Jeffrey McElyea's Zombie Compilation

by Jeffrey McElyea

  “What do you think?” Josh asked Shawn.

  “I think we’re screwed,” the doctor answered. “Until we meet the end, all we can do is kill and loot. No matter what we do, we’re too few in numbers to not stay on the run. Although we can join passing teams, doing so will have obvious disadvantages. There is no hope.”

  Weeks later, Blake and the two cousins returned from an expedition to see bandits standing in front of the gas station. Nicole and Shawn laid dead at their feet. The bandits walked towards them. In seconds, their walking converted to running.

  “They’ve seen us,” said Josh. “They want to kill and eat us. We have to run for it.”

  “We’re dead,” said Mack. “We’re dead, Josh. It’s over.”

  “No, not yet.”

  Josh shot Blake in the lower leg.

  “Follow me, Mack. We have to run.”

  Undead Winter

  Copyright 2017 Jeffrey McElyea. All Rights Reserved.

  Undead Winter

  Jeffrey McElyea

  4:15 p.m. November 29th, 2029

  I wish I had been listening to the radio like I usually do. If I hadn’t been drinking last night, I would have had more time to prepare. Luckily, I’m a doomsday prepper. Considering how the world’s people are, preparing for a horrible scenario was never a bad idea.

  I’ve yet to see any of the undead. Fortunately, I live in a small town. It’s a good distance from any city. Saw one of my neighbors across the street get run over by an SUV. The last time I looked, a lot of vehicles and a few trailers were on fire. I’ll hear an occasional scream or gunshot. I’m not about to go out there to investigate. Not until everything calms down.

  6:21 p.m.

  People who knew about my doomsday prepping said I was crazy for stockpiling supplies. Who’s laughing now? No one. Maybe the psychopaths. I’ve checked my inventory in the spare rooms. I have enough food and water to last for a good while.

  -thirty-one containers of freeze dried eggs

  -forty-nine freeze dried meals

  -too many containers of oatmeal

  -twenty-two jugs of purified water

  -six hundred forty bottles of purified water

  -several jugs of gasoline

  -six jugs of kerosene

  -assault rifle with 300 rounds of ammunition

  -nine millimeter pistol with 750 rounds of ammunition

  -twelve gauge shotgun with 105 rounds of ammunition

  -scoped, twenty-two caliber bolt action rifle with 5000 rounds of ammunition

  -three machetes

  -one sword

  -five packs of AA batteries

  -two packs of AAA batteries

  -gun cleaning kit

  -many canned goods

  -clothing

  -sheets and blankets

  -firecrackers

  -nine small propane tanks

  -propane powered lantern

  -four fishing poles with lots of fishing gear

  -eight bottles of cheap wine

  -fourteen bottles of whiskey

  -one case of beer

  -six cartons of cigarettes

  -two flashlights

  -flare gun with flares

  -tent and camping gear (bug nets, thousands of matches, fire starter logs, knives, sleeping bag, etc.)

  -lots of toilet paper

  -baseball bats, one made of metal and one miniature made of wood

  I’m tired of listing inventory. I have a lot of stuff. It makes me feel better to write. Sometimes, it’ll keep my mind off of the present. I’m doing my best not to panic. I parked my car in front of my porch’s steps and placed the spare mattresses against the interior of the porch.

  One of my coworkers gave me the mattresses. I was going to donate them to charity but didn’t have time to. I’m glad I didn’t get rid of them. The porch is made of wood and has a thick, dark bug screen. Because no one or nothing will be able to see me while I’m on the porch, I might make a small garden out there. I have two big bags of dirt. It could work.

  I placed half-filled trash cans on the steps. Two of them are mine. I took others from the neighboring trailers whose tenants had evacuated. I didn’t have time to board up the windows. I did lock all the doors. I’m too afraid to make noise. The porch’s door has two latch locks. The screen door has one cheap lever lock and the front door has a deadbolt lock, one basic lock and one bar locking mechanism. It isn’t paranoia if you’re being smart. Using dark sheets, tape and thumbtacks, I covered the cheap blinds and curtains. I placed the couch and bed against the front door and most of the furniture in front of the windows. No light can get in. No one and nothing on the outside can see what’s going on inside this trailer. If I wanted to, I could light up an entire room.

  7:48 p.m.

  Every thirty minutes or so, I’ll hear a vehicle speeding through the street. The shotgun is at my feet. I do not trust anyone. If it is true that zombies are roaming the earth, I’ll wait here until the rioting and panicking stops.

  Believe it or not, I’d rather deal with flesh eating monsters than a bunch of overly desperate people. According to fiction, zombies are predictable. People aren’t. I hope my makeshift barricade doesn’t attract anyone’s attention. If it does, people may want refuge or my supplies. I’m not about to help anyone any time soon. That is, if I ever decide to help anyone.

  If anyone were to attempt to force their way onto the porch right now, I’d shoot. I’m not about to let someone who is looking for help get me killed. Firing one of my weapons would attract a lot of attention from the living or undead. I hope it doesn’t come to that.

  7:57 p.m.

  The radio stations are declaring a nationwide emergency. I really can’t believe anything anyone on the outside may say to me. Soon, there will be psychotic killers and living cannibals running amuck. Everyone will want to kill me and take my supplies. Some people might see me as food. The radio broadcasts are saying the same thing on a loop.

  “The United States of America is currently undergoing a biological epidemic. Stay in your homes. If possible, do not come in contact with other people. Until further notice, please stay in your homes and tune in for more broadcasts. If possible, further instructions or news will be broadcasted.”

  Unless I hear something from the President or one of the “higher ups”, I’m not going to believe anything. There is a chance someone will take control of an abandoned or occupied radio station and lead people into a trap. It’s getting dark. Time to light some candles.

  11:00 p.m.

  All is silent. There’s nothing but static on television. The radio broadcasts are the same. I just heard a faint sound coming from outside. Going to check it out.

  3:26 a.m. November 30th

  One of those things is outside. A zombie. It’s real. The reality of it is hitting me. It’s much more frightening than the movies and television shows. It’s really happening. Thank you, God. Thank you for giving me enough time to barricade everything.

  Since I first heard the news, I’ve been trying to call everyone I know. I feel sorry for those who have families. Not knowing who my parents and other possible family members are will give me a slight advantage. No one to slow me down or influence my decisions. No emotional ties. I don’t have a wife or any kids to look after. I feel sorry for whomever has children. From what I’ve seen, it is difficult to keep children quiet. One yell or scream and it’s probably over for the kid and everyone else around.

  There’s a zombie out there, just waiting and blankly staring at my neighbor’s van. I can’t tell who the zombie once was. I wonder where it came from. Not about to look through the slit of my bedroom window again. No way. I can’t face looking at that bloodshot eyed, demonic monster again. I just can’t. Not now. For all I know, it could see me.

  7:00 a.m.

  I still haven’t slept. Can you blame me? I seriously doubt this can be stopped. It’s the end of the freaking world. Everyone I used to know, everyone I used to work with… Th
ey’re probably dead. I’m glad I didn’t have to work yesterday.

  My name is David. I’m twenty-three years old. I was one class away from graduating from college. Was planning on becoming a security guard at the school I attended or a local hospital. The hospitals… They’re probably gone now. Supermarkets, hospitals, police stations, you name it. By now, those places are all gone or looted.

  Places are being abandoned or taken over by the walking dead or less reputable characters. People will be doing whatever they can to get their hands on supplies and a safer shelter. Assaulting, thieving, looting and killing. There may be a few people like me scattered around.

  I feel like I’m wasting time just sitting here. As scared as I am, I need to do something productive. This might be the last time I’ll be able to go outside to do anything. I’m taking the shotgun and machete. I’m probably going to have to dispose of some of those things. I hate this. If I use the shotgun, I’ll be able to kill those things without getting too close. But, I’ll make too much noise and attract more of those evil things. I might freak out and do it anyway.

  8:15 a.m.

  I killed three of those things. I was and am frightened. I’m freaking out. I’m freaking out! I just killed three people! But, they aren’t people anymore. They aren’t. It was much easier to do than I thought. I used a good strategy.

  All I had to do was lead them to the car, jump onto the hood and climb onto the roof. From there, I used the machete. Downward swings. After killing the first one, I panicked. I lodged the machete deep into the skull.

  I let go as the corpse dropped to the sidewalk. I was shaking so badly. Before retrieving the machete, I looked around. I didn’t see anything. I tried to slide off the roof of the car. It didn’t work out so well. I fell and landed hard on my side. Not thinking, I yelped in pain. The noise attracted two nearby undead from around the corner.

  I quickly got up and pulled the machete out of the skull. Then I froze. It was just so scary. The bloodshot eyes, chunks of missing flesh, mangled limbs and moaning were too much. The moaning…

  I slipped and fell twice before getting back on top of the car. They were against the passenger side doors and reaching for me. They weren’t about to stop trying to get to me. It was me or them. The sounds they make and their eyes are not something I’ll get used to. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Adrenaline, maybe? The rainy weather made everything slippery.

  The machete got stuck in the head of the second zombie, too. I ran back inside, grabbed another machete, ran back out and dealt with the last one. The eight foot run up the stacked stairs felt like a mile with crocodiles at my heels.

  I stumbled a lot. I couldn’t have bent down to get the machete. I didn’t have time. That’s three monsters I no longer have to worry about. I’ll burn the bodies later. From now on, I’ll remember to bring more than one bladed weapon each time I leave the trailer.

  My neighbor, Cathy, was run over by an SUV. She was crushed. After puking my guts out, I searched the bits of her body that weren’t crushed. I found the keys to her trailer and car. Just what I was looking for. I moved her car long ways next to the end of my trailer and went inside.

  I plan to surround the trailer with a barrier of cars. I’ll have a thick fence of steel. I’ll have to put a lot of debris beneath the vehicles. Wouldn’t want to be taken by surprise by one of those things. I placed my four spare tires beneath my car. I’ll need a lot more to ensure my chances. I’ll search Cathy’s trailer later.

  9:45 a.m.

  My vomit from when I got sick at the sight of Cathy’s crushed body is gone. One of those things had to have eaten it. One of those things is near. I’m going to have to remember that the monsters have an acute sense of smell.

  11:43 a.m.

  People knocked on the windows and porch door while I was trying to sleep. They shouted and said what they could in an attempt to persuade me to respond or come outside. I didn’t. They tried to sound as friendly and calm as possible. I know better. After hearing a gunshot, I looked out the slit of my bedroom window and saw them. Six men were armed with pistols and shotguns.

  When they got here, they tried to force the porch door open. I heard one of them talking.

  “I know there’s gotta be some good stuff in there. A blocked and locked up place has to have some good shit.”

  They want what I have. They might try to kill me. I have thought of two ways to get rid of them. I could create a lot of noise and lure a lot of the monsters here to eat them or simply shoot them. It’s possible they’ll believe I was bitten and turned. If that is the case, they’ll try to force their way inside. I’d rather not have to deal with that. I’ll have to be more careful. Maybe they’ll die before getting a chance to come back. They’ll know I’m alive if they come back and see the barricade has been improved. I won’t do anything else until this situation is dealt with.

  I have to bolster my defenses. I filled the bath tub and sinks with water. I can never have too much water. Reading and watching all kinds of apocalyptic fiction books, movies and television shows has given me an advantage. It has helped me with my readiness and thinking outside the box.

  I also filled every container I could find with water. Never know if or when the water will be turned off. I’ll eat the perishable foods first. Have to be smart about everything.

  2:14 p.m.

  Despite what’s going on with the intruders, I decided to search Cathy’s trailer. Her kid was one of them. I don’t want to talk about it any more than I have. Found some blankets, canned goods, bread and a few bottles of water. Cathy ate out a lot. I didn’t expect her to have much. Every bit counts, though.

  A few trailers down, I found the driver of the red truck. The small camper was hitched to the back of it. The old man in the driver’s seat was dead. His head was blown off. Couldn’t find a gun. Either those armed men shot him or he killed himself and his gun was taken.

  The keys were still in the ignition. I removed the chewed body and parked the truck and camper next to Cathy’s car. The area from the front end of my trailer to the front end of the trailer to my right is blocked off. Until now, I disliked the trailers being so close together. Not now.

  I put a bit of gas in the truck. Could be my getaway vehicle if things get too bad here. My car is fast but gets horrible gas mileage and can’t traverse through rough terrain. Placed the drawers from my dressers and kitchen beneath my fence of steel for a bit of reassurance.

  I’m not comfortable with being outside. I’m afraid those men will come while I’m out there. If they come back, they’ll know someone’s here. I hope they don’t come back. They’re screwing everything up. I don’t and won’t trust them. I believe they want to kill me and take what I have. I placed more garbage cans, busted mirrors, trash and other junk beneath the vehicles. I’ll be happy to have some breathing room after I block off the rest of my little area.

  4:31 p.m.

  Saw a few small groups of people travel through. They checked around my trailer, the inside of the camper (I emptied it) and the barricade. For some reason, seeing people poking around my territory made me rather angry. Using a long and thick piece of cardboard and stick, I posted a sign outside the barricade. The sign reads “Trespassers die”. The message is forward enough. I don’t trust anyone. At this point, no one should trust anyone.

  5:15 p.m.

  The looped radio broadcasts have changed. According to the broadcasts, the water and electricity will be cut off at ten o’ clock. I had a feeling it’d happen at some point. If that’s being done, it’s obvious the situation can’t be controlled.

  I’m going to get as many containers as I can. Going to fill Cathy’s bathtub and sinks. I wish I’d obtained more kerosene for the heater. It’s going to get a lot colder before it gets warmer. I ate the rest of the cheese and drank some milk. I’ll finish the rest of it soon.

  11:15 p.m.

  I still haven’t slept. Kind of hard to with what’s going on.

  7:26 a.
m. November 31st

  I woke up depressed. For a brief moment, I forgot about everything going on. I actually thought of what I’d do after work. I thought it was just a bad dream. I was lucky to not be disturbed as I slept. It’s pretty cold, but I can handle it. It isn’t cold enough to use any of the precious kerosene.

  More of them are outside, about ten of them. I’m somewhat far away from other large settlements, but they’re still coming. The city down the mountain is nine miles away. Maybe they headed this way when it all started.

  Although this epidemic has caused a lot of bad things, I won’t miss a lot of people I’ve crossed paths with. I’m glad I’ll no longer have to tolerate the stupidity of others. Right now, I wouldn’t mind teaming up with one of my alcoholic gas station customers. I hate being by myself. I won’t consider trusting someone I didn’t know before all of this happened. I do need alliances. Going to quit writing and get some work done.

  11:12 a.m.

  I don’t think I’ll get used to the undead. No. I definitely won’t get used to this. The smell out there is bad. Using latex gloves, gasoline and a “cough mask”, I dragged the bodies across the street and burned them. At some point, I’ll expand my perimeter. I’ll fortify my personal area and increase my numbers first. I probably won’t as soon as I should.

  As long as everything goes as planned, I’ll have a great deal of the trailer park cleared within a few weeks. When I have the area cleared, I’ll grow a garden. It’d be hard to grow anything at this time of year.

  I’ve been killing those things while looking for stuff to strengthen my barricade. I’ve destroyed thirteen in all. I’ve had too many close calls with the machete. Going to make a spear. More reach and distance will decrease my chance of becoming one of the dead ones.

  I hate going over to Cathy’s to get water, but it’s necessary. I feel like something or someone might get the drop on me as I walk out the door. The temperatures are in the forties and fifties. Slightly chilly but not bad. Yet. I have a variety of ideas but I’m too scared to further consider most of them.