by Dr. Block
Baby Zeke
The diary of a chicken jockey
(an unofficial Minecraft autobiography)
(COMPLETE Series, Books 1-9)
By,
Copyright © 2015-2016 by Dr. Block and DrBlockBooks.com
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This unofficial Minecraft autobiography is an original work of fan fiction which is neither sanctioned nor approved by the makers of Minecraft. Minecraft is a registered trademark of, and owned by, Mojang AB, and its respective owners, which do not sponsor, authorize, or endorse this book. All characters, names, places, and other aspects of the game described herein are trademarked and owned by their respective owners.
If you like this book, please leave a review so other Minecrafters can learn about it. Thank you!
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Table of Contents
Book 1: Baby Zeke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Book 2: Into the Mine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Book 3: Rescue Mission
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Book 4: Mysterious Objects
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Book 5: Pursuit of Herobrine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Book 6: No Rest
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Book 7: Herobrine’s Minion
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Book 8: End Times
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Book 9: Apocalypse
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
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Author’s Note
Book 1: Baby Zeke
Chapter 1
I was born – or should I say spawned – inside a dark cave with three other zombies. The other three zombies were all very tall and strong, but I was tiny and I assumed I was weak.
The three other zombies laughed at me. “Look at that little baby,” they said and pointed at me and laughed more.
I was sad. “Stop laughing at me,” I said. “You are being mean.”
The large adult zombies ignored me.
When they finally stopped laughing, one of the large zombies walked toward the exit of the cave. There was a bright light outside the cave. I later learned it was sunlight.
When the zombie stepped outside, he caught on fire. Even though he wasn’t very nice to me, I ran outside to save him. I did not want to see him burn. It was gross and smelled pretty bad.
He looked at me and said with a desperate, raspy voice, “Water. Get water.”
“I don’t know where any water is. Is there something else I can do?” I asked him, even though I already knew there was nothing I could do to save him.
“Why aren’t you burning too?” asked the burning zombie with his final breath.
“I don’t know,” I said.
When the zombie died, he dropped some rotten flesh. I dug a hole and buried it in an unmarked grave.
The other adult zombies were hiding inside the dark cave, afraid to go out into the bright sunlight and catch fire.
But I was not afraid because the sunlight didn’t harm me. And the large zombies had stopped laughing at me.
Chapter 2
When the sun went down, the two remaining adult zombies and I left the cave. We wanted to find a larger zombie horde for protection.
As we walked, I wondered why I was a baby zombie. I did not have any parents, and all the other zombies were adult-sized. It did not make any sense.
In the middle of the night, we met another group of fifteen zombies. They were all full-sized.
When they saw me, one of them said, “How cute. A baby zombie. I haven’t seen one of those in weeks.”
The new zombies gathered around me and patted my head. It was nice to have someone like me instead of laugh at me.
“Why am I so small?” I asked them.
One of the zombies shrugged his shoulders and said, “Who knows. Sometimes baby zombies will spawn instead of adult zombies. No one knows why.”
“I hate being small,” I said.
“You shouldn’t,” said one of the adult zombies. “You can move faster than adult zombies and are harder to kill.”
“Kill? Who would want to kill us?” I asked, suddenly terrified.
“Iron golems, snow golems and charged creepers are the most common killers. But, you have to be especially careful of Players,” he said.
“Why do those things want to kill us?” I asked.
“Well
, zombies attack villages, and iron golems guard villages, so it is natural that iron golems don’t like us. Snow golems guard Players’s houses. And, charged creepers are just freaky and kill all sorts of things when they explode,” he said.
“What about the Players?”
The adult zombie sighed. “Well, they are harder to explain. A Player will show up from nowhere and start attacking zombies, hoping we will drop something the Player can put in his inventory.”
“So, they steal from us?” I asked, very angry to learn about these greedy Player murderous thieves.
“Yes, but zombies try to kill them too, so it makes sense they don’t like us. In fact, a zombie’s favorite target is a Player.”
All of this talk about killing and dying was making me scared and sad. But, it was nothing compared to the terror I felt next.
“And, just so you know, Players are especially fond of killing baby zombies,” the adult zombie said.
“Why?” I screamed. “What horrible creature would want to kill a little baby?”
“Baby zombies give Players more experience than killing a full-sized zombie. And Players crave experience. Some of them value it even more than diamonds and gold.”
I was shivering with fear. I was less than one-day old and already I was the target of vicious assassins known as Players. I wanted to ask more questions, but the adult zombie said, “The sun will be up soon. Let’s find a cave to hide in.”
Chapter 3
Once we found a cave, the friendly adult zombie shuffled over to me and sat down.
“Say, kid, do you have a name?” he asked.
I shrugged. “No.”
“Well, what do you want to be called?”
I thought for a minute. Usually parents give babies their names, but I didn’t have any parents. “I don’t know. Zeke? Is that a good name?”
“It sure is. Pleased to meet you, Zeke,” said the adult zombie as he took my hand and shook it, our rotten flesh making squishing noises as it touched. “My name is Zeb.”
“Hi, Zeb,” I said. I looked down at the ground and flicked a pebble with my undead fingers.
“Say, I didn’t mean to scare you back there, kid, but facts is facts,” said Zeb, picking at his loose, rotten teeth with a stick.
I sighed and looked up from the ground. “Yeah, but this world sounds pretty scary.”
Zeb laughed. “It is a bit scary, but I can show you how to survive. It is pretty easy really, as long as you follow the rules and know when to run away.”
I smiled. “I hope you mean it.”
“I do,” he said. “The first thing you need to know is that you are immune to the sunlight because you are a baby zombie. So, unlike us big zombies, you can play outside in the daytime.”
Oh, I thought. That explains why that other zombie burned and I didn’t. “I guess that’s pretty cool,” I said.
“It sure is. It means you have more options to escape from Players if they attack during the daytime. Don’t forget that.”
I nodded seriously. “I won’t.”
“The next thing we need to do is get you some armor. Baby-sized armor can be hard to find, but we should be able to get you equipped soon.”
“That will make me feel a lot safer,” I said.
“We’ll be attacking a village tonight, and might even be able to find some armor there that will fit you.”
I was suddenly very nervous. “Attacking a village? Am I ready for that?”
Zeb looked me up and down. “To be honest with you, Zeke, probably not. You can just hang back and keep watch for Players sneaking up on us while we do our thing.”
“Okay,” I said, not very sure of myself, and not very sure about participating in an attack on innocent villagers.
“Look, it is getting late and we all need rest before our attack on the village,” said Zeb. “We can talk more tonight. Okay?”
“Okay, Zeb. Thanks,” I said.
Chapter 4
I watched as the rest of the zombies slept in the dark cave. I was too nervous to sleep. My first village assault. Insane.
I got up and walked to the cave’s entrance. I watched as the breeze gently blew through the leaves on the nearby trees. I looked at the beautiful red poppies growing a few feet away.
The world seemed so peaceful right now, but I knew it was all an illusion. I had to be ready to fight for my life at any moment.
But, then I saw something that made me laugh. It was a small creature with white feathers and two scrawny yellow legs. A chicken.
It pecked at the ground looking for seeds and worms to eat. I watched as it pecked and pecked and then scratched the ground, hoping to turn up some food.
As it searched for food it came closer and closer to where I stood. Finally, it looked up and noticed me.
“Oh, hello baby zombie,” said the chicken.
“Hi,” I said. “Are you out here by yourself?”
“Yes,” said the chicken between pecks at the ground. “I had some friends, but they were captured by villagers.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
“Yes, it is,” said the chicken. “But that is what happens to chickens. We eventually get caught and eaten.”
I was outraged that the chicken would resign himself to such a fate. “You could run away or fight,” I said.
“Chickens are too small to fight anyone, and it is pretty difficult to hold on to a weapon with a wing. And, you can’t always run away.”
“Maybe I could help you?” I suggested.
The chicken clucked curiously. “Why would a zombie want to help a chicken? Don’t you guys normally eat us?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think it is easier to survive when you have friends.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” said the chicken.
“So, what do you say?” I asked. “Do you want to work together to survive in this crazy world?”
The chicken tilted his head to one side and considered the idea. “Hmmmm,” he muttered, “yes, let’s do that.”
“Great,” I said, smiling. “Come in to the cave and relax with me. A bunch of us zombies are going to raid a village tonight.”
“Whoa, that sounds intense,” said the chicken, as he walked inside the cave.
“Maybe we can find your friends and free them before the villagers eat them. That would pretty awesome, right?”
The chicken clucked. “Yes, it would be.”
“By the way, my name is Zeke. What’s yours?”
“Harold.”
Chapter 5
Harold and I sat in a corner and slept for a few hours until Zeb woke me up.
“Where’d the chicken come from?” asked Zeb. “He looks tasty.”
“I met him outside the cave. He was looking for food. We’re friends.” Then I added, “You can’t eat him.”
Zeb smiled, one of his loose teeth swinging back and forth in his mouth. “I was just kidding.”
Harold woke up and stretched his wings. “Hi,” he said to Zeb, “I’m Harold.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Zeb.”
“Harold is going to come with us when we raid the village. He wants to look for his friends,” I said.
Zeb looked at Harold and then looked at me. “Okay. As long as he understands the risks.”
“Unfortunately, I do understand,” said Harold sadly.
“Good,” said Zeb. “Everyone needs to pull his own weight during a raid. No slackers.”
“I got it,” said Harold.
Zeb looked at us both again with a strange expression. “Have either of you ever heard of a chicken jockey?”
I never had. I looked at Harold. I could tell by the confused look on his face that he had never heard of a chicken jockey either.
“No,” I said.
“Never,” said Harold.
Zeb sat down next to us. “Well, a chicken jockey is what we call a baby zombie who has learned to ride a chicken. If Harold doesn’t mind, maybe you can be his jockey,
Zeke.”
Harold flapped his stubby, rectangular wings. “Sounds cool. We can search the village together and protect each other.”
“Awesome,” I said.
“There is just one thing you both need to know before making a final decision,” said Zeb seriously.
“Uh, what?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Chicken jockeys are a pretty rare thing in the world, so if a Player sees you, the Player will try very hard to capture or kill you.”
“What? So, just because Harold and I are friends and want to work together we become an even greater target for murderous Players? Being a baby zombie isn’t bad enough?” I screamed. Any zombies that had been asleep were now awake and staring at me.
“I don’t make the rules,” said Zeb calmly. “I just explain them.”
I looked over at Harold. He looked scared too. “Look, Harold,” I said. “I like you and you are my friend, but if being your jockey puts you in more danger than usual, we don’t have to do it.”
Harold sighed. “Zeke, I am a chicken. Everyone and everything wants to kill me and eat me. I am used to it. I’d rather die helping a friend than die alone pecking at the ground. I’ll be your chicken if you’ll be my jockey.”
I smiled and said firmly, “Let’s do this!”
Chapter 6
We left the cave just after dark to head for the nearest village, the adult zombies leading the way while Harold and I brought up the rear.
When we got within sight of the village, our pack stopped and Zeb spoke to everyone.
“Okay, guys, our goal here is to attack as many villagers as we can in the next fifteen minutes,” instructed Zeb. “Zeke and Harold will watch our backs and also try to free Harold’s fellow chickens. After fifteen minutes, we retreat. Any questions?”
Since this was my first attack on a village, I had a lot of questions. I raised my hand. Zeb pointed to me.
“Uh, what should I do if I see an enemy coming?” I asked.
“Just yell as loud as you can and tell us what it is so we can confront it,” said Zeb.
