Chapter Seventeen: Tending to the Sheep

Chapter Seventeen: Tending to the Sheep

 

    Val scanned the crowd in particular the brutish female deputy with the pretty face screaming at Robert. Everyone was stunned to silence save Deputy Autumn Wilson "fuck did you come from?" Val was clearly taken aback but she found her backbone responding "up there and must you yell. Why are you so damn angry we haven't done anything to you?" The caramel skinned woman scoffed hands on her hips just above her pistols "no Miss Maryfuckingpoppins you haven't, but your boyfriend here has. He threw my partner’s mother to a pack of those puss-encrusted bastards! Under the incorrect assumption she'd been bitten by one of those zombie things!" She motioned in Joshua Lanes general vicinity. Val gasped turning bright red to face Robert who could not hold her gaze glancing at the floor instead. "Robert you didn't...." Valerie breathed deeply. "It was a mistake..."Robert trailed off whispering "a fucking mistake made in the heat of the moment." Above silhouetted in the night Trevor smiled "oh Robert that will never do." He mouthed to himself keeping Robert along for the ride would ensure his popularity. Not to be deterred Deputy Wilson interjected moving to peer up the hatch "and how did you get past all those undead flesh hungry fuckers outside, and who in the hell is ‘we’ you’re alone Ms. Lady!" On cue, Trevor dropped silently down the hatch landing behind Autumn with a faint rippling of air. "Her name is ..." was all Trevor managed having misjudged Autumn’s disposition, training, and speed. She drew with her left hand tightly gripping a Glock. The "pop" signaled a hallow point slug being deposited into Trevor Clevantes flawless forehead. Everyone scattered filling the cramped space with whimpers and shrieks of "holy shit!" Autumn hit the floor scampering back to Josh who had his weapon unsteadily aimed at the motionless entity standing before them with its eyes shut. Cleo's cigarette hung limply off his bottom lip. His shotgun too dangled weakly from one hand pointed at the floor. Both fell in unison to the filthy concrete tiled floor. Josh pulled Autumn to his side as they waited for the strange young man with the big leathery black bat wings fall to the floor dead. "Trevor!" screamed Val.

 

 

  For Trevor every moment drug painfully on stretching out for an eternity. He swayed unsteadily in the middle of the room. A lone black jagged hole appeared over his right eyebrow. A black goblet of thick syrup like liquid quivered on the wounds edge. It hung there like frozen sap on a maple tree. The droplet obviously is what passed for blood in a vampire. It quivered and seemed to be alive. He took a step back his teeth clichéd like a vise thick jaw muscles clearly rippling beneath his skin. Val moved in flanked by Robert but before they could catch him, Trevor held up his left hand freezing them where they stood. Steeling himself as the hole begins to seal itself the black blood bubbled like water left to boil. It vanished leaving a vapor trail with a slight hint of sulfur as it retreated into Trevor. The wound finally healed itself leaving no visible scar. The hyperventilating panting of half a dozen human beings along with the moans of the legion zombies were the only audible sounds. "Madame" Trevor called through his locked jaw! He pauses clearing his throat as he attempts to compose himself. “While I assure you that a bullet is not sufficient enough to kill me!" A quick deep-throated heave as if he was dislodging popcorn stuck in his throat. Trevor spat which he despised doing propelling the head of the flattened bullet onto a mustard yellow table with a clatter then off on to the floor. Returning to his unflappable demeanor clam and well spoken, he was no longer the only pale a colorless entity in the room. "That it is quite painful which I find unpleasant, so please make sure that you do not do such a thing again.” Trevor holds his thin index finger aloft. He locks eyes with Autumn. “Unless you Miss are prepared to be on the receiving end of some unpleasantness ... yourself?" Straightening his rumpled clothes Trevor placed a hand on Robert’s back and unleashed a full faced corrupt smile revealing his perfect white fangs. "See that everybody I told you do you jackasses believe me now?" chanted Robert Berry. The world worst straight man played right into the overly dramatic Broadway worthy spectacle. What followed next is something witnessed mostly at funeral appropriately enough. The dammed up emotions barley in place until one lone soul releases it with a wail, scream, or muttered tear-choked phrase. Elegant yet fragile in nature Mosa Doubi the patriarch of the Doubi Clan burst into a loud prayer. Her words are unintelligible to everyone except her husband. Ali understood his native east African dialect. Pouncing on her children covering them kneeling as she wept openly cuddling her the kids to her bosom. Ali himself broke where he stood as rushed to his family behind the counter. The twin boys Stan and Dan whose deceased and reanimated father owned the farm where Cleo Miller worked sat welded to their chairs. Cleo took tentative steps back tripping over his own boot covered feet. Cleo’s own shotgun smacked him squarely in the face causing his nose to bleed. He scurries on weak limp legs across the cold floor. Cleo pushes into Autumn and Josh both deputies weapons aimed at Trevor. The latter clutched his pistol so fiercely his knuckles were cracking aloud. Moving with a purpose from behind the twins is a fortyish slim trim divorcee. Ellen prided herself on a well-manicured appearance threw herself at Trevor's feet clutching his legs. "Dear Sweet Jesus ...please save me" she implored glancing up to meet Trevor's seemingly angelic face while her Grey eyes spilling tears down her cheeks. With no parents to disobey and mock Stacy had any guidance or moral compass. "Me too please." The cheerleader looking girl waving her hands as she came to kneel with Ellen. Sherry Somerset did not know much about this new world, her beloved husband gone her, rock, provider and protector. She knew two things she would make Tim proud no matter how she met her end, and nothing was more important that the child she cradled. Ignoring the dark fairy tale unfolding around her she soothed her child. Fear be damned she would meet her God or die defending her baby. Both events would occur in time but she would be on her feet not her knees when the time of judgment came. Josh's feelings betrayed him his mouth uttered words without getting clearance to do so. "The...The hells going on dude..." muttered the young Deputy losing his family, his, boss, his town crashed down mercilessly on the young man. “Zombies...dead rising ... vampires it is all bullshit ... the government put some shit in... in our water or somethin'. It’s not real I tell ya not at all!" dropping his gun to the floor beginning to hyperventilate himself shuffling in circles Autumn Wilson recognized her partner coming unhinged. She knew the rookie needed time to digest the shitty new world and yes, Autumn knew this plague had encompassed the globe. She needed Josh if either of them was survive springing to action bringing the butt of her Glock down on the back of his head rendering him unconscious instantly. Wrestling him to the floor squeezing him tight to feel his heartbeat and pulse satisfied she had not killed Josh. Autumn refocused her attention and Glock on Trevor. "While I don't deny my partners feeling, I don't share his outlook on life." She met Trevor's gaze and held it earning some respect from the Vampire who had just thrown these refuges world into a spiraling black hole of utter chaos. From the floor holding Josh "I will not bow to you far as I am concerned you are one of those fucking things outside on steroids look at me or my partner the wrong way and we will have a problem understand!" Trevor nodded to the police officer. His attention focused on the back of the room past the catatonic Li Lee and Jim her guardian. "Useless fools the lot of you" Trevor thinks to himself nodding silently. He sees a girl dressed black the way the teens of this generation was prone to. Trevor’s mind wanders back in time. He had known “Goths.” These sheep would run screaming into the night if they had ever come face to face with one. Trevor’s devious smile widened.

 

 

Next Chapter June 1st!

Chapter Sixteen: Guest of Honor

Chapter Sixteen: Guest of Honor

　Night was approaching from the west as Robert Berry heaved his large cumbersome frame through an emergency access hatch to the roof of the now besieged Subway restaurant in Effingham. Over the last several hours he and Jim Rivers had tried unsuccessfully to explain their current arraignments with no success to the survivors they'd met. He struggled to comprehend the idiocy of people. It was a fact that they refused to accept the very real existence of Vampires. Even as they dodged flesh hungry zombies these nut jobs still had to hold onto their delusions. Below the dead fought like ants on a crumb to gain access to the small restaurant. First Robert scratched his head then went about absent mindedly picking at the dirty dressing covering the wound on his throbbing arm. Of course he had to consider the source as most people in the restaurant voiced nothing but pure hatred for him. Attempting to save himself by tossing the mother of the town’s former high school football star and current Deputy Sheriff to a horde of rampaging zombies was apparently frowned upon. Once they were back barricaded in to cramped confines of the trendy deli shop. Ali Doubi the stout African shop owner unlocked the doors putting his wife and children at risk to protect the remaining townspeople. He huddled in the rear of the restaurant with his wife, adult daughter and teenage son. The Doubi family had been fixtures in Effingham for over twenty years and they owned the humble brick building which was currently keeping them all from being eaten alive by the living dead. Robert became public enemy number once again after Jim inadvertently mentioned the death of Deputy Somerset and Robert’s "accidental" role in said event. Ally Somerset the Deputies chestnut haired six year had been inconsolable by her mother Sherry. The child's wails drove the horde outside crazy with blood lust. They did what they could to sooth her but to no avail.

     Robert sat on the building glancing at the stars breathing in the crisp air a simple pleasure compared to the stale air and unwashed bodies amassed on the ground. He mulled that word “alone” over. After all he had been through starting out by himself when the dead came to the Windy City. He found Val and she found him together they’d managed to survive. Now Things were so bad and as usual from his own making he damned near missed Trevor. "Aww God..." he mumbled softly the closest he could come to a prayer. He realized that if the moon rose and Trevor did not appear he was dead, Val was dead and so were they. “You know...." Coming from behind him a voice tinted with a slight hint of southern drawl. The wiry man from below continued "They all say I should shoot you once I gets up here." Tossing a Camel Cigarette between his lips with ease and extending the pack in Roberts’s direction. "No...Thank you…” Robert politely refused as Cleo lit up his smoke. The slender farm hand sporting a bald head, beet red skin along with an impressive double barrel shotgun this time extended his hand. "Cleo Miller and you are Robert.......um Berry I believe your friend said." Robert nodded and shook the man’s hand with his well worn paw after placing the pistol in his waistband. With a deep sigh "yes… that's me..." Cleo took a seat next to Robert "Robert Berry the consummate loser, wrong choice maker, and all around asshole at your service!" Cleo grinned and much to Robert’s chagrin revealed a set of nearly perfect full set of white teeth. "There go all my redneck teeth jokes..." thinks Robert to himself. “Waitin' on your friend I assume huh....the vampire that is" Cleo smirked. One thing Robert hated was being mocked. He had to admit it if it wasn't for their chance meeting and seeing it for himself. Even after the onslaught of the living dead Robert wouldn't have believed in vampires. "Yes and no my friend…” he bowed his head to his chin "Trevor...." "That's the vampire guy right!?" Cleo interjected holding up a finger. The fetid wails and growls wafting up to their ears from the zombies below "Yes, that's right." Robert continued just above a murmur "Trevor is the least of my concerns..." he was choking up he felt pain grip his heart. For he had no idea he came to care for Valerie Couts as much as he did, she was the only bright spot in an otherwise dead dismal world. "Val was with him when I saw her last after the coach crashed. If he is by some miracle alive then so....so is she, and that my friend is who I am truly waiting on." Cleo took a deep drag from his smoke cherishing the stale smoke before exhaling it the white chemical cloud danced about in the breeze before vanishing. "Hum … wow so you’re not some unfeeling heartless asshole like they all say?” Cleo paused for effect "or is that only when its some one you care for?" Coming into the lean man’s personal space bubble just above a whisper "You know what I did was right .... Those things bite you... you die... you come back and you kill others...." Robert scolded. Cleo shook his head before mashing out his cigarette butt "agreed one hundred and ten percent Mister Berry. However Susan Lane was anemic an here's the kicker....mauled by a horse two days ago at a rodeo in town, and your are indeed right bout Tim Somerset he was bitten by one of'em, but was a fuckin' hero yesss … sir and you why my friend....your a murder plain and simple." Robert threw his head back he was weak all over his body refused to obey any command his breath came in heaping gasps. Robert Berry began to dry heave as even his stomach revolted against him. Rolling to his hands knees mercifully Robert began to spew bile and vomit over the pebble tiled roof. "Jesus!" he cried out "My God..." choking back tears and thick strand of saliva laced vomit. Robert Berry curled himself into a ball as Cleo Miller climbed back down the hatch his damage done. Robert Berry realized as he lay shivering alone watching the sun finally release its hold on the sky. The darkness slowly enveloped the town as night fell. Trevor's words rang true they weren't that different at all except Trevor would do anything to ensure his species survival. As Robert would do anything to ensure his own. "I don’t know how in the name of God I can face him. Hell I can’t face any of them for that matter!?” He thought pushing up on all fours. The black of night at his back shrouds a gift wafting down from the Heavens.

    "Arise dear Robert there's no need to kneel." Trevor's words echoed like bullets as he touched down with Val in tow. Drawing his wings gracefully back the young vampire intentionally went for the dig before Robert could offer one up. "Robert!" she yelled moving from Trevor's grasp throwing herself to the ground covering Robert‘s body with her own. "Val I....." the husky man stammered sitting up with Val in his embrace. "I thought I'd lost you guys!" Clearly Trevor was taken aback by the unintentional emotional out pouring. "Why Robert…” he began "It appears that you have missed me, or are you in such dire straits that even my appearance it better than whatever alternative you face?" Robert stands up without letting Valerie go in the process. “Fuck you Trevor!” Robert shouts defensively. Smiling the athletic young ancient creature sighed "Ahh that's better my friend much better." Trevor brushes away pieces of the demolished coach from his hair dismissively. Finally releasing the young woman from his bear hug "how did you guys survive?" inquired Robert. With glee Val starts to explain how they came to be locked in the lavatory of the wrecked coach. Val tucks a wayward tuft of hair behind her ear. “Trevor grabbed me pulling me into the restroom which was thankfully completely sealed from sunlight.” “Depends on who you asked” Robert thought to himself. “He braced himself against the door and kept the zombies out all day Robert!" She was blushing and the jealousy rose like acid in Roberts’s throat. "Alright we need to plot our next move my friends as it is down to us three again." Trevor spun walking to the edge of the small roof peering down at the unending tidal surge of deadly puppets beating at the structure. "How did you come to draw such attention to yourself you must have every one of those vile abominations with twenty miles stalking you." Trevor Clevantes stood momentarily mesmerized by the horde and their pack like behavior. The zombies in the rear tear at those ahead of them to get closer to their prey. This process was repeated over and over as the living dead whipped themselves into a frenzy bent on satisfying the only instinct they had left to feed on human tissue. "Well that's where you’re wrong leech." Robert was oozing sarcasm. "Not only are Jim and Li still alive those survivors the cop was talking about are all down there hold up all fourteen of them!" Trevor moved back from the ledge "really I thought the Deputy said there were fifteen survivors." "Well shit happens." The garbage man interjected clearly nervous "the bottom line is we now have our own little clan o' survivors we have to deal with.” Puzzled Trevor spoke in a little more than a hushed tone pulling his charges closer. “We must be very careful how we broach the subject of me being a vampire prince and all. For even in this day and age some of your kind might still find it tough to swallow. No pun intended of course." Robert motioned to the hatch "well you see I.....we already told them about you and Val." "How did they take it?" the vampire quizzed as he peered into the small rectangular opening. "They of course didn't believe us… me and Jim that is" at that moment the only thing that hid the blush rising in the man’s face and neck was his dark skin and the vacant black night. "Well there's a shock!" snorted Trevor "So then Robert you first that you may properly introduce us if you please." Robert strode over to the hatch internally infuriated that no matter what he tried the chalk white leech always made him feel as if he were his personal man servant.

 

    As Robert shimmed his girth through the hatch dropping down into the restaurant it was harder to gather which was more pronounced. The constant clatter of the undead encircling the building went up in the air like music. Masses of putrid corpses seek but the smallest opening to exploit. Versus the other obvious factor constant clatter and noise made by the group. The huddled humans appear to show no desire to mask their presence from the dead. No thought of "Hey if we be quiet maybe a few hundred of them will wander away." They just sat resigned to wait for the end. Robert was nervous but he steadied himself now he could prove them wrong. Worse case scenario "fuck'em all" he knew Trevor would honor his word, and could at the very least carry him and Valerie. Together they would find a place that was devoid of festival seating for zombies. "Folks listen" a slight stammer "they're here. My friends I told you guys about." Almost in unison all heads turned away picking up where they'd left off in conversation. Rob wouldn't be denied his "I told you so" not even Jim and Li paid him any mind. Shouting down the conversation "You know fine fuck the lot of you! I realize I made a mistake...or several, but on the roof is someone who could help us get out of here!" He scolded the self absorbed group. Autumn Wilson moved though the crowd her uniform tattered and stained with blood. Having been raised as the only daughter of a Chicago police officer autumn is completely heterosexual. She unintentionally came off quite butch to most people. Well narrow minded me with small egos among other things. She wore no make up her jet black hair pulled tight in a no fuss ponytail which still held in spite of all she’d been through recently. Deputy Wilson who's Puerto Rican and black mixed race background gave her fair skin and high cheek bones could have been a model, accountant, banker or house wife, but written into every helix of her DNA was police officer. Toned and some what curvy Ms. Wilson had long since lost all semblance of what most people call tact. Parting the crowd she speaks "look you thick bald fuck you've got to have the biggest balls of anyone I've ever met! While we can't agree on much given our current state we all have unanimously voted to shoot your husky ass and chuck you the fuck over the side of the building here before we die!" Fuming autumn thought nothing of coming nose to nose with a man who stood several inches taller than her and out weighed her by a hundred or so pounds. "Play your nut job mind games elsewhere or I'll give Josh the okay to pop your asshole out like a shucked oyster!" Glancing over Robert’s beefy shoulder autumn went silent as did all the other occupants of the Subway. They watched dumbfounded as a petite blond clumsily makes her way down though the hatch. Val felt every eye on her as a pinch of modesty returned to her attempting to straighten her rumpled and dirty clothes Valerie placed herself at Roberts’s side. Listening in from above a treacherous shrewd Trevor Clevantes gathered information which he planned to utilize when the purpose suited him. He knew much of the human race as a young vampire he was forced to study them not just as food but how to manipulate their wills to suit his. For Trevor’s loyalty was to Robert and Valerie and to a lesser extent Jim and Li only. These pawns they had stumbled upon could prove themselves useful.

    His father had once taught him the "Rule of Three" which simply put meant. "There were only three types of Humans in the world." Arthur Clevantes was powerful among men and godlike among vampires when he spoke it was hypnotic impossible not to listen to. He still heard his father‘s words echo in his mind. "The first is a Sheep who will almost instantly upon seeing a vampires true form fall to their knees and swear unto you their lives and the lives of all they hold dear. These humans are the most common, abundant and useful natural resource we vampires posses. They fear us, pray to become one of use, are attracted to us, and look to us for guidance.” His well spoken father never had to raise his voice his words carried a weight that would crush most men’s tongues. “Secondly my son is the Deer no matter what they see in front of them what their petty little eyes behold can not fathom nor digest that there is an immortal god in their midst. Once you reveal the truth to them they shut down becoming worthless and in some cases dangerous. You slaughter them the only reason they exist is sustenance for you.” Trevor nodded when he spoke those words that day long ago and today on the rooftop. He found himself nodding as if he was hearing the words for the first time. That day in his father‘s court he felt privileged. “Thirdly and last but not least is the Lion fierce and unyielding upon seeing your true form they hold onto the belief that they are not inferior to you but worthy of being you equal you can not break or bend them. With these select few you use your greatest strength your mind by bringing them in to your fold using them as overseers for your Sheep or you eviscerate them in plain sight as a show of power. Thus son you further indoctrinate your Sheep while winning over a few Deer in the process.” Trevor had lived a relatively long life in human terms and in all of his travels his father’s words never left him. Nor where they ever proven wrong the only anomaly was the human child easy to frighten hard to gauge and they always spoke the truth that only youth could see. Many a vampire had the chink in their armor exposed by the pure eyes of a child. From the crying infant who screeched whenever one was near. Right down to the “mommy there’s something different about that man” of an innocent little girl passing by him in the street. Trevor made himself ready for the show.

A zombie story with bite!

The Living Dark: Chapter 17: Buggin Out

Guys check out this blog and it's Facebook page. Give these guys a like and a follow then share. Please and thank you!

Have a better "Plan B!"

I see and here a lot if folks talking about their prep for the Zombie Apocalypse. I hear grand plans of fortifications and weapons stockpiling. A word of advice to you all from Commander Luckett here. Drive to the edge of your town, city or whatever. Look at the sign that says "Population (insert number here)." Can you build a fort to hold off that many Zombies? Can you stockpile enough guns and ammo to put down that many zombies? Didn't think so! The moral of the story is this "You'd better have a plan B that involves moving out to a less populated area." The alternative is your agonizing death!

Have a nice day!

Commander Luckett

Come see what's on Darkdiscussions.com

Click on orange link!


Dark Discussions podcast



The good folks at www.darkdiscussions.com saw my Survivors List and wanted to put it up on their website in it's entirety. How could I say no?! I Couldn't so here is The C.A.L.L.S 1 - 25!

Part 2 "The Commanders Apocalyptic Listing of Living Survivors" Types 6 -10.

6. The Badass Survivor - This muscle bound "Alpha Male" type of survivor is beneficial up to a point. He’s a blunt object used to beat things into submission. As a leader you must lead and fight switching between “Politician and General” with ease. Like every “General” you will need well trained, loyal and eager “Soldiers.” He will be a human weapon but he will also lacks discipline. Unlike an inanimate weapon a living weapon is prone to break downs due to this lack of discipline. “The Badass Survivor” is a broadsword not a scalpel and like any other weapon he has to be kept in check and focused. Same as an unloaded gun its best to keep him pointed "down range" because he is apt to go off with an unprovoked "bang" at any time. This guy is always ready for a fight and sleeps with a loaded weapon (he did this long before the zombies made a mess of things). When the time comes for a fight this guy doesn't back down and he doesn't lose often but he won't back down or admit the odds aren't in his favor. Now you know why a guy with such traits isn’t a leader. It’s because he has chosen a lifetime of exercising and working out. He builds all the muscle of his body to their maximum except the ones that count his heart and his mind. This type of survivor is an asset to have the more the better but he will test your leadership skill as playing nice with others isn't something he's been able to do since he slid from the womb. There is the rare “Badass Survivor” who is a well honed blend of mind and muscle. Keep you eyes open he’s like finding a diamond in an living dead world.



7. The Overly Analytical Survivor - This Survivor was probably an accountant or IRS auditor before things went to shit and zombies ran amok. This person will make a list and over complicate any situation. In the Zombie Apocalypse this could be extremely dangerous or even fatal but when used in moderation. This survivor type can take care of the burden of food stockpiling, ammo rationing and other important task while you focus on survival and escape plans. Make sure you can trust this individual though before you go handing them the keys to the kingdom. Because as adapt as they are at making list and organizing they are probably equally skilled at the fine art of deception. Using a shell game of numbers to benefit themselves before cutting out with what you have fought to stockpile. Don’t get fooled yourself because your followers. Are actually only following you for your shelter, food and protection. That being said they will follow whoever can provide them with these things. When the dead walk “Living Survivors” loyalty will be fleeting as the concepts of peace and quiet, but you will be left to discern who’s with you and whose using you. However when used correctly every outpost will need several of these Survivor Types but remember they are not for Battle or Escape Planning as they will over complicate the shit out of things.





8. The Hoarder Survivor - Now popularized by reality TV but in your group this “Survivor Type” is not someone who is pity inducing or laughably mentally ill. This “Survivor Type” is greedy and selfish but they are also in most instances sly and coy. They're playing a game with you and your group taking a bullet here and a few cans of food there. Nothing serious if you have you "Overly Analytical Type" to watch you stockpile. The "Hoarder Survivor" also will likely draw the ire of you "Badass Survivor Types." Who will likely kill the "hoarder" the first chance they get. When you recognize the "Hoarder Type" in your midst they must be dealt with immediately and decisively. No other "Survivor Type" will cause a fracture in you happy compound faster. They can not be changed period for some people the compulsive behavior that breeds “Hoarding.” Also causes “The Hoarder Survivor” to show no concern for themselves or others. They’re dealing with a crippling “Mental Illness” that drives their actions. The "Hoarder Type" will be the first to abandon your and your group cutting out the back door at the first sign of trouble. They will grab useless items before fleeing or even warning anyone else. I'd also like to point out that the nature of this person is as such that they probably won't lock the door when they leave. There by jeopardizing everyone and everything you've worked so hard to compile. Here’s the trick if you can focus this person “compulsions” and use them to your advantage. Even your list loving “Overly Analytical Survivor Type” can’t compete with the “Hoarder Survivor.” You will have at your disposal a person who without a list can pinpoint an item within seconds in what looks a chaotic junk pile. A skill than can come in handy when seconds count. This "Survivor Type" must be dealt with but you don't have to kill them. Either kick them out but with provisions to survive or have someone to police them day and night.



9. The Scardy Cat Survivor - This "Survivor Type" unlike everyone else isn’t just scared they are literally paralyzed with fear. We’ve all heard the phrase “they had the shit scared out of them!” Well now you’ve met just such a person. Unlike the "Catatonic Survivor Type" this "Scardy Cat" babbles instead of talks and genuinely creeps every else out. They aren’t quite and will give away your position. This “Survivor Type” is prone to fits of rage or vocal outburst. Which given you current state isn’t good because if you attract one zombie you will eventually attract hundreds. Meanwhile they’re consuming valuable supplies and taking up space. They can't be counted on for anything and are literally fucking useless. You risk the lives of others by giving the "Scardy Cat" any responsibility or including them on any missions. They tell you what they can't do or won't do and while we aren't condemning anyone for being scared. They need to pitch in or be pitched the fuck out! You would think someone who wasn’t contribution would try and slink off and not be noticed or simply stay out of the way. Not “The Scardy Cat Survivor” they make demands and also feel that they should be included in on ever decision. When they do so the “Scardy Cat” will test your patience and challenge your right to lead the group. All the while this coward will tell everyone what they shouldn’t be responsible for. This "Survivor Type" is utterly useless and will test your moral compass during the Apocalypse. For while they aren't bad people there's already enough "dead" weight in the world you will have to bear. To paraphrase "Red" from The Shawshank Redemption "Get busy living or get busy dying."



10. The Hero Type - This "Hero Type" is the leader and everyone looks to them for support and the pressure is heavy. Only the "Hero Type" is equipped to bear the burden of erasing everyone's short comings. This "Survivor Type" makes those around them better and brings out character traits most people didn't know they possessed. A “Hero Type” will draw their strength from internal motivations and courage. They have no predetermined size, shape, race, religion, or gender. With this “Survivor Type” looks can be deceiving. There are only a few "True Hero Types" in this world and even fewer will survive as they are prone to helping others and refuse to leave "anyone" behind. A "True Hero" will help every one of the other twenty five “Survivor Types” as well as any of the other types yet to mention of which there are dozens more. In life people were drawn to this "Survivor Type" he or she is the type of person that when they speak everyone around will in generally listen. They command respect by actions and virtue. The "Hero Types" biggest down fall is looking for the best in other and selflessly giving of them. More than one “Hero Type” will be drug down to their demise by the living dead as someone they helped survive or have saved from death watches from a hiding place. This "Survivor Type" is your "Knight in Shining Armor" and should be your most prized assets. They will help above all others and are honest and can be taken at face value. They should be watched though for signs of pressure, stress and doubt. For their self confidence can be the difference between the survival of the entire group and its demise at the hands of the undead. The key to remember about the “Hero Type” is they will never ever tell you that they are a “Hero.” The true burden of leadership is never asked for it’s inherited. This should be you as a leader!

The "Commanders Apocalyptic Listing of Living Survivors" Listings 1 - 5

Are you a leader of a Post Zombie Apocalypse Compound/Fort/Base or group? If you are then I have a pivotal tool for you. It started out as a joke but morphed in a The “Commanders Apocalyptic Listing of Living Survivors” or C.A.L.L.S for short. A comprehensive Post Apocalyptic Leadership Guide. We always hear a lot about “prepping for the apocalypse.” This usually brings to mind stockpiles, weapons, transportation and other such tenants of “Survivor Lore.” What hasn’t been addressed is the perspective of a “leader” during the Zombie Apocalypse. Weather you were chosen, thrown in, appointed or self - appointed to your position. One thing is certain you’re going to have to deal with broad spectrum of people. With little or no choice in the matter as the goal is to survive against the living dead. So if you’re ready to answer The C.A.L.L.S, I present you with:

　

　

The Commanders Apocalyptic Listing of Living Survivors:

　

　

1. The Political Survivor - A "Political Survivor" is no different than a modern day "Politician." They will let you do all the work build the shelter, set up the barricade and stock the food. Then they will come along when the hard work is complete and tell you how they should be the leader. They are exceptionally skilled talkers and will plant the seeds of disharmony in your camp before telling you they were only “trying to help” and that “only they can get you out of this.” It’s like having a snake doing your negotiating for you. “The Political Survivor” believes in the benefits of hard work your hard work. These folks are just like what their namesake implies “Political.“ They use drawn out and convoluted processes to make even them simplest decisions seem complex. While they are focused on controlling the masses wielding power and influence. The dead however will keep coming as a truly unified force with one goal. When it comes to your “Political Survivor” they are better at asking questions than they are at answering them. Most importantly when things fail under their rule as the always will. They go into “blame mode” and in case you’re wondering it will never be their fault. This survivor can stay only if you put them in their place immediately. This “Survivor Type” will complicate the Zombie Apocalypse as they have complicated the current state of the world.

　

　

2. The Psycho Survivor - This person is usually a guy and was either "nutty as a fruit cake" before the zombie apocalypse or is using the dead walking as an excuse to do all the deviant things he wanted to do in life. It does not matter how they came to be “psychotic.“ Weather they were this way before the outbreak or they have snapped from the pressure of the crisis. A “Psycho Survivor” is simply going to wreak havoc in this new world until he or she dies or is killed. All they are concerned with is what their disjointed thought process can conceive and that’s not good for you or your people. There is no difference between “giving in” and “giving up” when the dead rise. The problem with having a "Psycho Survivor" in you midst is they are more dangerous than the zombies these guys or gals are as likely to harm you or others as they are to effectively kill the dead. They aren’t concerned with survival tactics or fortifications. In their sick mind they could see the hordes of zombies as worshipers or pink elephants who knows. You have more than enough to deal with trying to survive another day and what you don’t need is someone completely unhinged and out of control. There is no reasoning with a “Psycho Survivor” no logic, no treatment you can give. This survivor has to be dealt with in a more permanent manner because letting them go could even be lethal. Most “Psychotics” aren’t just going to wander away and leave you alone and letting them stay is not an option in your “hideout.” You could sooner control fire than you could these folks

　

3. The Catatonic Survivor - The stress and the strain of the dead rising to consume the living and losing family and friends. Has driven this person to the edge of shock and there is no real way to tell if they are every coming back. Unlike other “Mentally Strained” survivors this type poses no direct danger to you and your group. You will do what you can and have others attempt to help “The Catatonic Survivor” because you have other pressing matters to contend with. No one said fighting off the living dead would be easy and while everyone deals with stress differently. This person has shut down completely and totally. It is possible with given time and training you could treat this person. In the initial stages of the outbreak there won’t be time for this type of compassion. Maybe in the later stages after you are setup and barricaded in but there is a problem here. That is your more likely to see a “Catatonic Survivor Type” during the chaotic events of the initial outbreak. Meanwhile you’re wasting time and valuable supplies trying to get this person to come around. Here is maybe your first moral test of the Zombie Apocalypse. Do you leave this person and shed the anchor or do you do the right thing and help them. Which puts you and your fellow survivors at risk? With this survivor type let your conscious be your guide. Because leaving your humanity behind is exactly what the zombies have done.

　

4. The Going Out With A Bang Survivor - This survivor type is almost always a guy as well. For some odd reason realizing the end is near. This survivor only wants to party, have sex and get loaded. This guy is very dangerous any female with in arms reach is at risk hell in some cases any guy too! The danger with this survivor type is that they aren’t interested in fortifying the bunker or stockpiling supplies just partying. Most importantly he is usually loud ad as hell. This during the Zombie Apocalypse is most times a fatal and avoidable mistake. They have no desire to do anything constructive nor do they give a shit about you trying to survive. The will exhibit self destructive behaviors towards themselves and others. While you might not want to die their actions will always put you in a position where you’re worse off than you were. This survivor type has to go! If they want to meet the “Grim Reaper” so bad help them arrange the meeting. Before they schedule a group meeting with “Death” but not theirs yours and your groups meeting that is.

　

5. The Accidental Survivor - In the "Accidental Survivors" life things have always lent themselves to chance. Everyone knows someone who's "accidentally" lucky or unlucky. Instead of being born with a “Silver Spoon” in their mouths they were born with a “Horseshoe up their ass.” Somehow this person was in a bunker or surrounded by police or sleeping through the whole thing. They say that “chance favors the prepared” but in their case it favors “the inept.” Finally when they come to terms they’ve lucked up on your little well stocked, fortified hideout. This “survivor type” is nice to have around because sometimes this dumb luck comes in handy and they are usually likeable enough folks. You’ll need competent willing hands to help and everyone can’t be leader. Keep this “Survivor Type” around for sure. Just keep them away from anything dangerous. Because as Magneto said “In chess the pawns go first.”

So Long and Thanks For All Th Brains

Amazon

Heres a great Anthology that's full of zombies and great authors me included!

We've dropped the price!

Twas the night before Christmas in The Luckett Compound

Twas the night before Christmas and all through The Luckett Compound not a creature was stirring nor to be found. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care when Jorge and Jaden heard a noise and came down to see who was there. "It must be Santa Clause that jolly old elf" said Jorge "hurry up Jaden let's and go see for ourself!" The kids came down with a leap and a jump down to the livingroom where they heard a great bump. They spun around in shock and awe both  overwhelmed and amazed at what they saw. All around smashing in windows and crashing in the front door zombies, zombies and zombies galore. The Luckett children stood in silence with chills afraid to move a muscle they huddled perfectly still. They both secretly wished they'd stayed in bed but now they were trapped and facing the undead. With bodies broken and torn asunder how these vile zombies could move was more than a wonder. From the top of the stairs came dad, mom and Kyle with all types of racket and clatter. Called dad "What's going on down here and you two had better not scatter!" Jaden chimed in "we're being attacked by Zombies that's whats the matter!" The Lucketts came together in the center of the room backing down to an empty fireplace fearing their doom. Zombies to the left and zombies to the right spoke Kyle "I cant believe we're being attacked by zombies on Christmas night!" Lorraine looked longingly at her husband her mate he must know something to save the family this fate. "Honey!" She cried "before it's to late you must know something we can not wait! You're a zombie expert your knowledge on this subject is abundant like wealth!" He looked to his wife "baby I'm so scared I'm about to shit on myself!" From above on the rooftop came a bang that made them all stop. There was movement on the roof from somewhere up top . Down the chimney came a red sack bursting at the seems filled with loot. Then came two legs and two feet each covered with a big black boot. The Lucketts smiled with glee then a pause it was their favorite Compound member none other than Santa Clause! "Merry Christmas Lucketts I've returned like a prodigal son!" Santa knelt down before the children "are you ready to have fun?" Then from his jolly red sack he produced a shotgun. "I've come here with cheer and presents to give stand behind me if you want to live!" The Lucketts stood there with looks of utter shock as Santa Clause stood and gave his shotgun a cock. On his rosey red face was a wiry grin it was time to the shooting begin. St. Nick knew the trick was to be oh so quick when sending the living dead dack to hell his belly shook with each powerful shell. With each massive golved mit he continued squeezing the trigger as fast as he could pull it. It was so clear even from the start as Santa blew zombie after zombie apart. That he was oh so skilled at delivering good will and knocking zombies down for the kill. Santa was a blur who moved with a streak decapitating any corpse within his reach. Finally the room stood quiet in a hush as Santa stood slient slightly winded from his bloodlust. With not a zombie left in the Lucketts humble abode Santa Clause took this time to reload. All about the room danced gunsmoke thick arcid and white as Santa said "Im gonna kill all these motherfuckers tonight! I love to spread peace and joy to every nation but I truly dispise those undead abominations. Mr. Luckett up to the broken windows you must put boards. For I fear We've not seen the last of this zombie horde." Under tree he tossed gifts before grabbing his bag for a quick lift he disappeared up the chimney quite swift. To his sleigh for a seat with nine prancing reindeer so awesome and neat. In a flash they were off and before he disappeared from sight. He cried "Merry Christmas to all and aim for the head if you want survive the night!" Jamal Lucketts mind was clouded with mist "when I get to work tomorrow they'll never believe this shit!"
Merry Christmas From The Lucketts

Its here Dry Rot!

Amazon.com: Customer Reviews: So Long, and Thanks for All the Brains