MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital. OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety. STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
Jessica’s POV (With Rebecca): Rebecca, Luna, and I slowly started making our way toward the hallway directly in front of us. Rebecca was a new recruit in the Red Brigade of the Zombie Survival Crew and incredibly grateful that her machete arrived in time for the rescue mission. She ordered a special-made Billhook Machete and also brandished her desert eagle with silencer. I carried my cast iron skillet, a sword that I’d commissioned, and also a gun with a silencer. Luna had her unmatched keen senses of smell, hearing and sight even in the dark, and of course, her fangs and powerful bite. We halfway down the hall when all of the sudden Luna stopped in her tracks and let out a soft growl. “Jess, I see something down there in the hall,” Rebecca said, tightening her grip on her machete. I squinted made out a dark figure hunched over another dark figure. We inched closer. Slurping and crunching noises filled the hall—definitely a walker enjoying a meal. “I got this,” Rebecca said and moved forward. As she approached the walker, it lifted its head up and sniffed the air. Before it could even turn around, I heard the machete swing through the air, and thud—the walker’s head smacked the wall. I moved closer. Rebecca smiled and said, “Four!” “That would’ve been a hole-in-one, right there,” I joked. Surprisingly there weren’t any other walkers the hallway. We made it to a set of stairs.
Purple Brigade
“Rebecca and Jess, squirrel. We’re at the stairs.” I paused. Something didn’t feel right about how quickly we made it to the stairs. Only one walker, and that was it? “We are heading up.” I put the walkie-talkie back in my pocket. Rebecca, Luna and I made it safely to the top of the stairs and headed down the hallway. We came to a door, and we pushed it open, walked through, and froze. “Oh my God,” Rebecca said. My eyes stung with tears and I knew I couldn’t keep them from pouring down my face. Rebecca and I embraced one another, sobbing quietly. Then we heard a very soft snarl. We pulled away from each other. The tears fell even harder as we moved toward the sound. There it was, in an incubator, probably not even a week old when it had been bitten. Its entire left arm and part of its face had been ripped off. It snarled as loudly as it could—barely louder than a whisper. Rebecca and I looked at each other and knew what we needed to do, but my heart broke. I lifted my cast iron skillet over its tiny body and as I brought it down to end it’s suffering, it snarled. I fell to my knees and wept. Rebecca crouched down and we tried to comfort each other, but there was just no comfort to be had. Rebecca pulled me back to my feet. We searched the room now filled with tiny growls and snarls. There were probably twenty infant walkers in incubators. Helplessly, they all reached, hoping for something to satisfy their longing. Rebecca and I looked each other in the eyes and said at the same time, “They are not alive.” I lifted my cast iron skillet above the nearest incubator and I brought it down, before moving to the next one. Rebecca watched with tears flowing and stepped toward a snarling little body. She pulled up her machete and brought it down, ending its suffering. Our tears never ceased as we made our way around the room, and before we knew it the room fell silent. My hands trembled as I looked at the mangled and cut up bodies. “We had to do it, Jess,” Rebecca said, tears still flowing down her cheeks. “I know, but…” my voice trailed off. A noise came from the hallway. We wiped the tears from our eyes and moved slowly toward the hall. We pressed against the doors to listen and heard the shuffling of feet. I pulled the door open. Rebecca, Luna and I slipped out. We stayed against the wall and moved quietly down the hall. Something grabbed my leg and I fell to the floor hard. “Oh, crap!” A sharp pain shot up my side. I’d fallen onto my sword. Blood ran down my side. “Luna, get it!” I said as I tried to kick at what latched onto my leg. Luna snarled and growled as she pounced my attacker. She bit into it. A sickening crunch sounded as her teeth tightened down on its rotting skull. Its hand released my leg.
Red Brigade
“Jess! Oh my gosh, are you ok?” Rebecca knelt down beside me. “Yeah, just kinda stabbed myself,” I said, feeling like a fool. Rebecca reached into my backpack and found some first aid items to mend my wound. “You’re going to have to do it.” Rebecca’s eyes widened as she looked at me and she knew what I meant. I needed her to pull the sword out of my side. “Bite down on this,” she said as she handed me a towel from my bag. I closed my eyes tightly as she gripped the handle of the sword. I pictured Moira. Saw her fighting off walkers, trapped in a room with little to no provisions. Anger built up in me and I felt no pain as Rebecca pulled the sword from my side. She quickly bandaged me up and helped me to my feet. We pressed on and came to some more stairs. I pulled the walkie-talkie out of my pocket, “This is Rebecca and Jess. Squirrel, and we are about to head up another set of stairs.” I turned my flashlight on for a second to read the sign posted by the stairs. It said: “Take these stairs to get to the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th floors.” I looked at Rebecca and she looked back at me. “You ready for this?” “Hell yeah, I am,” she responded “Are you?”
Welcome back to another round of myth bashing, Zombie Survival Crew style. This series is dedicated to uncovering the truth behind the tales one might hear while preparing for the Zombiepocalypse. We’re here to make sure you don’t end up digesting in a zombie’s stomach early on because you followed bad advice.
Myth: When being chased by zombies, the only safe place is to climb up a tree.
Fact: There may actually be some truth to this one.
It takes a good amount of coordination to be able to climb a tree. Most adults loose the flexibility (and lack of sense) necessary to traverse the tricky feat of making it more than one or two branches off the ground. Zombies are often encumbered by broken or missing limbs and severe muscle damage resulting from decomposition. They can hardly walk in a straight line, let alone direct their bodies to accomplish the difficult task of climbing.
But that isn’t to say they cannot make it up the tree somehow.
What the undead lack in motor skills, they make up for in sheer numbers. So sure, you think you’re fine and dandy sitting up in the branches of a tall tree, carefully picking off the zombies clawing uselessly at the trunk, but they’re drawn to the noise of the gun and the fuss their cohorts are making. Bodies pile up quickly. It is a lot easier to scramble on a writhing pile of moving corpses that don’t get upset when you step on their faces—there’s more horizontal surface to work with, therefore requiring less muscle. It wouldn’t take a large horde very long to build up enough for one zombie to body surf up and cling to a branch.
The question is, how dangerous would a treed zombie be?
Probably not very dangerous. What would kill you is dehydration, starvation, and exposure to the elements. Even if you make it up the tree with your heavy go bag in tow, it won’t have enough in it to tide you over until the horde disperses. They have one focus—food. And guess what? You’re the only item on their menu once they catch your scent.
However, we are not opposed to camping out in a sturdy and well-secured tree house. First of all, the idea just sounds cool. Secondly, if you use a rope ladder that can be pulled up and a very tall tree, there is very little chance of a zombie making it all the way up to your safe haven. This idea only works for individual survivors and not on a permanent basis. Hauling enough supplies to live on up a rope ladder would be backbreaking work, even if you pre-stored most of your items before the attacks began. We suggest using a tree house as an initial “get out of Dodge” location before moving on to a ZSC resupply station in your sector. But make sure you aren’t followed. Once a group of zombies surrounds your tree, getting back down to the ground to move on to a safer location will be very dangerous.
What zombie myths have you heard? Submit your myths in the comments below and we’ll do our best to prove if they are fact or just plain nonsense.
MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital. OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety. STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
Tiffany’s POV: “While I was on the line with her something happened, it sounded like glass breaking and I think something grabbed her. I couldn’t make out much more before the line went dead.” Those words from Commander Flanery echoed in my head. Scared for all of us, I questioned if we’d make it in time and even if we did, would we make it back out? I knew I shouldn’t think about stuff like that, we’d made it this far. But what if we were too late? I shook my head. “No,” I said to myself. Moira counted on us and we were going to get her to safety, no questions asked. Michael and I broke away from the group and made our way through the 5th floor. I took lead. My katana was quieter than Michael’s HK417 chambered 7.62 millimeter. We entered the Burn Unit. The mix of burnt and rotting flesh attacked my nose. I choked. The faint gunshots of the others echoed in the ward as mine and Michael’s boots stomped along the dingy floor. Michael yanked me back into a dark corner. I looked over my shoulder. He put a finger to his lips and pointed over my shoulder towards five walkers shambling down a nearby hallway. He motioned for me to take the two on the left. He’d get the three on the right. I nodded. On the count of three, we charged from the hallway, running towards the walkers. I thrust one of my katanas forward. It slid through both walkers, pinning them to the wall. They growled, clawed and snapped at me. Singed flesh hung from their bodies. Without a second thought I ran the blade of my second katana through their skulls. I cringed a bit, but it needed to be done. I let the bodies hit the floor before pulling my blades free. I shook the blood from them as Michael dropped the last walker with a shot to the head. We looked at each other and nodded. I felt safe knowing Michael had my back.
Orange Brigade
“You ok, Kid?” Michael asked. “Yeah.” “Let’s move out.” I nodded. Michael took lead. That’s when I heard it, growling and shuffling. I lifted my head to see Michael and I surrounded by walkers. Every direction stood a drooling, rotting corpse. We were trapped. I mumbled a few curse words and pressed my back against Michael’s. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Ain’t afraid of these bone heads are ya?” “Of course not.” “Good.” He fired a shot. I swung my katana, sending flesh and blood splattering everywhere. One walker tried to bite; just as he did I rammed my katana blade into its throat. I swung the other, decapitating another walker. It seemed like there were countless walkers. For every one that dropped, two more took its place. I kept telling myself, think of Moira. She needed us. Michael’s gunshots echoed, silencing the skin, heads and blood splattering around us. My clothes were wet with walker blood, but it didn’t matter—I’d swim an ocean full in order to save Moira. Michael and I continued cutting a blood soaked path to the stairway. We were almost at the end. One more floor and we’d meet up with the others. Someone grabbed me. I thought it was Michael, until I felt blood trickle down my arm. Crap. I tried to jerk my hand away. I didn’t feel any pain from a bite, but that could be my body running on adrenaline. Pulling away, the force caused me to drop one of my katanas. Something grabbed my ankle. Before I knew it I was pulled down. My head smacked the floor. Despite being dizzy, I knew I needed to get up. On the floor was the worst position I could be in with a horde of walkers. I rolled over, kicking at the walker who tried to bite my leg. My head throbbed, felt like it may fall off my neck and roll away. I grabbed my other katana and swung, slicing through the abdomen of a walker. Blood and gore spilled onto my jeans and down my arm. Michael yelled, “Kid! Get up!” But I couldn’t. He took a few more shots, then felt him—at least I hoped it was him—grab me by the ankle. Before I knew it, I was being dragged towards the door. I grabbed the pistol from the waist of my pants and fired at a few walkers following us, nailing them in the head. Michael dragged me, leaving carnage behind us. He stopped and yanked me to my feet. We turned, shooting the last four remaining walkers as we backed out the door leading to the stairwell. Michael slammed the door shut and I leaned back against it to catch my breath. If it were a cartoon, my heart would’ve been beating three feet out of my chest. Michael looked at me. Something warm ran down the side of my face. I touched the top of my head and flinch. “Sh*t” Michael shined his flashlight on the wound. He fished in his back pocket, pulling out a black and red bandana and wiped the blood off my face to inspect the cut on the right side of my head right along the hairline. “Damn kid, they got ya good. You didn’t get bit nowhere, did ya?” “No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” Michael nodded, wrapping the bandana around my head to protect the cut. He asked me how many fingers he was holding up, what’s my name, who he was. Once satisfied, he stepped back. I regrouped, shaking off the dizzy spell and ignoring the pain in my head to get ready to charge up the steps with Michael. I reached for my walkie-talkie first—needed to give a status report. “Team Rooker, just left the burn unit. Squirrel!!” “Good, Eve and I are on our way up. All’s clear on our end.” Commander Reedus responded. “All’s squirrelly over here” Em chimed in. “Squirrel!!” Jessica added. “Alright then, everyone, let’s get our behinds up to that floor and get our girl.” Michael and I charged the steps. I pushed myself onward. I had no choice. Even as the pain in my head increased, Michael kept telling me to move my butt. We reached the top of the stairs, looked at each other and proceeded to kick the doors open.
From Inside the Desk of RC Murphy Alert Level – Medium-High
For months now we’ve allowed Zombie Survival Crew brigadiers to assume that the danger from the Unnamed Government Agency (UGA) has been a low-level threat. That their persistence in “meeting” with commanders had ended. We cannot in good conscience allow this to continue.
Our new recruits are probably scratching their heads and asking, “Who the heck is the UGA?” Before the ZSC was formed, they contacted our commander-in-chief, Juliette Terzieff, and asked her to gather a crew of like-minded folks to help them determine the severity of the zombie threat and then teach the public important survival tips so that humanity isn’t wiped off the face of the earth. After that, they wanted the newly formed ZSC to expand, bringing in recruits to form a tight-knit group of “survivors”. During the recruiting process we encountered several problems with UGA agents. Shortly after, commanders Juliette and Anthony Guajardo were abducted. During a rescue mission ZSC forces discovered the UGA were actively experimenting on creating undead soldiers.
The ZSC promptly broke from the UGA and they’ve been on our trail ever since.
Below is a series of communications we’ve intercepted between various UGA agents and their command base, starting in January of this year. You will notice a startling trend in their locations. Actions are being taken to counteract their attempts. Do not worry.
Mission Report—January 2012
Agents on duty: M. Hollister, S. Barr
Location: New Mexico
Status: Op. Rental failed. YBC* and OBC* found alternate transport from AZ before we made contact. Backup plan instated. Followed to their meet with RBC*. Listening devices failed. Event location utilized cell blocks in-room. Face-to-face contact confirmed YBC, OBC, RBC, and LBBC* present. Too many witnesses for Op. Curtain Call.
Mission Report—March 2012
Agents on duty: C. Wolf, V. Smith
Location: New Jersey
Status: First contact established with GBC* and SFC*. RBC in attendance as well. One of the target’s recruits caught our tail. Executed erratic and impressive sweep through freeway traffic to lose us. Recruit has been tagged. Smith will do a follow up with her to use as possible inside agent for the region.
Mission Reports—April 2012
Agents on duty: C. Wolf, F. Williamson
Location: Virginia
Status: Op. abandoned. SFC spotted surveillance equipment and utilized a massive group of costumed civilians to keep us from gathering useful information.
Agents on duty: B. White, G. Robinson
Location: Calgary
Status: Suggest updating the photos on file. We could not locate RBC based on what we were sent and lost her in the air terminal. SFC was easier to spot. Bypassed pursuit and went straight to event. Observation only. Canadian counterparts refused to assist in Op. Curtain Call.
Mission Reports —May 2012
Agents on duty: M. Hollister, S. Barr
Location: Texas
Status: Tailed RBC from TX border to DFW. Thought she made us, then realized she’d gotten lost—not an attempt to shake us despite driving in circles for an hour. SFC, GBC, and OBC arrived. Observation only during event, too many civilians. TSA agents failed to hold departing targets as requested, despite planting lead powder on seat OBC used in shuttle. Request inter-department meeting regarding this failure.
Agents on duty: V. Smith, D. Wiggins
Location: Florida
Status: RBC flying solo. Attempted Op. Curtain Call. She vanished inside a gigantic fast food restaurant. Lost contact for six hours. Tracking on RBC vehicle has been compromised. Attempt to re-tag unsuccessful. Target too suspicious after suspicious attack hours south of locale. (Excuse me, sir, but who made that call?) Suggest agents in Pennsylvania make secondary attempt to plant bug on RBC vehicle.
Over the course of the years, we’ve heard a lot of people claim they know the perfect way to avoid becoming a Happy Meal for the undead set. Sometimes these ideas seem so founded in fact that they may actually work when the Zombiepocalypse kicks into high gear. Unfortunately, after some digging most of these claims prove to be well thought out wishes, but provide little in the way of real safety.
In this series, your Zombie Survival Crew commanders will take a look at some of the more prevalent myths surrounding surviving once the earth is overrun by the undead.
Myth: Zombies can’t swim, so I’m going to live on a boat, yacht, island, etc.
Fact: To put it bluntly, this is a very naïve idea. If we all used this train of thought, people would be digging moats around their neighborhoods after the first zombies crawled out of their graves. All a moat would do is ensure other humans couldn’t gain access to the supplies you’ve stored. But it also isolates you, keeps you separated from those who are capable of helping to protect your family.
The truth is, zombies don’t breathe. Fear of drowning is what keeps a large percentage of people from learning how to swim or going into the water at all. However, after death there is nothing to stop them. Cadavers found in water are somewhat buoyant; they float near the surface during decomposition because of gasses trapped in the chest and abdomen. For normal bodies, this lasts for as long as it takes to dispel the gas. It is unknown how much of the gasses from decomposition stay in a zombie. So while the undead may lack the coordination to compete in the 100 meter freestyle in the Olympics, they can float and move around enough to execute a very basic “doggy paddle” to propel themselves through water.
“Well, what if the zombies don’t float?”
Then you will have a situation like in Land of the Dead (2005) where the zombies entered the water and sank like stones (which is what happens to the dead once their chest cavities burst and release built-up gasses anyways). Once submerged, the undead simply walked along the bottom of the lake. In this instance your only chance to use water to keep the zombies at bay is to find a chunk of land surrounded by swift-moving rivers. The force of the water would knock them downstream, but then you are back to my original point… isolation. How long could you survive on what you have stored and the limited hunting available on an island?
What zombie myths have you heard? Submit your myths in the comments below and we’ll do our best to prove if they are fact or just plain nonsense.
From behind the zombie bunny cages of RC Murphy Alert Level: High
We interrupt our regularly scheduled Commander Monday segment to bring you vital information which may indicate the zombie apocalypse may be heating up.
Often we hear news tidbits that force us to double-check our go bags and weaponry. However, nothing caught our attention about the reality of what we’re facing in the near future like this news article from the Miami Herald.
Here’s a rundown of what the police have released so far. On Saturday May, 26th at approximately 2:00 PM local time, police received reports that two men were in an altercation on a bicycle path alongside a freeway off ramp. Police arrived on the scene and described the situation as a nude man hunched over another man…apparently eating his face.
Yes, you read that right. They claim that the attacker chowed down on the victim’s face. Police used verbal warnings to break up the situation. When that proved ineffective, they shot him. The first shot had no apparent affect. Five more shots were fired into the attacker, according to witness reports. The attacker died on the scene. Paramedics took the victim to a nearby hospital in serious condition—his face unrecognizable.
Police theories right now state that the attacker was suffering from “cocaine psychosis”, which drives a person insane as they literally cook from the inside out (this also explains why he was found nude during the assault).
The police are allowed their theories. We’re allowed ours. Numerous ZSC brigadiers brought this article to our attention, and we thank them for that. This may indeed be a drug-induced psychosis as Miami police claim. Or it could be the first wave in zombie activity. The fact that the man did not react as a human should when the first shot was fired is disconcerting. Lack of pain response is one of the first signs we look for when determining if a person is in fact infected by the zombie virus. It is very rare that psychotic rages push someone to the point of devouring a living human, despite what we’ve seen in the movies. There must be something more to the story than what they’re telling the public.
Also, it is significant to note this incident took place while our commander-in-chief, Juliette Terzieff, is at Spooky Empire May-hem educating the masses on how to respond during a zombie apocalypse. Coincidence? We don’t think so. The chief has checked in to assure everyone her go bag is with her and ready to go. She has given the pre-deployment signal to command, so we are standing by awaiting her further instructions at this time. We are on high alert, and this is NOT a drill.
Please, be on your guard. We will be keeping a close eye on any further reports from the Miami police regarding this situation.
MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital. OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety. STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
We split off from the group and made our way silently toward the eastern staircase. Aside from the big group we’d encountered when we first entered the building, Norman and I weren’t seeing many walkers. We took down five before we made it to the door that opened into the stairwell. “This seems a bit too easy,” Norman said, almost too softly for me to hear. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or thinking aloud. “You okay, Eve?” I looked over to see him watching me. “Yes, I’m fine.” I tossed him a quick glance and added, “I’m worried about Moira. That message from Sean has me a bit freaked out.” “Yeah, me too.” Norman stepped forward to peek in the window of the stairwell door. He leapt back as a grotesque face slammed against the glass. “Damn!” He studied the walker for a moment. We could hear more of them shuffling around behind the door. I pulled my hunting knife out of its sheath and held it so that the blade ran along my forearm. My left hand gripped my compound bow. I nocked an arrow—held between my right middle and forefinger, leaving my two other fingers and thumb wrapped tightly around the hilt of my knife. I turned and covered the hallway behind us while he prepped his weapons. Norman pulled back the string on his crossbow until he heard it lock. He slid a bolt in place, pulled a silenced 9mm Glock out of his waistband and chambered a round. He grabbed his walkie and announced that we were entering the stairwell. “Here goes!” He yanked the door open and stepped to the side as I loosed an arrow into the group amassed there. My arrow went through three skulls before lodging into the fourth, not quite penetrating the creature’s brain. Norman jumped over the fallen and began working his way through the dozen or so other undead that crowded eagerly toward him. I took the flat of my palm and shoved the arrow through the skull of the fourth zombie before sending a second arrow flying to take another out just as it lunged for Norman’s back. The base of the stairwell was far too constricted to use our bows practically. We slung them and focused on knife work. He gestured to the stairs behind me with a nod of his head and used his hands to signal that he wanted me to go first, he would be right behind me. Fortunately, red tinged emergency lights still lit this area and we were able to make it up the two flights to the third floor. Norman studied the map near the door.
Lt Blue Brigade
“Right. It should be a straight shot past this nurse’s station then we head left and the next set of stairs should be just down this hallway. There are,” he did a quick count of the small rooms off the hallway, “only 12 rooms, six on each side, between us and the stairs. We’ll assume they were all occupied when it all went down. Of course there are 48 rooms total in this wing so we should be prepared for worst case scenario.” He reloaded his gun and crossbow as I double checked my guns. As he pushed the handle down, the emergency lights failed, throwing us into pitch black. “Holy crap!” I whispered. “I can’t see anything!” “Here.” I tapped one of the flashlights against his hand and he took it. I swung my bag back around, the other flashlight in my hand. I felt breath on the back of my neck; my heart constricted and goosebumps rose all up and down my arms. This breath was cold and it reeked of rotting flesh. I whirled around and smashed my flashlight against its face before tripping on Norman’s shoe. I fell against the railing, my right foot slipped off the edge of the top stair and I tumbled down, coming to a stop on my back a few feet below. My flashlight rolled down to the landing and flickered on spreading an eerie light up the wall. I couldn’t breathe and my ankle throbbed. I tried to get up and felt sharp pain stab through my ankle. I sucked a breath in through my teeth to keep from crying out. Tears pricked my eyes as I flopped back down. Norman rushed down. He came into view on my left side. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” “It didn’t bite me.” I wanted that to be very clear. “I hurt my ankle when I fell. I don’t think I can walk on it.” He looked down at my ankle and grimaced. I knew it had to be bad. “It’s already swollen and bruised. It looks awful.” He carefully lifted my leg. “I’ll have to help you walk.” He decided after even the tiniest pressure on the joint made me wince. “Norman, there’s no time for that! You need to get to Moira.” “I am not leaving you behind. I have to make sure you get back to your little girl!” I could tell from his tone there was no point in arguing. “I need a way to stabilize it. A splint or something. All I have is an ace bandage and some gauze in my first aid kit. Then maybe I can put some weight on it.” I tried to pull my toes up which earned me a wave of hot pain that cascaded up my leg from my ankle. “Hey!” Norman reached into his back pocket and pulled the map back out. “There’s a medical supplies closet just past the nurse’s station. Think there’s something there we could use?” I shrugged and frowned at him. “I don’t think you should go in there by yourself.” “Come here.” He helped me to my feet and guided me to the top of the stairs. He had me sit against the wall, facing the door. He jogged back down the stairs and grabbed my flashlight. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He pointed to my guns, “Keep those handy.” I took them both out and rested them on my lap. “Be careful in there.” He nodded then slipped through the door. The silence in that darkened stairwell was deafening. As I waited, I fought back tears. I worried that he’d get hurt. I worried that we wouldn’t get to Moira in time. I worried that I’d never see Michelle again. At one point a walker leaned against the door, which failed to latch behind Norman. I shot it and the four that followed. Their bodies kept the door wide open, but I couldn’t move them. I saw a zombie fly backwards, an arrow embedded in its skull and breathed a sigh of relief as Norman came into view. He took the bandage from my kit and carefully wrapped my ankle first. He fit a stiff ankle brace over that and then a walking boot before helping me to my feet. I took a tentative step and while there was still a great deal of pain, it was manageable. “This will work.” We entered the cardiac ward. At one point most of these people were someone’s grandparent, husband, wife. Bodies littered the floor as we made our way to the staircase that’d take us to the sixth floor. We were nearly there when a walker launched itself from behind a curtain and latched on to Norman’s arm. “Son of a…” He fell backwards, as it snapped at him. I limped forward as quickly as I could and drove the blade of my hunting knife to the hilt into the base of its skull. Norman panted, his eyes wide. I took hold of his arm and pulled back his sleeve and examined it carefully. There were indentations where the teeth had tried to penetrate, but the skin remained unbroken. “Thank God,” I whispered. “I guess you and Daryl don’t share the same luck when it comes to sleeves.” “Ha!” He smiled and shook his head. I helped him up and we walked over to the door that would lead to Moira. He signaled on the walkie-talkie that our wing was clear and we were heading up the final 3 flights. “God, I hope she’s alright,” Norman breathed. “Me too.” He opened the door and we began our ascent.
Hang on to your hats! Convention season is in full swing for your Zombie Survival Crew commanders. So far we’ve scouted new troops in Albuquerque, New Jersey, Virginia Beach, and Calgary. Our next stop puts us in Dallas, TX for Texas Frightmare Weekend. How many loyal brigadiers will we see there?
The brave Commanders attending Texas Frightmare are:
We’ll be holding a brand new Con-test during the Saturday and Sunday of Texas Frightmare! The zombie bunnies RC keeps as pets in the Command Center have escaped and we think some of them stowed away in her luggage. Find the zombie bunny hiding on the ZSC table and win something special from us!
One prize per day, so you better be quick! Never know where the zombie bunnies will show up…
If you are following us on Twitter (@TheZSC) you’ve probably noticed that we’re creeping up on 2,000 followers over there. Pass the word along to your friends, family—anyone you want to be safe and secure when the Zombiepocalypse begins. When we reach 2,000 Twitter followers, we’ll pick a random follower to win a signed copy of our first anthology, Undead is Not an Option!
Rating: Unrated (intense violence, disturbing images, and adult language)
Even zombies get the holidays off, apparently. I even received some gifts from the fat guy in a red suit. Unfortunately most of what he gave me consisted of more movies to review. Nice going, Santa. You’re on their side, I know it. Once the holidays were over, I picked a flick at random and ended up watching Colin.
In the early days of the Zombiepocalypse, Colin is attacked and infected. After his death and revival, he ventures out into a city both generous in meals yet dangerous for the undead. Humans—zombie slayers—do their best to keep Colin and his kind down for the final count, his sister amongst them. Will she save him or join him?
Sounds awesome, right? It would have been had the plot not taken until an hour into the movie to actually manifest. Most of the footage ended up being random shots designed to show off special FX makeup skills. While I admit the gore was fun to watch, it would have been even more enjoyable if I could make sense of what was happening. Hardly any of the characters talked. Not just because they’re zombies. The few humans in the film uttered all of two lines each. By forty-five minutes in I realized all the thought and prep work went into the zombie attacks and makeup, with little thought left for an actual script.
There were a few bits that were enjoyable. Colin’s first fight sequence proves that not everyone has a knack for fighting. He must have tried to jab a pairing knife into that zombie’s skull about fifteen times before finally accidentally hitting a spot soft enough to do any damage to the thing’s brain. Why can’t more zombie slayers be this bumbling? I wouldn’t be locked up watching these movies, then.
I know that the filmmakers were trying to make the zombies sympathetic. It only worked in the case of Colin, and even then not very well. The humans in contrast with the undead were too stupid to survive. There wasn’t a challenge for them until towards the end. Even then the zombies took out half the humans that attacked them. Next time these folks want to make a movie, I’d suggest more time on the plot, less time playing with blood. You would have had something here with more thought put in.
I give Colin two-and-a-half diseased brains out of five.
There comes a point where you judge a movie by its cover… and fail miserably—complete with flailing arms and desperate cries of agony. No, the cries weren’t from victims of a zombie attack on the screen. It was me. Crying and beating against the door of my cell. Lets just get this review of DIE-ner over with, shall we?
Here’s the story we were promised: A serial killer hitches a ride to a failing diner in the middle of nowhere. Realizing the opportunity handed him when the place is nearly deserted, he kills the minimal staff and sets up his own sort of murderer’s paradise. That is, until his victims start coming back to life with a hunger for flesh.
What came across felt, for the most part, like a string of bad auditions. There was even the bad audio where one actor could be heard clearly while the other’s performance sounded muffled as they stood behind the camera. Top that off with plain ol’ bad acting and five minutes in I wished for someone to come put me out of my misery. Only one actor, the guy playing the witless sheriff, seemed to be trying to do his part with any believability.
Normally I’d say, well… if the acting sucks and the script isn’t worth a damn, lets see how the makeup effects hold up. These too were disappointing. Protip for wannabe filmmakers: fake blood from the Halloween store looks awful on screen. Opt for a higher quality “Stage Blood” or make your own. A gallon of homemade blood is cheap and doesn’t look like you dipped your actors in red food coloring, then left them to dry in the sun.
This is one of those movies where everyone, even the zombies are Too Stupid To Live. That does not make for entertaining viewing. And where I’d normally try to find something nice to say, I can’t in this case. Oh wait; there was lots of duct tape. Everyone likes duct tape, right?
DIE-ner is bad heaped on bad, topped with bad. I give it one-and-a-half severed feet out of five. Save yourself the misery and avoid this film.
Fact: There may actually be some truth to this one.
For months now we’ve allowed Zombie Survival Crew brigadiers to assume that the danger from the 
Fact: To put it bluntly, this is a very naïve idea. If we all used this train of thought, people would be digging moats around their neighborhoods after the first zombies crawled out of their graves. All a moat would do is ensure other humans couldn’t gain access to the supplies you’ve stored. But it also isolates you, keeps you separated from those who are capable of helping to protect your family.
Often we hear news tidbits that force us to double-check our go bags and weaponry. However, nothing caught our attention about the reality of what we’re facing in the near future like this 
Rating: Unrated (intense violence, disturbing images, and adult language)
Rating: Unrated (Violence, Adult language)