OtE Chapter 4: Casually Psychopathic

Well that was a total waste of time! Shit, now I know why knights had squires and horses…

I normally travel ‘lightly’ when I go out to explore and scavenge. Let’s put aside the fact that it took me like ten minutes to put on my armor, which would have been lethal if I had to fight right away. I was worried about the house burning down, so I panicked and tried to leave ahead of schedule. The result was that I could barely make it across the street.

Between my own weight, the armor, my glaive, shield, combat shotgun, assault rifle, a few pistols, some big knives, the ammo, food, iced tea, water, condiments, vitamins, clothing and everything else I was trying to carry… It must have been at least five-hundred pounds. Granted, the clothes and some other stuff were in a suitcase that I was pulling, but you get the point. It’s too damn heavy.

If this was a video game, I could just shove everything into some kinda magic space or I would have superpowers to abuse. I’ve seen people pull planes with their testiles and play tug of war with their nipples, so I don’t think it’s impossible for me to carry this stuff if I really needed. It’s just that I don’t want to put myself through that. My ‘loot’ isn’t worth more than my life.

I know for a fact that there are plenty of cars, dirt bikes and motorcycles that can still function even while being bombarded by EMPs. The problem is that I don’t have the internet or any way of telling which is which. Hell, I barely even know how to drive a car, much less a motorcycle.

What I really need is some kind of wagon or cart that I can pull. What if I meet a zombie horde and have to abandon it? Pft~, this isn’t some TV drama where the director and writers need to randomly throw in plot-points that have no other purpose than to gimp the main characters. In the worst case scenario, I could leave it, then come back when the horde leaves. Either that or fight my way through.

You know, back when this all started, I was like “Holy shit! This is going to be awesome!” I was super prepared and everything…

Maybe I was ‘too’ prepared? I put on my armor, sharpened the edges of my glaive and kite shield, then went out into the street! There was a cool breeze blowing past, carrying the stench of death on the air. I was really anxious and a little afraid. There were people screaming and yelling all over the damn place. Gunshots constantly rang out, like the fourth of July. I mean, Independence Day never really happened this year, so there were loads of fireworks too. People were using them as improvised explosives or to attract and distract the zombie hordes.

I was pretty excited, so I forgot to bring a backpack or any way to carry things. All I had was my shield and polearm. After about three minutes, I felt like I was dehydrated and could barely move anymore. Yep, I couldn’t even sit down anywhere. I just stood there on the sidewalk, staring down at the chaos in Patterson Park.

There was a hill, which wouldn’t be a big deal for normal people, but for me… There’s no way I would have been able to walk down there without falling and hurting myself. Meanwhile, the zombies had to struggle and claw their way upwards towards me.

*Poke* and it’s dead! *Slash* there goes a head! *Smack* I saw some guy smoking crack. *Bam* a little girl was eaten like a slice of ham.

Yeah, I don’t fucking know. A lot was going on at the same time. There were even two groups of survivors shooting at each other on the soccer field, while a bunch of nude cadaver looking bastards were swarming them.

Did I mention that most of the zombies were naked in the beginning? The people who were the first to die and become undead, had originally been kept in morgues or simply kept in big freezers. So when all hell broke loose, they were shambling around with their tits and dicks hanging out. I guess that’s still better than the ones with their guts dangling about or the ones who died in the sewers…

Anyway, there I was, exhausted and feeling like I’m gonna die from heatstroke inside of that armor. This was before I found this nifty silver motorcycle helmet by the way. Back then I was wearing a legitimate steel full-helm and could barely even turn my head. Hence why I didn’t notice the horde that was slowly approaching from Eastern Avenue, which was to my left.

Of course, once they were close enough, I could hear them. Plus, I had a badass kiteshield with sharpened edges. I just flung my left arm out and beheaded an old lady, before delivering a slash with my glaive, slicing open the faces of several more moaning idiots.

They just stared at me with their cold, dead eyes, collapsing onto the sidewalk. When I say dead, I don’t mean whitened and glazed over like in a lot of shows. Like I mentioned before, the undead resemble who they originally were. If it’s some ancient dude with cataracts, then yeah, he’ll look like the stereotypical zombie. On the other hand, if they were a seven year old girl with brown irises and an adorable smile, it’s hard to tell if she’s just coming over to hug you or rip your throat out… Until she moans, groans or vomits out embalming fluid in your general direction. That’s when I usually decide to stab them in the face.

Well, the moral of the story is that even if a horde of zombies attacks, it’s easier to stand and fight. Especially when you’re wearing a hundred pounds of steel armor. I won’t pretend like I didn’t feel like I was going to suffocate and die afterwards, but I survived. Everyone else in the park died, while I just overexerted myself a bit.

Another word of advice though. Don’t aim for the head if you have a bladed weapon. The skull is thick and you can dull or chip your blade. You’re better off stabbing or slashing the neck. Even if they don’t die right away, there isn’t much they can do once their head is cut off or their throat is slashed open. If you have a hammer or pickaxe though, go for the brainbox. Anything designed to smash through concrete, can easily destroy human bone.

The first day was pretty fun. Exhausting, but definitely enjoyable overall. From the very start, I never even thought about zombies as people or any cliche bullshit like that. It’s different if you actually knew the person beforehand, but I was an antisocial shut-in, so I didn’t recognize anyone.

I won’t say that I’m a sociopath though, because I’m not totally sure what that word actually means without being able to look it up on the internet. Even when I saw ‘real’ people getting eaten or killing each other, I didn’t particularly ‘feel’ anything.

On my way back from the park, I came across a situation that was pretty common in Baltimore, even before the apocalypse. Three big guys covered in tattoos and wearing bloodstained t-shirts were holding guns to this girl about my height, she had a backpack, dreadlocks and was surprisingly attractive. Not saying that everyone in Baltimore is ugly, just that what’s the point in looking good after the world ends?

She looked me straight in the eyes and screamed “Fucking medieval zombie knight!” Then sprinted away, while the three men started yelling at her and trying to shoot her in the back. Their aim was horrible and she was smart enough to use the zombies as shields, as she quickly ducked into the alley.

Their gunshots covered the sound of my steps and the clanking of my armor. When one of them finally turned around, I was already close enough to stab straight through his throat and sever his spinal cord. He was only a little taller than me, but the one next to him was practically seven feet. Since I was exhausted, I actually missed with my first slash… Ironically, since he dodged, the guy to his right had half his face sliced open.

The biggest one who avoided my attack, pointed his nine-millimeter at my head and pulled the trigger. Fortunately, steel helmets are pretty awesome. It was mostly luck that he happened to hit the side, rather than my eyes. Probably anywhere in the center of the helmet wouldn’t have been able to protect me, but the bullet was deflected by a slanted part. It practically made me deaf in my left ear for a few days though.

After that, I stabbed him in the face. Then cut the other guy’s head off. Those were the first people I ever killed… And no, I didn’t give a fuck about them either. It had nothing to do with race, so don’t even try to go there. It’s the end of humanity and you’re still going to bring up politics? Back before the zombie apocalypse, I hated race-baiters. Nowadays, if someone called me a racist I’d probably just shoot them.

By the way, I have lots of guns now. The good thing about firearms is that they don’t take nearly as much energy to use as melee weapons. On the other hand, they’re loud, need ammunition and it’s kind of hard to pull the trigger with gauntlets well… On my hands.

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