Monday, January 30, 2012


I said I would cover some things in my last post, I just wasn't able to get to it. First things first. 'X'.

X is a person who contacted us outside the city limits of Bay City about a month ago. He radioed in a few times and let us know that he was willing to trade, or barter for protection, food and water. We cant let any of our local ZFC stay out there, it would just leave us too thin, but we can try and help him set up his own ZFC unit where he is.

After the zombie attack set in motion by the ASMZ, all of us are on edge. The sounds of the last killing are still fresh on my brain. Not just the zombies going down either.. it was horrible. At any rate, we agreed to do some trading with X. I sent two of our trained barters out to Matagorda County to find the bunker, X said was hard to miss, easy to find.

Two days later, I got a call in that an old airplane hanger was located. With binoculars, my team watched from a distance. They reported back saying that they saw a man sitting in a chair. Didn't seem to be moving. There wasn't any blood on his clothes, but looked as if he were propping himself up on an old rifle. They moved in.

Ironically enough, they had to pass through an open grave yard. The stones were just setting out of the ground which meant that this was an old, forgotten place to bury the less fortunate. They turned out to be  head stones from the early 1800's. Many of the dates lead them to believe that children were the biggest occupants of the holy ground. Just then... gun shot.

A shot cracked and echoed through the air. Because of the flat terrain of the Texas grasslands, the sound went on for a full 4 or 5 seconds. Almost like a thunder crack. They hit the grass and got cover behind the miniature head stones. With binoculars out, they looked. The man sat there, with out movement. None. The shot came from somewhere else... at least that's what they believed.

Tredd and Bo were their names. They were ZFC members from the beginning. That's why I sent them. They have learned how to speak the language of our new world. Even if they didn't want know? Tredd grabbed a fist sized piece of a crumbled head stone, stood up on his knees and threw the stone as hard as he could at the airplane hanger. TINK!!

The sound of the stone hitting the aluminum shell to the hanger was almost as loud as the gun shot. Planted down in the dry Texas grass again, they looked on a third time with the binocs. The sitting man was still just a sitting man. But they quickly noticed something else. ZOMBIES. The noise of the stone on the hanger walls caused the evil to awaken. They started pouring out from the inside. Tredd and Bo continued to watch. The man sitting in the chair wasn't a target of the zombies. He wasn't even a target to them either. They watched the zombies accidentally budge the sitting man, and watched the hat fall off, his arm fall to the ground and the fake gun collapse to the side. It was a mannequin used as a lure to get them closer, or a decoy? They reported being confused on the whole deal.

Just then, a young boy dressed in genes and a t-shirt reading 'Im with Stupid' crawled up between them. With the amount of zombies, most kids would have been terrified, but this kid was different. Tredd and Bo looked at him silently, then at each other. The boy continued to look through his binocs and pulled out a piece of beef jerky from his cargo shorts.

"Boys, my name is X. Pleased to meet you". Tredd and Bo honestly were speechless. The boy did a reverse army crawl back into the high grass and so they followed.

A quarter mile away, where they parked, Tredd and Bo stood next to their car conversing about where the boy had gone. It was a one lane, dirt road. Old houses and blood stained laundry hung on clothes wires that were blowing in the humid air. A car pulled up. Cadillac de Ville. Maroon. Rims. Tinted windows.

They stood there with their hands on their weapons ready for action. The window motored down with its winy pitch. It was the kid X. Driving a full sized car. "Well, are you ladies gonna get in or what?" Tredd tried the front passenger door, but it was welded shut. They both got in back. X turned around and told them "Nobody rides shot-gun, it causes too many arguments. Put on your seat belts cause around here we go by the laws of the old world." He said a mouthful in those small words. People are already giving our old way of life respect. Calling it the 'OLD WORLD' seems surrealistic.

It was a 10 minute ride until they stopped. The sun was falling and X turned from a beef jerky eating little kid to a bossy little ass. He opened the door on Bo's side. "Out of the car, don't say anything, don't do anything and for the love of Twinkies, don't touch your side arms. I'll tell you right now, you can forget about your car, its been looted by my boys. Sorry, its the cost of business....friggin' inflation." X winked at Tredd, then motioned them with his middle finger to follow them.

Tredd and Bo, being the zombie pioneers they were just smiled and poked their cheeks with twisting fingers. X sighed, "Whatever". Then he knocked on the door.

TA-TA TA TA-TA was the secret knock apparently. He repeated the knock.
TA-TA TA TA-TA. "WHATS THE SECRET PASSWORD?" A voice spoke from inside. It was another child. Pretending to use an adult voice.

"ADA CHAPPMAN BOX", X said. "Ive got the barters from the Houston ZFC." It was quiet for a second or two. Then they heard what sounded like hundreds.. if not more shotguns cocking all at once.

Then the same theatrical voice. "COME IN".

When they walked in, they noticed a smokey room with 40 or more kids staring at them. Some had dirty faces, some were playing cards in the back. Some were looking at a large map on a board, some were playing pool with Nerf balls under a Budweiser light. But every one of those kids, had a weapon pointed at them.

X closed and locked the door behind them, gave the kid with the pretend voice a butterfly handshake and then said out loud, "DEATH CANNOT KILL!" "THAT WHICH NEVER DIES!!" Cried out his team, which were now smiling and clinging bottles of Shasta and water together. "Follow me hot rods" X said. He led the way through a room and down a hallway. There were pictures of families and other children on the walls. They passed the kitchen where they saw boy and girl children cooking. They passed a room that had 3 walls torn out, with an indoor garden set up. Little hand drawn pictures of corn, carrots and other veggies were stapled to sticks that were stabbed in the ground. Another room had a chalkboard in place where a 10 year old girl was teaching Spanish to some older kids. This place was a working machine. X and his team had created a world, protected from the outside nightmare.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall. X turned around and said, "Look, I have heard of Eddie Rotten and what he has going on in Houston. I respect that. I know about Captain LC and the GYPSY GROUP out of College Station. I even know about Lord Micah. I read the blog, and that is why your here. But I swear, if anything goes wrong, if any of my kids are harmed in any way, I will make sure that your cute little Houston ZFC burns as hard as Captain LC's compound did in College Station. DO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER?" X was a young little dude, but they noticed the bloody knuckles he had wrapped around his gun. He had been through it all.

My boys nodded their heads. X said, "GOOD, lets barter."

X opened the door to a closet. Hanging were adult clothes. A shelf on top where shoes and hats were placed in perfect condition. A roach crawled out and was stepped on by Bo. He hates roaches. "Not a word guys, ever... OK?" X said with a high brow.

He reached in and pulled a lever, opening up the floor to a set of dark stairs that led downward. "After you" Tredd said with his palm turned up. They followed each other down toward a light coming from a room. Another door with another lock awaited them at the bottom of the stairs. After a quick code, the door opened with a loud air tight seal suck that pierced their ears. "THIS, IS OUR COMMAND CENTER." X said.

Shelves of canned food, fresh vegetables, fruits of all sorts, and coolers. Coolers full of water and Shasta. In the back was a room filled with solar generators, computers, night security systems, and docks with two way radio's charging. And on the right, were panel after panel of guns and ammo. There were guns much heavier than some of the kids they left upstairs. These kids were set for Armageddon. But how?

"My dad was a member of a Special Forces Unit before the government turned on us. My mom was a teacher at the high school just up the street. She got out just in time. The ASMZ came from the big city and took out our communication towers first, then started unloading bus after bus of zombies. My dad knew something was wrong. He started building our bomb shelter in January of 2010. He said the media was covering Obama, and the hype of his presidency lasted so long the One World Government was able to buy us out and install another government in Americas place. The ASMZ isn't the government, they just do the dirty work." X went on but it was obvious he was nervous but happy to see an adult face. Especially a friendly adult face. My guys said he didn't ever say his parents were killed, just that he referred to them in past tense.

With glassy eyes, X said "So, lets talk trade".

My guys were dropped off. They have an open trade agreement with X allowing us to keep our people supplied with fire arms and his people supplied with food, water and medical supplies. Its pretty hard to get asthma inhalers when you live in the country, infested with zombies.

X had to know Tredd and Bo weren't going to be a threat so he set us up to find the biggest thing in Markham to find. The old airplane hanger was just the spot. The dummy sitting on the chair was indeed a decoy. X needed to know we weren't going to go in and kill him, and take all his goods. I'm glad we both have honest people working for us. A big part of me wants to send some adults down to help supervise X's crew, but he specifically forbade it. And from the stories Tredd and Bo returned with, we here could learn a bit from them out there in Green Acres.

I'm tired. Its time for bed. I'll fill you in on my meeting with the dude who came out here from JIG's ZFC in the UK..... I'm just so exhausted. Just a teaser though. JIG, before or after he turned to a bad guy, or brainwashed or cloned himself or whatever... he's got some bad ass zombie fighters working with him over in the UK. Tough as nails people with a take all or nothing attitude. I'll tell you about it soon enough though.

Thanks for hanging out with me on these cold nights where ever you are. Zombies... Crazy right?



1 comment:

  1. Very well written, thanks so much for the details in trade Agreements!!