10
Fun Things to Do During the Zombie Apocalypse
I'm delighted to celebrate the V-Day Bites event with Contagious Reads and Annie Walls! Today we are celebrating Rotten Love. Everyone thinks a zombie apocalypse is a bad thing, but don't you think we could find a few fun things to do (when not running from zombies) when the end arrives? I do . . . in fact, I have a list of 10 fun things! Read on, friends :)
I hate
in when people in movies act like they have never seen a movie. Everyone knows
you should head out the front door rather than going up the stairs. Everyone
knows to check the back seat of their car. Everyone knows you should shoot a
zombie in the brain. Am I right? Why do characters in movies always act like
there is no precedence for the apocalypse? In particular, I hated the scene in
Zombieland when the two sisters went to the amusement park. Even if the park was
“zombie free,” common sense dictates that zombies will notice lights and sounds
blaring in a world otherwise devoid of lights and sounds. Drawing attention to
yourself during the zombie apocalypse is just plain stupid, but there are some
fun ways to amuse yourself and stay safe at the same time. The residents of
Hamletville, the survivors of z-day in my novel The Harvesting, have a few
suggestions if and when you ever need to know . . . what can I do for fun during
the zombie apocalypse?
10.
Commandeer a police cruiser! The wire separating the back and front seats will protect you from
anything lurking in the back. Second, there is probably a loaded weapon
inside. Bonus. Third, it can haul ass. Lastly, haven’t you always
wanted to do that? Just don’t fall into a movie trap: don’t turn on the
sirens.
9.
Steal stuff and things! When I say stuff and things, I mean guns and food. Keep
your focus on the bare necessities, but staying alive during the apocalypse is
really fun! Steal away, survivor. Your life depends on
it!
8. Set
things on fire! You might not have any pyromaniac inclinations, but when you
encounter a building full of zombies, strike a match! I know the movies would
probably have you trying to sneak into the building for some desperately-needed
supply, but try to resist. After all, whatever it is, you can probably still
find it at Walmart.
7. Pick
up a new hobby! Haven’t you always wanted to wield a machete? Didn’t you ever
wonder what it would be like to shoot a machine gun? Now is your chance! Not the
physical type? Try learning herblore or how to hot-wire vehicles. There’s
nothing like the apocalypse to force you to try out some new
skills!
6. Try
to figure out your “role” in the group. This will help you determine how long
you’re going to live. Are you the hero? Are you the side-kick? Are you the
romantic love interest? Are you the one who is going to turn to the dark side?
Are you wearing a red shirt? If so, I suggest you change it immediately. Once
you know your role, you can plan accordingly!
5.
Borrowing one from the 2004 Dawn of the Dead, here is a fun game: Pick a
perch on a rooftop. Identify zombie movie star look-alikes and fire away! Make
it a challenge. Who can take out zombie Howard Stern? Zombie Rosie O’Donnell?
It’s fun, safe, and you can shoot a Justin Bieber look-alike from 100 feet
away!
4.
Borrowing one from The Walking Dead . . . zombie gladiator fighting!
Before everything went to hell in Woodbury, the Saturday night entertainment
included coliseum-esque battles. But who needs lions when you have
zombies!!
3.
Borrowing one form Night of the Comet . . . have a getting-dressed montage. Fight zombies while wearing 10-carat
diamonds!
2. Live
like you’re going to die! (Because you probably are.) She/he might be a hot
mess, and they probably haven’t seen a toothbrush or a stick of deodorant in a
month, but you’ll both be dead soon. Put your “zombie goggles” on and go out on
a high note.
1. When
you see you ex walking around all zombified, just walk
away.
Like
tales of the undead? Check out The Harvesting, a dark fantasy
novel that chronicles the z-day event from the perspective of Layla Petrovich.
Layla, returning to Hamletville just as the world begins to die, finds herself
struggling to protect the people of her small home town. But zombies are not her
only problem. Layla soon finds herself in the middle of a battle for our middle
earth. The Harvesting, the first novel in
the series, is available at Amazon.
“This is a Glock 17 semi-automatic
pistol. Most policemen use this gun. Comes with 17 rounds. You pop in the
cartridge like this and . . .” Grandma squeezed the trigger, blasting a
decorative plate with a picture of fruit on it. It used to hang in the dining
room. Ignoring my astonished impression, she handed the gun to me. “Didn’t you
go hunting with the Campbells?”
“Yes. I can shoot a gun, Grandma,”
I said bewildered. Why in the hell did my grandmother have a semi-automatic
pistol? We were standing behind the barn. She had guns laid out on the lid of an
old feed barrel. I set the gun down.
“Good, good, then you’ll have no
problem. Now, this is .44 Magnum, like the Dirty Harry movie. It has good
stopping power. Lift up the safety and boom,” Grandma said pulling the trigger.
The gun barrel let out a resounding noise, shattering Grandma’s old mantle-piece
vase. “The man told Grandma this is a kill-shot gun, very powerful,” she said
and set the gun down.
I picked it up, took aim at an old
porcelain figurine, and fired. The smiling cherub exploded into a puff of
dust.
“Very good! Ahh, here we are,” she
said picking up what looked like a machine gun. “This is Colt 9mm sub-machine
gun. Grandma had a hard time getting this one, but a nice man on the phone, of
course he was Russian, helped Grandma get this one ordered for you. This gun can
shoot almost 1000 rounds per minute. Very fast, no?” Grandma said and launched a
spray of bullets toward the remaining china pieces she had set up on the
fence-post. “Here, you try. Watch for kick back,” she said and handed the gun to
me.
I set the gun down and took
Grandma by the hands. “Grandma, what in the hell is going on? You’re scaring
me.”
“Shoot first,” she said, picking
the Colt back up and handing it to me.
I sighed. The gun, surprisingly,
didn’t feel heavy in my hands. I held it as I had observed Grandma doing, and as
every drug smuggler on T.V. had done, and let off an easy rattle of
ammo.
“You see, very
easy.”
I set the gun back down. “That is
enough, Grandma. Please. What is happening?”
Grandma inhaled deeply and took me
by the chin. She looked into my eyes and then kissed me on both cheeks. “First,
we’ll put guns away,” she said, picking up the weapons. “Oh, I also bought
grenades. Just like on T.V.: pull the pin, throw, it
explodes.”
“Grenades?”
After we had restocked Grandma’s
personal arsenal, we went back inside.
“Sit down in living room. Watch
T.V. I’ll make tea,” she said and wandered into the
kitchen.
“But
Grandma—“
“Tu-tu-tu,” she said to shush me.
“You watch T.V. I’ll come in a minute.”
I flipped on the T.V. to find it
turned on the news channel. At once I saw what appeared to be a riot taking
place. At first it looked like just another scene of violence, but then I
started reading the crawling banners: wide-spread outbreak and rioting in major
US cities in the south and on the west coast. Police had instituted martial law
in LA, Miami, and Atlanta. Outbreak reports were cropping up in all major US and
foreign cities. Airlines had closed all international travel. The United States
President has been moved to a protected location.
The T.V. buzzed with three loud
chimes: the Emergency Broadcast System had been activated. The screen went blue
and after a few minutes, an official looking White House spokesman appeared at a
podium, the emblem of the CDC hanging behind him.
“Grandma? You should come see
this,” I called to her. I felt like someone had poured cold water down my back.
Every hair on the back of my neck was standing on its end. Is this what Grandma
had foreseen? Is this why I was here? Did the spirits tell her
something?
“At this point it appears to be a
highly contagious flu-like pandemic,” the Director of the CDC was saying.
“Citizens are urged to stay inside
their homes. Military personnel have been dispatched to major US cities,” the
White House spokesman added.
A reporter asked why the pandemic
seemed to happen almost overnight. I noticed then that the press were all
wearing surgical masks.
“Incidents of flu have been
steadily on the rise for the last one week which has exacerbated accurate
diagnosis. The symptoms of this particular strain resemble seasonal flu at the
onset—body pain, fever, and vomiting—but gradually worsen with additional
non-normative symptoms,” the Director of the CDC
explained.
“Non-normative? What does that
mean, and how is it being spread?” a female reporter asked. I recognized her
from the President’s regular Press Club. I’d seen her in person once at a
downtown café. She’d been eating a massive plate of
fries.
The Director of the CDC gave a
side-long look toward the White House spokesman. “Citizens should avoid direct
physical contact with the sick until we can pin-point the cause,” the CDC
Director said at last.
“Is there a vaccine or
immunization?” another reporter asked.
“Until the cause is identified, it
is difficult to develop a vaccine, but we are working around the clock analyzing
possible contaminants,” the Director replied.
“What is the mortality rate?”
someone asked.
The Director of the CDC looked
uncomfortable. “It is difficult to ascertain. At this point the mortality rate
appears to be 100%, but post-mortem there appears to be brain
activity-”
“No further questions at this
time,” the White House spokesperson said with a scowl and ushered the Director
of the CDC out of the room.
Grandma sat down beside me,
setting a serving tray on the coffee table. She picked up the remote and muted
the T.V.
In the far off distance, we heard
the alarm on the town fire hall wail. It was used to call in emergency volunteer
fighter-fighters and medical personnel or to warn of tornado. Three rings to
call for help. Seven rings for tornado warning. The alarm wailed and did not
stop.
“When I was 12 years old, my
grandma knew I had the sight,” my grandmother began. “My mother only had the
gift a little. She had, what you call, good instincts, but she never heard the
spirits. I was lucky. I was born with the mark of the bear,” she said, showing
me the small birthmark on her knee shaped like a bear’s paw, “so everyone knew I
would have the gift. But when I was 12, my grandmother sat me down in her living
room and poured me a cup of tea,” she said as she poured me a cup. I noticed
that she had placed two slices of a strange looking mushroom in the water. “My
grandmother told me, while I was lucky to hear the spirits, there are other
things in this world, some good, some evil. There exists spirits, demons,
creatures who are not like us. She wanted me to see them. She wanted me to be
safe from them. She said that until the great eye inside is awake, we do not see
them. She said, you must awaken and see. That is what my grandmother told me as
she handed me a cup of tea,” my grandma said and then handed the mushroom laden
tea to me.
I took the cup. I looked back to
the T.V. and saw strange images of people in hospital gowns being shot by
armored military service.
“Drink,” Grandma encouraged.
I did as she asked, polishing off
the cup.
“My grandma loved me. She tried to
protect me by making me see the otherworld. She was right. Afterward, I saw and
heard spirits and those other things in this world. This has kept me away from
evil and has helped me see good. Did you know there are forest spirits living
right behind our house? Ehh, anyway, my grandma loved me, so she made me see. I
drank the tea then slept for almost two days. When I woke, I could
see.”
My head felt woozy. Images on the
screen melted into a strange haze. I reached out for my grandmother.
“You sleep now. I’ll go close the
fence and bar up the doors. It has already begun,” she
said.
“What has begun?” I asked
drunkenly. The room spun, and I felt like I might be
sick.
“The harvest,” she said. I heard
the front door open and close, and then everything went
black.
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Great post Melanie! :D Thanks for joining the tour!! <3
ReplyDeleteI'm in good company, Lindsay :)
DeleteLindsay, everyone has zombie fever, including me. Why, even HS is looking for "Zombie Killer" ammo. Great review Melanie crystalbluern at onlineok dot com
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, DebraKay :)
DeleteI love the picture of Forest Gump running away from the zombies. It's hilarious. I agree with the learning of new hobbies like hot wiring a car and setting things on fire. It might draw attention but hopefully, it also sets on fire zombies who don't remember to stop, drop, and roll.
ReplyDeleteLol, good point, Alicia :)
DeleteThis was funny. I like your ideas!
ReplyDeleteThanks Kristin! Good luck in the giveaway!
DeleteThanks for the amazing giveaway!
ReplyDeleteelizabeth @ bookattict . com