Hilarious, though Questionable...a Must Read for all Lost Zombies

Not too long ago, this afternoon, I was updating my blog when randomly I received an IM from LZ memeber, JOHNNY boy. This was the first time, I've interacted with this person and was pleasantly surprised as the initial communication by this person was an emoicon. "What an odd way to say 'Hello'" I thought, and replied with a traditional smiley of my own.

What followed, from this person is definitely questionable and absolutely childish to say the least.

Now I'm a "grain of salt" kind of person and verbiage doesn't bother me, so I figured rather than get offended, I'd play the sarcastic role in my reply. I'd also like to note that before I had a chance to screen-print the IM, this member opted to retract his first (and definite grounds for site banning) reply to my "thankful" sarcasm and instead reply with something less blatantly offensive and more....just creepy.

I'd like to take a brief moment and thank JOHNNY boy for voluntarily displaying his obvious lack of mental faculties and to let him know that, when he turns, we'll gladly put him down.

Be sure to read J_Silva's Blog @ Lost Zombies

Dream Log - March 25, 2012 - Always Carry A Weapon

We needed supplies.

There's plenty of water. Only enough food to last us a few more days. Nearly exhausted our medical inventory. At this point there may only be a couple guns left among us.

Just a couple miles from the edge of town and I recall a little gun store on the road along the river. It's likely been looted already, no doubt. We need everything we can get though.

I could be back before dark, easily. Fortunately we have plenty of gas to spare, for now. I'll need to take a car. Who knows how much stuff I'll have to load, or how little.

...
......

The drive was easy enough. Had to navigate around a few vehicles though. I'll have to scavenge them another time. Didn't see a single infected on the way. Maybe they've moved on? Doubtful. I shouldn't think things that will let my guard down. I'd rather see a couple here or there than none at all. That would be one or two less to make up a herd later.....which could mean life or...

There it is. "Just follow the river, it's right on the way," I remember telling myself as I was leaving. I feel somewhat relieved since I couldn't remember exactly how far it was from our camp, or even the town. And that's the last place I want to be alone.

I was surprised to see only one other car parked near the building. No sign that anyone has broken down here. Or that the shop has been forced open, I thought as I viewed the building while I parked my car. I turned off the ignition and left the keys in and the door opened, as I normally do when I'm scouting a new area. I never did feel comfortable blindly entering an unfamiliar area. Especially right then. It wasn't so much the thought of the dead, as they were at least somewhat predictable and there were certain avenues to safely dealing with the odd zombie, but rather the living. If someone's alive inside, I thought, should I try to lure them out and alert them of my presence, or quietly enter and possibly startle them? Either way, if they were hostile, I'd likely have to defend myself and clearly they'd have all the guns.

As I softly approached the brick building; bars on the windows, glass still intact; unable to clearly see inside, more and more I became certain that someone must've been alive in there. "No broken windows and nothing appears to be barricaded against them," I mumbled to myself. As I put my hand on the knob, I pressed my ear to the door, not sure what I was hoping to hear. Faint...mumbling? No. Whirling. I couldn't be sure and I wouldn't assume. KNOCK! Once and fast, to stir up anyone who may be inside. Silence, I thought. I exhaled but grew confused. "That car?" I whispered. It must belong to someone. I continued to listen, my ear against the door as I began to turn the knob. I was still anticipating someone to speak out from within, or maybe hear feet quickly shuffling.

By now the door was cracked open. Not enough to peak inside but enough to alert anyone who may be on the other side of it and yet, still nothing. Quickly and quietly, I swung the door open and stepped inside thinking, Either they're waiting for me or no one's in there. In any case, I won't have to worry much longer. I laughed to myself. A ceiling fan. This was a new one for me. I didn't think a fan had ever caused me so much concern before. Smiling, I turned to close the door behind me and saw the abandoned vehicle parked not twenty feet away. I stopped smiling.

Guns! I thought. Inside the dim shop, it didn't look looted but definitely appeared emptied. Only dust remained and the shelves on which it gathered. Whatever was here, has been gone for a while. For a brief moment I became frustrated. Not for the lack of supplies we needed, but for the effort to end up empty handed. I reached above to pull the draw string of the fan and light the room better. My frustration quickly gave way to curiosity. An archway? The shelf which made up the back wall was actually a divider, making the shop into two smaller rooms. I walked closer, peering through the shelf backing to get a better view of the other room. It's too hard to see, I thought, but fortunately no one was there.I turned the corner into the back room to see yet again, nothing. Everything had already been taken. As I brushed my hand across a nearby shelf, I saw a switch mounted to the wall just above me. Indifferently, I reached to flip it. Nothing happened. A short scoff came from my mouth as I decided to head back to camp. I suppose I'll look through a few of the cars I passed on my way here. Better to get back with something, rather than nothing. As I turned to leave the back room, I noticed a small glow of light coming from near the floor. The switch. Hurried, I knelt down towards the light. A case...below the shelves? Fortunate. I slid the panel open and was relieved that the trip wasn't for nothing. A few rifles, lay there tidily. A few forgotten firearms that were likely left in the hurry of packing the others.

Only a couple boxes of ammunition. Cleaning kit. A stack of Oregon state background-check forms. "Won't be need those, " I said, chuckling. I took stock of the guns and began to inspect their functionality, wondering if they were forgotten or purposely left behind. A couple 12-gauge, pump actions. They seem fine. A 20-gauge, with a jammed elevator. Too bad. This would've been good for my son. A mild look of pleasant surprise took my face. "Son of a bitch," I said. A Colt .45 single-action. The cylinder's gummed up pretty badly and there doesn't seem to be any rounds for it. Oh, well. Sean will like this and I'm sure it could be cleaned. Lastly, on the shelf below, a Mosin 91 and a carbine, .22LR I don't know how easy I could find rounds for this but the bolt moves freely and the trigger feels good. May as well take it. We may be able to trade it to someone.

"We're supposed to meet them right here," she said. Frantic, and stuttering she continued, "not over there b..but right here." "Are you listening?!" she asked. "Why did I even bring you along, in the first place?" she inquired. What the fuck? I thought and as I leaped to the window, unseen, I began to watch her. With tattered clothes and matted hair, she moved shakily and uneasy. She couldn't have been any older than forty but didn't by any means look young. I couldn't see who she was talking to. A child perhaps? At least that's what her tone inferred. "No...No! Would you stop talking? Stop talking!" she yelled. Who is she yelling at? I wondered. Even more importantly, what's going to happen if she doesn't quiet down? I continued to think. She turned around and began to walk the way she came before abruptly coming to a complete stop. "What's that?" she asked, quietly. "Where? O..Over there." she elaborated. She ducted down next to the abandoned car and pulled a doll from her torn, jacket pocket. "Right th..there, look." she whispered as she placed the doll against the vehicle glass. "It's an 'other'!" she frightfully said to the doll. "No, th...they aren't here yet. Do you see them?" There it is. I thought as an undead came into my view, walking beside my car. God, I hope she runs off. Walking slowly. Traipsing toward her, the dead hadn't noticed she was behind that car, shuttering to her doll. Crying to herself, sobbing, she tried to hold back her voice, "They'll be here soon. They'll be here soon." The single undead stopped, tilting his skin-torn face toward the sky. Listening. "It must've h..h..heard us!" she whined quietly.

Louder and louder she began crying while trying to hold back her tears. Choking on the air she gasped, her bodily clearly immobile. Her muscles were impotent from terror as she sprawled onto the dirty cement, clenching her doll close to her chest.

All the while the growing noise caused the slack-jawed creature to trudge closer to her. Grimly breathing, growling. It's hunger must've grown greater with each noise she made.

As the undead began to enclose on her, faster, and with each step it's moans became louder and more violent. Until...it came upon her. Silence.

With a vague and careless expression it watched her briefly, but to her forever, as she gazed right back at the undead's blank face....but only briefly.

When It All Began...

It was like a chaotic orchestra. The sound of dozens of car alarms playing out of rhythm had amplified off the hills on which I was jogging, that afternoon.

Peering through a nearby treeline, I managed a glimpse of what was an unfamiliar Grants Pass. Vehicles piled together, smoke and flame emerged violently as the community of people fled in random directions.

A clearer view, I thought, was needed to get a better understanding of what was really going on below. Turning around, I began to run towards the trail head on the hill across the road from me. I had ran this trail countless times, but never this fast and it had never felt so foreign. The half-mile trek uphill seemed like a eternal-instant, both endless and quick.

Reaching the mountain top, after so many frantic steps, left me ached and tired....breathing heavy. I gave pause for a moment, resting my hands on my knees as my body caught up to itself, but only for a moment. As I stood up, allowing myself to breathe deep, the cool breeze, I was taken over by unclear emotions.

Fright? Surprise?...Confusion? Yes! and no. My lack of comprehension for the sight which fell my eyes seemed less important than at what I was looking.

The crowds running away, others towards. But from what?...to what?

Squinting, my eyes grew sharper. People, I thought terrifyingly, they're eating...people!

Get More From Parkour

My experience has lead me to believe that it's better to run for longer periods rather than at faster speeds, when evading the undead...this is both correct and false. While I will concede that bursts of speed can get you out of a jam in a hurry, it's important to say that it's a hollow feat if you end up gasping for air after only 50 yards. I still believe that "Cardio is King" but have grown to immensely appreciate the results from adding even just a small amount of speed training to my routine...

...then there's parkour.

Think of this French-created, running sport as marathon sprinting in 3D. The speed and flexibility discipline of parkour has grown into a worldwide fitness phenomenon that has tracuers and tracuesses for all ages. The group at American Parkour, is a great place to start, with lots of information to get you going and I recommend they be your first stop on your way to opening a new world of fitness.

We Assume Zombie's Can Run, So Why Can't You?

Over the last decade or so, the concept of zombie's who are capable of running has brought a whole new level of anxiety and fear to an already stressful scenario. In fact, we as a zombie-aware culture have accepted this change and begun to plan for it accordingly. But if "Rule #1 is Cardio" then we as a group must feel that rules are meant to be broken, though clearly this shouldn't be the case.

I've read many blogs regarding running and though everyone has an opinion or preference on the topic, it seems one fact is consistent. "Any training is better than none." So whether your goals are based on a 100m sprint or a 10k endurance run, just getting yourself moving will begin to lead you down the road to better health and ultimately greater chance for survival.

Whatever you decide your goals should be, be sure to keep one thing in mind, "Train Hard & Consistently."