ship would still work. Dozens of men dived down all at once, never to be seen again. Ocean survival is clearly a unique situation, but even if you can find fresh water to drink, water-borne illnesses might pose as deadly a threat as having no water at all.
January 12, 2011, was the one-year anniversary of the devastating earthquake in Haiti that killed an estimated 300,000 people and crippled the country’s already weak infrastructure. Even the presidential palace was reduced to rubble. But one year later, nearly every news outlet in the United States reported that the biggest threat to the lives of those who survived was a lack of clean drinking water.
David Walton is deputy chief of the Haiti mission for Partners in Health, a nonprofit relief organization. Speaking about the proliferation of cholera, he says that hundreds of thousands of people contracted the disease within months of the initial disaster, and once the problem starts, it’s almost impossible to control:
If cholera was introduced into the United States tomorrow, it wouldn’t take root because we have great sanitation, we have potable water. If you look at a place like Haiti that is one of the most water-insecure nations in the world and one of the nations that has some of the worst metrics in terms of sanitation, this is the perfect setup for cholera to both spread like wildfire and set up shop for years to come.39
Walton’s assessment is based on a functioning sanitation and municipal water system continuing in North America. But if systems fail in an undead outbreak, as will likely be the case, we in the industrialized world will find ourselves at serious risk of dying of dehydration caused by diarrhea and vomiting associated with any number of water-borne diseases such as cholera and dysentery.
AVAILABLE SOURCES
If you haven’t stocked up on water in advance of the zombie plague, then you’ll be on a forced march to find a ready source almost immediately. Common strategies include filling up bathtubs while the taps are still flowing, collecting rainwater, and looking for available pools.
The average home water heater holds 50 to 75 gallons, or 6,400 to 9,600 ounces. In simple terms, an adult male should drink roughly 64 ounces of water per day. So once the heater water has been properly purified, it should provide enough drinking water for two people to be fully hydrated for at least fifty days.
Start by shutting off the water and gas to the building. This may be contrary to instinct, but the danger of contaminated fluids compromising your existing reserves outweighs any potential benefit. Next, locate the building’s water heater. It’s a large metal tank, usually in the basement, utility closet, or laundry room.
Even if you have a tankless water heater in your own home, chances are you will find yourself on the run and hiding out in new and unfamiliar shelters before too long. Water boilers can serve as lifesaving wells in the dry urban-desert landscape.
Shane Painter, author of The Urban Survivalist Handbook, recommends finding a plot of open grass in the early morning when other options fail:
Now take a sheet and begin dragging it over the grass to collect the dew. As the sheet becomes damp you can wring it out into a bucket. Depending on how big an area you are dragging you could get up to a gallon of water per day.40
In testing, this technique produced wildly varying results depending on climate and location.
Adequate drinking water is essential to buy you needed time to fashion weapons, communicate with other survivors, and develop a solid plan for escape or further fortification. It also prevents you from dying in just a matter of days.
PURIFY YOUR SUPPLY
According to the World Health Organization, 3.5 million people die each year from water-borne illness across the globe. In a zombie outbreak, even the fresh-looking water coming from a working kitchen faucet may hold sewage backup and other deadly toxic substances. It does no good to locate a ready source of water, such as a plugged gutter, rain bucket, or toilet bowl, only to have unseen microbes incapacitate anyone brave enough to drink. Boiling water is a solid option but not always possible. So what’s the answer? Drink bleach.
Mixed in the correct ratio, unscented bleach added to water can kill any unwanted contaminants and render the source safe for human consumption. In rough terms, half a tablespoon of bleach mixed into five gallons of clear water (or 2.5 gallons of cloudy water) should do the trick. Stir in and let sit for thirty minutes. If the water does not have a chlorine smell when finished, add more bleach.
So, next time your buddy says that all he needs is his doublebarrel shotgun and enough ammo to blow every zombie’s head off from here to Cleveland, tell him that you’re going to invest in a bottle of bleach instead, and you’ll pray for him after he’s killed by diarrhea-related dehydration from drinking the tainted water in his badass camouflage commando canteen.
If you’re inclined to prepare your water-purification kit ahead of time, there are dozens of different filters and purifiers that can be easily found and purchased through a simple Internet search. But for solutions on the fly, coffee filters are good for cleaning turbid or muddy water, or even spare clothing such as socks. Most important is that you assume that all water is in need of purification before drinking and take any steps at your disposal to purify it.
KNOW YOUR ZOMBIES: FLYBOY
Dawn of the Dead (1978)
As a helicopter pilot and one of the last remaining humans on earth, Flyboy is an unskilled survivalist who can’t even shoot straight when his life depends on it. Played by David Emge, Flyboy goes from leading man to cult favorite zombie, lurching around in one of the most distinct zombie walks any actor has ever created.
Depicted here with a baby, Flyboy never gets to see his unborn child in the original film, but there is a zombie newborn in the Dawn of the Dead remake of 2004.
ILLUSTRATION BY THOMAS BROERSMA
17: PROTECTIVE SHELTER
In a zombie world, as in any extreme survival situation, the idea of shelter has to be thought of broadly. Shelter is any external protection from that which might do you harm. Forget about sleeping snug in your own bed or crashing on your neighbor’s couch. Forget about pulling over to a roadside hotel after a long, hard day of travel. When the dead walk the earth, Motel 6 may quickly become a luxury beyond your wildest dreams.
Instead, think of shelter as an abandoned parking lot in the middle of a burned-out city. It’s a fallen tree in the woods to shield you from harsh winds and rain. It’s a pile of discarded roof shingles in the back corner of an old trash depot or the crawl space behind a sewer drain grate. Shelter is even the clothes on your own back or a found beach towel cut into strips and wrapped around your aching, swollen feet.
We lived on canned food and we listened to the radio in the dark, listened to static when that was all there was, hoping to hear of shelter somewhere, real shelter.
—Dead Man’s Land (2009), David Wellington
SURVIVAL CLOTHING
I love zombie movies. I love the classics. I love the new stuff. I
even love the crap that nobody else loves. And I understand that zombie movies are meant to entertain, not to provide sound survival advice, so it’s unfair to judge them against real zombie-outbreak scenarios. Nonetheless, I’m always struck by the flawed actions that survivors in zombie movies continue to take long after learning the relevant facts about the threat they face, especially when it comes to clothing. Their critical errors in judgment and preparation inevitably cost more lives than the zombie menace would on its own.
This issue can be summed up in one simple question: If you were facing a deadly viral threat that could infect you with just a single drop of blood in your eye, don’t you think you’d at least wear sunglasses?
In Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, a gang of survivors has plenty of time to spin whimsically around an empty, fully stocked grocery store, debating the merits of different types of liquor and chocolate, but somehow the concept of ducking into the sports shop across the street and grabbing a pair of ski goggles and maybe some racing leathers completely escapes them. What’s more, the tough-as-nails lead female repeatedly hacks infected attackers to death wearing little more than a T-shirt, with nothing covering her face or mouth to protect against deadly blood spatter. This happens across all movies, from Dawn of the Dead (1978) to Zombieland (2009). The examples are endless. When the dead rise, if we as a society make as many silly mistakes about how to suit up as our cinematic counterparts, we’ll all be toast.
Specific clothing needs are a function of location and climate, but there are basic rules of survival clothing that apply anywhere and in any disaster situation, and it all starts with your brain.
Human beings have big brains. That’s our defining attribute. We are more intelligent than everybody else in the animal kingdom. Our bodies are designed to service that brain, providing the nutrients, oxygen, and protection it needs to function. Our bodies are not designed to keep us alive in extreme situations. We don’t have a thick, furry hide to defend against the winter freeze like an Arctic fox’s. We don’t have the natural armor plating of a cockroach. We can’t eject and regenerate body parts as the common lizard or a young spider does. Our smarts are supposed to keep us from freezing to death, being crushed, or losing limbs. So be smart.
Not only is an exposed forearm or calf easy pickings for that hungry zombie you just bumped into, but an untreated scratch or bug bite can lead to infection, debilitating sickness, and death. In an undead world, there’s no hospital to visit if you’re feeling ill. There’s no pharmacy stocked with antiseptic ointment. There’s no friendly neighbor with a medical degree and a stocked first-aid kit. Tetanus shots, cough medicine, and penicillin will be long-forgotten remedies of a bygone age. Prevention is your last and only line of defense. Therefore, your skin should be thought of as a thin plastic bag holding your guts and bones in place. One accidental puncture, and your very life could leak out onto the floor like so much tomato soup.
Cover your head and feet at all times, thereby insulating you from the sun’s harsh rays, preventing precious heat from escaping and acting as a primary first layer of combat protection. When possible, your entire body should be covered with loose, layered clothing in both hot and cold weather. Tight-fitting garments restrict blood flow and decrease your ability to regulate body temperature. Try to keep your clothes clean and dry. Dirt reduces the fabric’s natural insulation qualities, and wearing wet clothing at night or in winter will turn you into a human Popsicle in no time flat.
If you have options, choose breathable fabrics like linen when exposed to extreme heat. In extreme cold, wool and synthetic material is the way to go. Cotton will suck your body heat if it gets wet, even from your own perspiration, and is commonly known as the “death fabric” in survivalist circles.
When it comes to zombie body armor, there is no need to strap on a full set of medieval chain mail or wear a full shark suit. A hooded sweatshirt with strips of industrial-strength tape could provide complete bite protection for your entire upper body. Add leather gloves and goggles, and you’re well on your way to being virtually bite-and splatter-proof.
SURVIVAL HOUSING
Protective shelters also need to take into consideration your specific climate, but there is a basic set of criteria for sizing up the pros and cons of any undead shelter. The DSM Scale is a system that looks closely at three primary areas when evaluating the quality of a shelter. In order of increasing importance, they are:
1. Defensibility. What are the location’s natural defensive advantages? What weapons can be found or created therein? What steps can be taken to eliminate vulnerabilities?
2. Sustainability. How much food and water is safely available? What essential supplies are stocked and ready? What threat does the surrounding environment pose both now and in time?
3. Mobility. Are there a number of adequate escape routes for safe retreat? What transportation options does the location provide? Are the essential weapons and supplies able to be made portable?
While a discount retailer such as Costco may score high in defensibility, with available weapons and almost no vulnerabilities, its sustainability rating takes a hit because of the extreme threat presented by the surrounding area. In a zombie outbreak, big-box stores will draw a desperate and violent crowd, quickly becoming epicenters of death.
By contrast, a suburban home may have large windows and be difficult to defend, but if upgrades can be easily made, a supply of canned food and a backyard pool could allow for a period of relative safety. Of course, when it inevitably comes time to move, the water in the pool can’t be carried along without portable containers and advanced planning.
DEFENSIBILITY
A good rule of thumb when planning your zombie shelter’s defense is to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Sure, the undead may be mindless drones that can’t even complete the simple task of turning a doorknob, but what if they’re not? What if zombies are smarter, faster, and more able-bodied than anyone ever imagined? How well will your defenses hold up if they’re designed around the expectation of a lesser threat? I’d hate to be the one to find out.
Instead, think about what steps you would take if an angry mob of humans were coming to attack your shelter and kill you and your loved ones. In a land gone crazy, the likelihood that you will face both living and undead enemies is very real, so any survival strategy that doesn’t account for the greatest possible threat is utterly useless.
Don’t make the mistake of narrowly focusing on combat with zombies. Step outside yourself to imagine the complete pandemonium that will consume any infected area. Chaos will rule the day, and questions like these should be asked early and often: Can I break down this barricade? Can I climb over this obstacle? Can I breach this structure? Can my defenses be stronger?
In the end, the challenges ahead can’t be fully understood until they present themselves. No one knows what’s just around the corner in a time of law and reason, let alone when zombies are eating the neighbors across the street. When building defenses, all we can do is hope for the best and plan for the worst. But whatever you do, never underestimate how bad the worst can be in an undead world.
SUSTAINABILITY
In a zombie world, the power grid will inevitably fail, making night an extremely dark environment. Candles, flashlights, lamps, and other interior light sources will suddenly be the equivalent of a “Come loot me” sign to anyone searching for places to raid. Survival expert James Wesley Rawles says that your house should look anonymously dark, like those of your neighbors who have already run for the hills or are without power.
To avoid unwelcome guests, cover all windows with heavy black plastic sheeting. Trash bags, blankets, and other improvised blackout precautions tend to leak light, so if you don’t have the proper material, you should consider illuminating interior windowless rooms only, and even that at a minimum.
Rawles goes so far as to recommend installing infrared, motion-sensitive floodlights to the outside of your house. Invisible to the naked eye,
these lights will provide an early-warning system when used with night-vision goggles.
If you’re like me and don’t have high-tech gear at the ready, a less extreme alternative is to set up dummy lights in abandoned houses up the street or on another block. With good sight lines, you’ll be able to monitor neighborhood activity from the safety of your blackened shelter.
But it wasn’t a prank. And it didn’t go away. Just a couple of days after the first internet videos appeared it was the lead story on the nightly news. And then everything just started shutting down.
—Zombie, Ohio (2011), Scott Kenemore
If the Internet is still working when things really go south, you might also want to consider disabling your Wi-Fi.
Wi-Fi signals can be used as primitive homing devices, making you vulnerable to attack from other hostile humans even if your house appears to be abandoned from the outside. All a clever looting gang needs to do is drive down residential streets with their laptop set to search for available Wi-Fi. A signal means jackpot for them and trouble for you.
Even if your house is completely blacked out, an active wireless network lets the bad guys know there’s a potentially lucrative target in the immediate area. Once the gang gets a hint that someone is sheltering nearby, they’ll search two or three likely houses until you’re discovered. At that point, zombies are the least of your worries, as your food, water, and other supplies become a thing of the past.