Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Read Free

me, resulting
in the near destruction of the rental car I was driving.
    The men
got out and promptly began arguing. I decided then that I would stay put and
offer no assistance, nor would I allow them to take shelter inside my house.
They did not appear rational, and judging from the bottle the driver was
holding, along with their tendency to sway back and forth, they were somewhat
intoxicated. Definitely not the brightest individuals.
    They did
react when my neighbor, along with the other zombies in the immediate area,
started closing on them. They began blasting away, hollering, whooping,
yelling, and acting like fools who were having the time of their life. And they
were lousy shots. It might have been the alcohol or a lack of talent. Either
way, most of the rounds they fired missed, and those that hit tended to be in
the torso which did little good. This trio was the polar opposite of what
zombie hunters should be.
    I
believe they fired off a hundred bullets within a minute or two and failed to
slay a single zombie, excluding the woman they ran over. Embarrassing. Then
one, the driver I think, had his rifle jam. He began cursing as he fiddled with
it, and a buddy even stopped shooting to help him out. More foolishness. A
zombie approached, undetected, from their rear. Its arms reached out, and,
grabbing the man, it bit deep into the flesh where the neck and shoulder met.
As you all know, or should know by this point, zombies generally target the
nearest piece of exposed skin, meaning a lot of bites are on the arms, face,
and neck.
    He
screamed loudly enough that I was able to hear it from where I watched. Then he
collapsed. The companion who had been helping him with the rifle swung it up
and slammed the weapon into the zombie’s face. This knocked the monster back a
few feet. Meanwhile, the third man had turned to see what was happening. He
spent too long watching his friends though, and the zombies reached him. With
their little shambling steps, they moved slightly faster than a normal person
walked. That seems slow, and it is, but even at such a pace it doesn’t take
long to cross a few dozen yards. By the time this fellow realized his extreme
danger, he was encircled. He got it in the neck as well.
    The last
of this less than heroic trio attempted to flee, leaving his friends to fend
for themselves. He didn’t get far. Drinking and running isn’t any easier than
drinking and driving. He tripped on the curb, landed in someone’s front yard,
and was swarmed.
    I
noticed an interesting thing, something I had not expected. The zombies, unlike
those in popular fiction, did not gorge themselves on the flesh of the living.
Instead, each took one or two substantial bites before wandering off, chewing
thoroughly before swallowing. They appeared sated and had no further interest
in the people around them.
    Two of
the idiots survived this initial feeding. They were lying on the ground crying
and begging, barely able to move due to their injuries, but no one came out to
help. I don’t know if anyone, other than myself, even heard them. It was
somewhat creepy. Then their friend, having bled out, rose once more. He spotted
the men and immediately shambled over to feed. I could see no sign of
recognition in his gray filmed eyes, and he never hesitated before biting.
    The
other zombies eventually grew hungry once more and returned. I paid even closer
attention to this development and used the clock function on my iPhone to do a
bit of timing. My conclusion was that after feeding, the zombies became
nonviolent for twenty minutes, give or take a few. The time frame was not
uniform. Additionally, when the second zombie hunter died, he reanimated seven
minutes later. That matched the news reports regarding the initial outbreak.
    One of
the crew had the further misfortune to not die right away. He lingered on until
sometime after dark, having survived two rounds of feeding, possibly more.
Unable to see what was happening, I went