Arthur Daigle's Blog - Posts Tagged "dry"

The worst has come to pass as zombies swarm the world in overwhelming numbers. No one knew how this came to pass. No one knew where it would end. No one knew why the military didn’t drop bombs and artillery shells on crowds of zombies that couldn’t move fast enough to catch a turtle with asthma. But somehow the greatest military powers in the history of mankind had been left helpless, forcing citizens to band together for mutual survival. And so a small band of survivors gathered in a warehouse in Phoenix Arizona to plan their next move.

The crowd murmured in brief, worried conversations as their leader Gus stepped in front of them. He waved to get their attention as he announced in a bland, monotone voice, “People, please, let’s get things moving. I understand you’re all concerned, but we can get through this disaster with adequate planning and a healthy respect for authority.”

Silence fell across the room, interrupted only by the sounds of zombies moaning in the distance and the air conditioner going full blast to combat Phoenix’s intense summer heat. Gus took a moment to survey his band of survivors. Twenty men and women armed with only steel rods and baseball bats, not an inspiring sight.

If these frightened people were hoping for a great leader, a George Washington or Winston Churchill to rise up and lead them in this time of crisis, they weren’t getting one. Gus was middle aged, balding and dressed like the middle manager he was. He had the charisma of a boiled ham and the blank stare of a deer caught in the headlights. He was, however, the only person who’d volunteered to lead.

“Now I’ve had a chance to speak with each of you one on one, and we have some issues to address. The first is that none of you have combat training. There are also no doctors, nurses, firemen, engineers or policemen. You are, in short, losers. I’m not sure how none of you ever developed useful life skills, but you didn’t, and we’re going to have to deal with that.”

“I’m a yoga instructor,” a woman said.

“That’s lovely,” Gus replied in a deadpan voice. “This means we’re going to suffer needlessly high casualties over the next few days. But do not despair. Georgiou, that’s the gentleman in the back, is a skilled hair care technician, so you’ll look your best before being eaten.”

“Hello,” Georgiou said. A few people waved at him.

“We’re going to have to delegate responsibilities to members of the group,” Gus continued. “I need one or two people to go betray the others in an effort to guarantee their own survival. I see a lot of hands going up, so I’m meet with you in private. I also need at least one person to go mad and run off, then be surrounded and eaten. This job is best handled by a person with deep religious beliefs, but they can’t be Jewish.”

“Why not?” a woman asked.

“Because that would get us labeled as anti-Semitic.” Gus stopped talking when a man walked up to him and handed him a slip of paper. There was a whispered conversation before the man returned to the group. “Everyone, this is Stan.”

“Hi, Stan,” the group said.

“Stan tells me that one of you put up a suggestion box, and someone has made a suggestion.” Gus read the paper, his expression blank. “Fill alley with brush and scrap lumber, coat with oil, lure in zombies and ignite brush, burning zombies. No. That’s not the way we do things in this kind of situation. If we can get back to the matter at hand, I need one or more women here to be lesbians.”

A woman raised her hand. “Only one to three percent of the population is gay. Statistically speaking, there shouldn’t be a lesbian in a group this small.”

“And she’ll be killed and eaten,” Gus continued. “We’ll also need a needlessly promiscuous woman in the group, who will also be eaten.”

“Dammit!” a man yelled.

Gus wasn’t done. “The group must break up into competing factions until it separates into two smaller and easily defeatable groups. It would be ideal if the groups fight and kill one another, but that’s a tall order. I’ll settle for insults and racial slurs.”

Stan walked up to Gus and handed over another slip of paper. Gus frowned as he read it. “Syphon gas from 18 wheel trucks, put gas into steamroller or bulldozer, run over zombies. No. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously. We have thousands of zombies in Phoenix, and while they are slower, weaker and dumber than you are, not sure how the last one is possible, but they remain a threat. If we just go off willy-nilly then the whole group is going to get eaten and not just eighty percent.”

“Wait, we’re going to lose that many?” another man asked.

“The average rate of survival for groups this incompetent in zombie outbreaks is traditionally low,” Gus explained. “Most losses are from people being surprised by zombies hiding in cars, behind locked doors or in shallow water, or by people being surrounded by overwhelming numbers of zombies.”

Stan handed Gus a third slip of paper. Gus looked annoyed as he held it up for the group to see. “Seal bottom floor of high rise office building, wait for zombies to surround building, throw furniture from fifth floor or higher and crush zombies below. I’m not sure who thought this was a good idea.”

“That one’s mine,” a younger man said. “Hi, I’m Tony. I just figured if you took a sixty pound recliner chair and let it drop five stories, it would smash anything it hit, and a big building would have lots you could throw out the windows.”

“Or you could stick your head out a second story window and shoot down at them,” a woman said. “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Ann.”

Gus’ voice dripped condescension when he told her, “Ann, there are a lot of zombies out there.”

“Are there more zombies than there are bullets?” she pressed. “I like Tony’s idea. Once zombies gather around a building with people in it, they just try to claw their way in whether that would work or not. You’d be looking at thousands of stationary targets.”

“People, please, let’s be serious for a—” Gus began, but he was interrupted as Stan brought him another slip of paper. “Make homemade explosives. Lure in zombies. Blow them up. No. Who wrote this?”

An elderly man raised his hand. “Hi. I’m John, and I’m a retired chemistry teacher. I can make passably large explosives with the right materials. They won’t be military grade, but it’s better than nothing.”

Gus waved for Stan to come over. “Stan, I need you to take down that suggestion box. It’s not helping.”

Ann waved her hands to get the group’s attention. “Excuse me, but there’s something I’d like to share with all of you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Gus told her.

Ann ignored him, as did everyone else. She pointed to the nearest air vent pumping out blissfully cool air. “This is summer in Arizona. We’re looking at temperatures in the triple digits and low humidity. Staying cool and getting enough water is going to be a high priority, but it’s also our best weapon.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not following you,” John told her.

“A person can die from dehydration fast under these conditions, and I think zombies can, too.”

Gus rolled his eyes. “We all know zombies can only be killed by destroying their brains.”

“Which dehydration would do,” Ann replied. “Zombies don’t seem to sweat or pee, but they’re still going to lose water to evaporation in these conditions. They need a source of water, maybe from eating their victims, but otherwise there’s not much out there for them. They won’t know how to use water fountains, and they’re too stupid to know how to open a bottle of water or even why they would want to. That means they’re going to be losing water from their bodies and not getting any back. It won’t take more than a few days until they’re as dry as beef jerky. Their muscles and organs would shrivel up and be destroyed, brains included.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “That means we don’t have to fight thousands of zombies. We just need to hold them off until they wither away.”

“I don’t think—” Gus started, only to be pushed aside by John.

“So we’ll collect food and water, and secure a building they can’t easily break into, like your office building idea!”

“And throw chairs at them!” Tony yelled. A few people gave him worried looks, and he said, “Hey, my ex wife is a zombie out there somewhere, and after three years of alimony I think I’m entitled to throw furniture.”

John looked positively giddy. “Do you know what this means? Any place that gets hot and dry enough, and at the same time doesn’t have a supply of easily available water like a stream or lake, is zombie proof. Zombies under those conditions would bake under the sun until they dried out completely. The American southwest, the Great Plains, the Rocky Mountains, any one of those would be ideal to wait out the few days or weeks for the zombies to die out, all the while the few remaining ones would get progressively slower and weaker.”

“You’d be safe in a cold place, too,” Ann added. “If you’re in the far north, the temperatures would drop and the zombies would freeze solid.”

“So you could bash them while they’re frozen?” Tony asked.

“Why bother?” John asked. The others looked to him, and he said, “If a body freezes solid, ice crystals form inside the cells. Those crystals either cut the cells apart like microscopic blades or pop the cells open like overinflated balloons. When the cells thaw out, they’re totally ruined and rot away in no time. It’s called Dorian Gray Syndrome.”

“Wait,” Gus said.

Tony rolled his eyes. “So the Canadians are safe. That figures.”

Ann climbed on top of a shipping crate and smiled. “The zombies outnumber us, but we’ve got a plan and we’re got hope! Come on, everyone! Let’s show these monsters what people can do when they work together!”

The group cheered and followed Ann out of the warehouse. Georgiou was the last to leave and offered Gus a shrug as he headed out the door. Gus watched the others surround a few zombies in their way and destroy them, not surprising when they had baseball bats and zombies only had teeth and nails.

Gus stared at them as they disappeared into the distance. He continued staring long after they were gone, eventually saying, “Looks like I need more survivors. I think I saw some by the airport.”