We’ll Call It “Tall Tale Thursday”.
ver at the Fortress forums, one of our players is running a free-form zombie apocalypse scenario. The following post is for that, but I’m putting it here because, Holy It Got Long, Batman! The story so far is that a strange disease broke out on the island of Papua New Guinea. The disease causes hysteria and convulsions, shortly followed by seizures, after which the victim suddenly starts shuffling around aggressively and — we’re assuming — largely mindlessly, biting people and spreading the disease. Not at all like zombies. 
We are basically playing ourselves in real life, with our own real life resources and knowledge to work with. Fortunately, I have a whole lot of that floating around. Yay. In the preceeding posts, and following post, I have, by and large, stuck to the truth, although I’m not sure if the school property that I describe is technically abandoned. It might as well be, as I never see anyone there.
As it stands, the disease is spreading, possibly already in the States, although our government claims it is not. My friends and I are planning to escape to a better location. For reference purposes: The disease is being called Sudden Onset Convulsive Disorder (SOCD), and the people who have it have been dubbed Soccies, already. (Pronounced, I’m assuming, “Sockies”.) Hence, you’ve been “socced” if you get bitten, and the “sock guys” that Felonius refers to in the story. Also, Art, my husband, plays as “Avatorous” at the forums, shortened to Ava, most of the time. So, the “Ava” in the story is Art, my husband. We are currently watching some of the first pictures in the news of the “zombies”, in Australia.
Thursday night is gaming night at Casa Del Java. We don’t get much gaming done. Instead, we’re all clustered around the TV, watching the news, bug-eyed. “Is that . . . did that infected dude just bite somebody?” I ask.
”Look how they move.” VC says, pale.
”This shit ain’t cool.” Says Felonius.
”I don’t know what you are all worried about. It’s not even in the States yet, and the CDC will keep it under control.” Adamczykon snorts.
We turn a slow, skeptical, gaze on Adam. He’s our trusting traditionalist. “What?” He says. “I watched this on the news last night. Condi Rice was on Fox, saying there were no cases in the US.”
An awkward silence ensues. None of us want to come right out and tell Adam he’s being niave, because that would only start an argument, but none of us agree with him, either. “Guys, I’m really worried about this.” I say, after the moment passes.
”Well,” Felonius begins, thoughtful. Felonius is the pragmatist. “You have a disease that’s spreading like wildfire, apparently through person-to-person contact. The disease causes uncontrolled aggression, stilted movement, and — ” he squints at the screen, “Looks like impaired thinking. I mean, those socks guys don’t look very bright, you know?”
”Yeah,” says Squatch, who has been quiet until now.
”That, my friends, is a zombie apocalypse.” Felonius finishes.
Silence ensues again. No one wants to agree with him, but I suspect that we all do.
”Seriously. For all intents and purposes, those are zombie hordes.” Felonius takes his glasses off, inspecting the lenses critically. He polishes them on his shirt. “It might be some disease. It’s not the living dead, right? But still.”
”We’re screwed.” VC sighs.
”Oh, no, not at all.” Felonius puts his glasses back on and adjourns to the dinner table. We follow him, taking seats, Adam doing so with some scorn and eye rolling, as though he can’t believe we’re all being so silly. Felonius pulls out his notebook and a pencil. “In fact, I suspect we have a better chance than most people. First, ” He draws a big “1″ on a fresh sheet of notepaper and circles it. “We’re gamers. We’ve been planning for and dealing with survival scenarios for fifteen or twenty years, in some cases, and winning them more often than not. I mean, this is just zombies. It’s not like they’re cyberzombies or slamhounds or Tzimisce vozhd or anything. It’s just zombies.” Felonius writes “gamers” next to his “1″ and underlines it.
VC nods. “Yeah, I’d rather deal with zombies than Cthulhu.”
”True dat.” Squatch agrees.
”I can’t believe you people.” Adam snorts.
We glance at him, again. “Well,” I say, slowly. “We’ve already started making plans. Here’s my idea. Up next to my folks’ house, there’s an old school that’s been converted into a junk yard. The school’s still there. It’s big and build out of concrete blocks, very sturdy. It has windows, but they start farther up off the ground than I am tall. Maybe seven or eight feet off the ground. It’s on well water and septic, so we might even have working plumbing. Hell, we might even be able to get the electric working, for as long as the grid stays up. Ava knows wiring, and so does my dad. It’s heated on a boiler system, though, and I don’t know anything about that, so I don’t know what we’d do for heat through the winter, other than fires. Here, let me draw it.” I take Felonius’ note book, and begin sketching. “The red is the doors. The darker yellow is where the building is inset, with a couple of steps going up to the doors. That darker green is where steps go down to the outside basement entrance. The black is the fencing around the place. That red ‘X’ there is where there’s a big, swing-in metal gate into the driveway. It’s the only real opening, although my Dad can get in through some loose boards on the south – bottom – side.” I glance around the table. “Obviously, we’d have to fix that crap after we were in.”
(Click images to enlarge.)
Everyone studied my little sketches. “That’s not bad.” Felonius said, musingly.
“The best part,” I continue, “Is that it’s now a junkyard. It’s full of house trailers, cars, and scrap metal. And, there’s a bulldozer, which I’m pretty sure still works. Dad goes over there to play with it sometimes. The property is all abandoned. So, my thought is, we get in, and move scrap and trailers around the perimeter, reinforce it with dirt underneath, and get a big, fat embankment. I mean, if we did it right, it would practically be impregnable.”
“Yeah.” Squatch scratched his goatee, thinking. “Yeah, that could actually work.”
VC squinted at the sketches. “What about, like, food? I mean, Melissa and her friends are all already stocking up, and I know you are too, but how long are we going to be in this thing? What will we do when the food runs out?” He glances around the table, somewhat sheepishly. “We’ve been getting ready, already.”
“Well, there’s forest right behind the school. So there could be game. Well, there is game, I mean, if we can shoot it. Deer, rabbit, all that. Birds too. And, there’s a lot of property that the school sits on. We could plant things. In the spring. If things are still bad, you know, and we have to.”
They all look at me. “You’re, um, really putting a lot of thought into this thing.” Felonius noted.
“Shouldn’t I be?” I asked. I throw my hands out to indicate the world in general. “I mean, you said it. Zombie apocalypse. How’s that saying go? ‘Hope for the best, plan for the worst’?”
Adam stands up, frowning. “Well, if we’re not going to game, I’m going home.”
“You sure you don’t want in on this, Adam?” I ask. “I mean, this disease could get here. This could get serious. We’re talking pandemic, here. If it bothers you to think zombies, then by all means, don’t. Think pandemic. But, you know, this crap is serious.”
“You guys are scaring yourselves. This is the United States of America, for God’s sake. We’re not going to have a pandemic of zombies running around in the US. That’s stupid.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself. Call me if you change your mind, Steve.” I grin and wink at him. “I mean, I kind of like you. I hate to think of you as zombie chow.” The group laughs a bit, breaking some tension. Adam rolls his eyes.
“I’ll see you next week, then.” He heads for the door.
“I sure hope so.” I say quietly, as we turn back to our planning. “I sure as hell hope so.”
Um, yes. I certainly do know a lot about the inside layout of the school. And, um. It definitely is not because I broke into once as a child, Mom. No, seriously. The door totally did not come open, and I totally did not spend most of a summer sneaking around inside there, playing. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
(Original art, original fiction, copyright 10-25-07, JavaElemental. Omigawd, no stealing!)
October 25th, 2007 at 4:08 pm
Good story, in proper old role-play fashion. (Damn, I miss gaming) When (if) it’s time to go let me know who goes with you.
JavaElemental Reply:
October 26th, 2007 at 11:39 am
I’m hoping for a party of around twenty. That seems like a good number to start with. Large enough to defend and fight, but not so large as to be cumbersome. I’m counting on gamers and gamers’ friends and family.
By the way — I’m running your zombie scenario for our Thursday night gaming session.
I’ll let you know how it goes!
October 25th, 2007 at 6:44 pm
LOl..lol… Dad says it sounds like a little BS injected into the story..but then that is what makes it a story! And I knew you were in there you little stinker! I’m glad we live like right next to it tho so we can join you
Love ya lots!
JavaElemental Reply:
October 26th, 2007 at 11:41 am
Only a little BS.
I mean, the property mostly is fenced, and there are trailers and cars and crap there, and I did once see a bulldozer-thing there. 
October 26th, 2007 at 12:01 am
Lacking the opportunity to grab seed grain or potatos or other farm-starters, stock up on goods you can trade with later. Socks and underwear, still in the plastic, weigh almost nothing and will be worth more than gold. Bust into JoAnn Fabric, take all the sewing patterns you can grab. Some cloth, too, but the patterns are, again, very lightweight and survivors will trade a lot for them after a while.
Part of that fencing could be used to make an animal pen. Round up pigs, sheep, and goats. Geese if you can get ‘em. Better than guard dogs. A pig, wounded and set loose, might distract the Sockies when you really need to.
Guns are great, but you’ve read the book. Distance weapons that don’t make noise and the skill to use them are key.
What’s the vantage of that school? Good view from the roof? Burn off the treeline if you have to, you want half a mile of visibility.
Being in Oregon has been disorienting - my Zombie plan is void now that I don’t know the area. I don’t even know where to stash a body! But the mountains are tempting - few are the zombies who can climb. Then again, a bloody lot of survivors will think the same thing, and they’re more dangerous than the zombies half the time. Dammit. I need to think.
JavaElemental Reply:
October 26th, 2007 at 11:52 am
The trade goods are an excellent idea. I’ll see if I can work that in, or get one of my party members to work that in. I’m hoping by moving north with the party, that I’m giving myself reasonably ready access to farm-starters. There’s a lot of farmland up in that area, and a dairy farm not far down the road. Someone in the area used to keep chickens, too. Pigs would be great, but all the pig farms I know of are on the other side of town from the school. We should have ready access to grains and seeds, as nearly everyone in the area has at least a large garden. If nothing else, my folks will have seeds and grains to hand. Not a ton, but it could get us started.
I’ve got a great vantage from the top of the school, and if the barricades work out the way I’m hoping, we’ll be able to walk them like castle walls and fire safely from there, as well. I’ve got clear lines of site for a fair distance on three sides of the school. The fourth side we’ll have to work on, as there are woods across the road. But that’ll probably work out, as we’ll probably need extra barricading materials, and logs will work.
MrJames Reply:
October 27th, 2007 at 12:40 am
Don’t forget firewood. Michigan gets COLD. Salvage woodstoves for maximum heat with minimum smoke. Smoke might attract the soccer moms, er, soccies.
Ever watch Junkyard Wars? They did one episode where they made siege weapons. Junkyard catapults and ballistae, and one team used suspension springs to make an honest-to-god scorpion. It fired spears eight feet long THROUGH a cinderblock wall. Even a small catapult or ballista flinger-thingy would make for great defense - take large pickle jars, fill them with gasoline and soap flakes. Attach a burning rag to the lid, and fling! Napalm, anyone? Use chainsaws to fell a lot of the surrounding trees, making tangled messes as natural barriers. Leave obvious approaches clear to funnel incoming scavengers or soccies to your kill zones. The fencing will work for animal pens or last-ditch defenses, but you’re going to need something on the order of seven or twelve acres per person, or more, particularly if none of you know farming. Think how much food you’ll need for a whole year. And if you do get a decent crop going, wheat and veggies and maybe barley, there are going to be a lot of people who’ll want it. You’ll have to be able to defend your fields, not just your base. Horses may be essential to provide guards for such a large area. Also, you’re going to want a medico of some kind.
PS - awsomely silly zombie movie - go rent Planet Terror, the Robert Rodriguez Grindhouse flick. Has the picture on the cover of the girl with a rifle attached to her leg stump. Over-the-top seventies-style gorefest, with some actual humor thrown in!