In retrospect, he was actually a very polite and friendly member of the undead, but he was still out for blood - and more specifically, my blood, along with that of my zombie fighting comrades. Just as John had finished slaughtering my buddies and was reaching for me, I woke up in a cold sweat, then dove frantically further under the blankets to squash myself up next to Ben for protection (how he'd protect me I have no idea, since he's pretty much comatose when sleeping and would probably willingly throw me to the zombies if it meant he could go back to sleep afterward). I also refused to look toward the wall lest Zombie John was standing by my bed. (It made sense when I was half asleep, m'kay?)
Anyhoodle, I realized later today - when less wracked by brain curdling fear - that although I've been pretty open about my fear of the undead, I don't have an actual contingency plan in place to deal with them should the need arise. So this morning, I've settled down with a very civilized cup of tea and am planning to rectify the situation.
Zombie survival plans are hardly new - in fact, there are whole websites dedicated to nothing else (some of which are incredibly detailed). A few of the most popular options:
COSTCO
The Plan - The best idea I've seen so far is to retreat to your nearest Costco as fast as possible once you learn of the zombie epidemic - after all, Costco is full of plenty of food, medicine, a solid shelter with few entry points, and enough tools and kitchen implements to create a decent arsenal of amateur weaponry. Variations on this plan include Wal-Mart or your nearest mall as alternate refuges, but both of those seem less secure to me, as do the popular "I'd go to my middle school, it's pretty secure" plans.
The Sticker - There aren't any Costco stores in Australia, and I don't think the other locations sound particularly safe.
GET A BOAT
The Plan - Since zombies can't swim, anyone on a boat is safe. Presumably you would want to be on a large yacht and have enough equipment for fishing and de-salinating water indefinitely, although scurvy would likely be an issue.
The Sticker - We're not anywhere near the coast. We do have a local dam we could probably paddle around in for a few days, but nowhere near the amount of supplies we'd need. (Side note: why do I keep saying WE? I seem to have forgotten already that Ben would gladly feed me to zombies for a good night's sleep. What do I want to save his sorry ass for?)
MOUNTAIN CLIMBING
The Plan - Simply proceed up the nearest mountain, since zombies are notoriously slow moving and would likely find climbing difficult (of course, this is assuming you get the old school zombies, not the new breed that can out run, out fight, and certainly out eat you). The downside, of course, is that you'd either have to carry enough food with you to outlast the siege, or learn to enjoy squirrel carpaccio.
The Sticker - Unfortunately, my town is a little light on handy mountains; although it's tucked away in a valley just over a mountain range, there are limited roads in the area - and since you'd definitely want to be traveling in a car in order to outrace any of the peskier undead, you'd doubtlessly be cornered and devoured well before you could even begin to get near the ridges.
Of course, all of this is assuming zombies make it here in the first place. Since history has clearly shown that the invasion is most likely to start in the USA (or parts of England), they'd either have to doggy paddle across the ocean (and remember, zombies can't swim - take THAT, meatheads!) or take a 15 hour plane flight to get here. Which might possibly be boring enough to kill even the undead.
This really makes the best zombie survival plan quite simple: move to Australia. Any takers?
Geez, I didn't think the bags under John's eyes looked THAT bad. The next time I go splurging on skincare, I suppose I should pick out an eye cream for him.
ReplyDelete