Zombie Rules

by Achord, David

  I smiled tightly as I finished stapling the last of the hardware cloth. “Well, you’ve certainly helped me along.” We admired our work for a minute and complimented each other with effluent gushiness. We then took an inventory of items we were going to carry with us. We each armed ourselves with a handgun, rifle, and knife. Extra ammo, water, and a cooler full of food were stored in the cab. We had pry bars, two spare tires, a gas operated Sawzall to cut open stubborn doors, rope, and chain with hooks on each end.

  “Why don’t we take the taillights off?” I suggested. “There’s not going to be any cops writing tickets, and if we need to run away from someone we don’t need to make it easy for them to follow us.” Rick shrugged, took a hammer and busted them out. I frowned at him. “I was thinking more like using a screwdriver and remove them carefully, but whatever.” I took the license plate off as well and removed the registration from the glove box.

  “Why’d you do that?” Rick asked.

  “If we have to abandon the truck, we don’t want anyone to figure out where we live by checking the registration.” Rick nodded and slapped me on the back.

  “Nice thinking. Alright my man, we’ve got a lot done. Let’s go eat dinner and get to bed early.”

  We got up early the next morning, fixed ourselves some breakfast, fed the dogs, and the other usual stuff before heading out. The sun was peeking out as we crossed the creek. It was promising to be a sunny day. The start of our reconnaissance mission did not go as planned. The John Deere’s battery was dead. A quick trip back for jumper cables fixed the issue. We moved it out of our way and moved it back once we crossed the bridge.

  “You know, a functioning gate sure would be nice.” I said glibly. Rick gave me a withering stare out of the corner of his eye.

  The Riggins house was empty. No people, no zombies. What little food remained had rotted. There was a case of dog food left, and a dog’s carcass tied up to a chain in the backyard. “It’s sad.” Rick said as he tossed the cans into the back of the truck.

  “Yeah.” I said. “You’re talking about the dog, right?”

  “Yeah. Did you know how I got Moe, Larry, and Curly?” He asked. I shook my head. “Somebody had dumped them on the side of the road. I found Moe first. About a week later I found Larry and Curly. They were on the brink of starvation. People can be real assholes. It makes you wonder if God finally had enough of mankind’s shit and unleashed this plague upon us.” He stared straight ahead as he drove. Sometimes Rick was very talkative. Sometimes, he lapsed into a broody silence which could last for hours, or even days. I always let him have his space. I figured his PTSD demons were awake and he just needed to work it out of his system. Today, he was talkative, so I listened.

  He continued. “You know, I wonder how many pets have died just like that dog back there. And the zoos, how many of those animals died? Sad, man. Very sad.” He lit a cigarette, the last pack he had. “Which reminds me. We can expect a lot of stuff decomposing and rotting. Food, trash, unprocessed sewer, dead dogs, dead bodies. The smell is going to be awful. You think you can handle it kid?”

  I chuckled. “I’ll try not to barf on you. I bet the rats are not only alive, they’re probably thriving.” Rick chuckled in agreement.

  Rick was right. The closer we got into town, the more nauseous the smells and odors became. We reminded each other to bring gas masks next time. Today we had to settle for bandannas wrapped around our face.

  “So what exactly are we going to do if we encounter anyone?” Rick was looking around everywhere as he slowly drove down the street. There were abandoned vehicles and corpses everywhere, but we had not encountered any impassable roadblocks just yet. Multiple tendrils of smoke could be seen in the distance. Dark black smoke, indicative of more than just wood burning.

  “First we pull our bandanna’s down so we don’t look like bandits, and then we wave. Most people with evil intentions won’t wave back. If they don’t wave, we keep going. If they do, we stop and talk to them.”

  “But keep our distance from them.” He said.

  “Yeah, absolutely. If we do run into anyone, I’d dare say they won’t want to get too close to us either. In fact, anyone trying to get close to us would make me suspicious.”

  Rick nodded. “I agree. Zombies on the other hand, we kill on sight.”

  I shook my head. “We don’t want to be making a lot of noise, do we?”

  “You make a good point my friend. But I have to warn you, I may have to kill a few just on principal. So, where to first?”

  I looked at the street sign and down at the map. “Hang a left at the next street. There should be a liquor store on the corner.”

  “Now you’re talking!” Rick said gleefully. His elation was short lived. When we drove into the parking lot, it was readily apparent the liquor store had been ransacked. The plate glass windows were broken out, and the shelves had been emptied. We went inside anyway. The only thing left was a half empty bottle of pure grain alcohol.

  “Better than nothing.” Rick mumbled as he picked up the bottle.

  The next stop was a car dealership. It was also obvious that it had been broken into, as was most businesses, but it seemed like the only thing that interested people were the cars. We made our way back into the shop and broke into the supply room. We found several spare parts for our trucks. “I like your thinking kid. Long term, always think long term. I would not have even thought of spare parts and fan cables. Let’s get some synthetic oil while we’re here.” We stocked up and made our way to a vet clinic for dog supplies. It too had been ransacked, but it looked like whoever broke in was looking for drugs. We found an ample supply of heart worm pills, flea shampoo, and other antibiotics intended for house pets. We also found the kennel in back. We suspected what we’d find, but we looked anyway. The cages contained the carcasses of several pets. Rick swore silently and took a swig of alcohol.

  There were dead and decaying bodies scattered around. On one street, there would be none, or just a solitary corpse. Turn the corner and there were dozens of decomposing bodies stacked like cordwood. Several houses and buildings had burned to the ground. We were getting accustomed to the chaos and carnage. One house had a fire truck parked in front of it. There were some firemen lying supine. It looked like they had been ravaged. “Stop here!” I shouted excitedly. Rick hit the brakes. “We can use the fire hose, and the truck probably has some good tools on it too.” I explained.

  Rick looked around. “I don’t see anyone lurking about, but let’s make it quick.” I agreed. We gathered up a couple of fire hoses and the tools that firemen always carried. Rick pointed at one of the dead firemen. They had oxygen gear, but the oxygen was depleted. As he approached, one of the firemen started moving. “Holy shit, they’re zombies!” I walked up and buried my newly acquired fire axe into his head before he could stand up and bite one of us. “Bada boom!” Rick shouted gleefully. I held my finger over my lips. Rick smiled mischievously and pointed at another fireman that was struggling to stand, even though he had a missing leg. I walked over and dispatched him as well. Rick grinned.

  We gathered up anything we thought we could use, including the empty oxygen tanks. I pointed at the dead firemen. “This turnout gear could come in handy.” Getting the protective helmets off of their heads was pretty easy, but we had to wrestle the corpses to get the jackets and pants off. Both of us dry heaved a couple of times. “I don’t know kid, if we can’t get the smell out of the gear, there’s no way in hell I’ll wear any of it.” I agreed. We threw all of it in the bed of the truck anyway and drove on.

  Rick started as we drove into the parking lot of a Lowes. “Heads up.” He said as he stopped at the entrance. He nodded toward the front of the store. There were two men standing there looking at us. We had about one hundred feet between us. They did not look very old, maybe early twenties, and they were armed with handguns. They had them stuck in their waistbands like they were street gangsters. We pulled our bandannas down. I stepped out of the
truck and waved. They did not wave back. I got back in the truck. “So what do you want to do?” Rick asked.

  “Drive on. We don’t need any confrontations, we need to survive. We can revisit this store later.” I looked at him seriously. “After all, who is going to take care of all the pussy out there if we’re dead?” He grunted in agreement and made a U-turn out of the parking lot. I looked behind us as we left. The two men ran to a parked car. “They’re going to follow us. I guess we should head back.”

  Rick glanced over. “Not quite Zach. We’re going back to the liquor store. The big car wreck and all those abandoned cars around it form a perfect bottleneck. A perfect kill zone. We’re going to be waiting for them on the other side. They ain’t gonna like what happens next.” Rick punched the gas.

  You had to slow down to a near crawl to get through the mass of wrecked cars and make a sharp left into the parking lot. We left the truck parked in front of the liquor store with the doors left open. It worked exactly as Rick had planned. They were in a baby blue BMW. Not the kind of car I’d be riding around in post apocalypse, but whatever. They entered the bottleneck and slowed to a crawl. Once they made the left turn they spotted our truck and stopped suddenly. They sat there looking at our truck, wondering where we were. I could see them through the windshield talking to each other. After a minute, the passenger got out. He slowly approached our truck and peeked inside. He looked toward the liquor store, looked back at his friend, and pointed toward the store. His friend got out of the car and walked up. The tall one looked in our truck again. I heard him say, ‘no keys’ in a hushed voice. Apparently, it meant something of significance. Maybe they intended to steal it.

  I was crouched down behind a car. Rick was in the back of a minivan on the opposite side of the wreck. If they just looked around, they would have probably seen me. They both focused their attention on the interior of the liquor store. The shorter of the two was pointing his handgun toward the entrance. The other one finally yelled out, “Hello!”

  Rick must have grown impatient with them. He answered. “Why hello bitches. Now drop those guns if you want to live.” He growled out the last sentence as he stuck the barrel of his Winchester out of a broken window. I must admit, he even frightened me a little bit.

  The two men turned toward Rick, but did not drop their weapons. The short one spoke. “You don’t understand, we’re friendly. We just wanted to talk.” There was no friendliness in his eyes.

  “If you still have a gun in your hand by the time I close my mouth, you’ll be talking to God. Now drop those weapons!” The taller one dropped his gun immediately. The other one just stood there and stared at Rick. He started to say something, and then tried to bring his gun up. He did not get a chance. Rick shot him square in the chest. The other man dropped down in a crouch beside our truck and looked at his weapon lying a mere foot away from him. He was temporarily hidden from Rick. He knew it and started to reach for it. I stood up then. He jumped when he saw me, and immediately raised his hands. I ordered him to stand up as Rick walked around and faced him. “Who the hell are you and why did you come after us?” He asked.

  “I’m Chad. Chad Smith. Why’d you kill Frodo for Christ’s sake? We just wanted to talk to you guys!” His whole body was now shaking and he was having trouble talking without stammering.

  Rick poked him in the chest with his rifle. “You are a Goddamned liar is what you are Chad Smith. You two came after us with weapons. You jumped out of your car with guns in your hands. And then your stupid friend chose to point a gun at me. By the way, Frodo was a character in The Lord of the Rings. He was an honorable and heroic man. One of my favorite characters of all time.” Rick nodded toward Frodo’s lifeless body. “Your friend was neither honorable nor heroic.”

  Chad looked at his recently deceased acquaintance. “His real name was Francis” He said. Rick snorted in contempt and spat. He reached over and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of Chad’s shirt pocket. He lit one and blew the smoke in Chad’s face. “Are you going to kill me?” He asked weakly.

  “Any reason why we shouldn’t? You were going to kill us.” I asked.

  “No sir!” I think he directed it toward me, although it was obvious he was a couple of years older. “I swear to God we weren’t. We…we’re just hungry. We haven’t had anything decent to eat in a while. Just scraps of food that’s past its expiration date. ” Tears started rolling down his face.

  “What’s your story?” He looked at me blankly. “How did you guys survive, where did you come from? All that stuff. Tell me everything. Be truthful,” I pointed at Rick. “He doesn’t like being lied to.”

  Chad hastened a glance at Rick. Rick stared at him without emotion. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail and about a month’s growth of beard covered his face. Crow’s feet were permanently etched around his eyes. He looked like a cold-blooded killer. He must have been a mean mother back in his ‘Nam days. “Uh, well, we both are college students at Vanderbilt. Or we were. When everyone got sick, we went to his parents’ house. They were vacationing in Aruba at the time.” He looked at Rick cautiously. “Frodo’s parents are very rich. Or, they were. I guess they’re dead now.” He glanced down, lost in thought. Rick poked him again. “Oh, yeah. Well, we just holed up in his parents’ house until the food ran out. We broke into a couple of the neighbor’s houses, ran into some zombies. You know.”

  “Have you run into anybody else that wasn’t infected?” This question seemed to make him nervous. It seemed odd, but then it dawned on me. “You two fuckers have been killing people, haven’t you?” I phrased it as a question, but I already knew the answer. Rick poked him in the chest hard. “Answer me.” I demanded.

  He started sobbing now, but it did not seem real, contrived more likely. “I didn’t want to. We came across an older couple yesterday. They wouldn’t share their food with us, so Frodo shot them. I tried to tell him not to do it, but he did it anyway.”

  “And you cried for them the whole time you ate their food I bet. Did you give them a Christian burial, or did you leave them lying where they fell?” Chad continued sobbing. He could not answer. He didn’t need to. Rick and I knew the answer.

  I could see the look on Rick’s face. He was ready to execute Chad. Chad looked downright pitiful at that moment. His clothes were dirty, his face unshaven and oily. His hair was downright greasy from too many days without soap and water, and he was very skinny. We must have looked like aliens to him. We had showered and put on clean clothes this morning. I shaved off the little scruff of whiskers that I had, and even though Rick had a full beard, it was neatly trimmed. It was scraggly as hell until last night when I made a passing comment that he’d never get a woman looking the way he did. The next thing I know, he was in the bathroom with a lantern and some scissors, trimming away.

  Rick looked over at me. I shrugged my shoulder as if to say, I don’t give a shit if you kill him. Rick nodded and raised his rifle. At the moment he was about to pull the trigger, a couple of zombies came around the side of the building. When they spotted us they started moaning in ecstasy and made a beeline toward us. The two of us shot quickly. Rick scored a direct hit between the eyes. My aim was off just a bit, my bullet grazed off of the cheekbone of my target. It continued a loping charge at me. I took aim and shot again. Bull’s-eye. It dropped in a heap. Rick walked over to them, looked them over to make sure they were dead, and started laughing. He pointed. “You just killed a cop!”

  I looked at the zombie. His tattered rags were the remains of a police officer’s uniform. His badge was gone, but he was still wearing a duty belt, although his gun was missing. I chuckled just a bit. Chad spoke up. “It’s the noise. Those things are attracted to noise.” He looked around. “There will be more of them coming soon. A lot more. We should get out of here.”

  I made a decision then. Killing in self-defense was one thing. Killing a zombie was about the same. Killing a man in cold blood was still murder. I was not at that point in my life. At lea
st, I didn’t think I was. I walked over to Chad’s gun. It was a twenty-two caliber Ruger revolver. I unloaded the bullets and handed him the gun. I got a couple of cans of beans n’ weenies and a can of peaches out of the truck and handed them over as well.

  “Chad, my name is Zach and my friend here is Rick. I want you to get in your car and drive off. If you ever come at us with a gun again, somebody is going to die. Got it?” He nodded quickly. “You should leave before Rick decides to kill you anyway.” Chad walked quickly toward his car. He paused momentarily as he walked by Frodo’s body. He looked up at Rick as he got in his car, thinking that maybe we were just playing a game with him and Rick was going to shoot him anyway. Or maybe he was memorizing Rick’s face for the future. In any event, Rick started caressing his rifle, which sent a message to Chad. The message was, get the fuck away from us. He got in the Beemer and hastily drove away.

  I got a can of spray paint out of the truck and marked the liquor store with the standardized FEMA symbol, which was a big X, a date, any special information, and showed the building had been searched. I then spray painted something else on the wall.

  ZOMBIE RULE #1: YOU HAVE TO GET THEM IN THE HEAD. I thought for a minute and then added RULE #2: THEY’RE ATTRACTED TO NOISE.

  Rick looked at it and chuckled. He grabbed the can and added a big Z at the bottom. “Always sign your work.” He grinned. “Okay Zach, where to next?”

  “Well hell, let’s get out of here before the zombies come. How about we head back to the Lowe’s Store.”

  Rick’s expression saddened suddenly. “No more liquor stores?”

  We spent the rest of the day driving around looking for anything we could use and generally checking everything out. The city of Franklin was total mayhem. There were remnants of traffic accidents everywhere, which caused traffic jams, which caused abandoned vehicles. There was plenty of evidence of zombie attacks, and there were zombies aimlessly wandering everywhere. Our protected windows kept them from getting to us, although they tried. It was morbidly amazing. They would try to claw their way through the thick hardware cloth. The skin and nails of their fingers would be ripped and torn, but they seemed oblivious to any pain.