What A Real Zombie Apocalypse Would Be Like (Part 3)

So, just to recap on the previous events of our zombie apocalypse adventure, we (the entire group) have just arrived at St. Hubert's, and half of the group is venturing upstairs to get all the food in the kitchens, while the other half secures our shelter. Both endeavors are eventful, and so I'll describe both. I'll start first with those that are to collect food. Now, if you've ever been to St. Hubert's you'll know that the kitchens are upstairs, and so this trip for food is going to be all but easy. The group of us, about fifteen, quietly begin to ascend the stairs. Those that are handling our few weapons are in front. When we reach the top of the stairs, we look cautiously around before continuing to the kitchen. We go in through the gym, and eventually reach the kitchen. When we push open the door, however, we see one of the church custodians, in zombie form, of course, prowling in one of the fridges. As we enter, he turns, and upon seeing us his face contorts into a twisted, wild rage. With inhuman ability, he leaps toward us and pounces on Reid, who is in the front. Fortunately, he jumps right into Reid's outstretched arm, which wields a knife, and the custodian falls limply to the floor. Reid, who is now sweating and shaking, turns to look at us, and a few in the group rush to comfort him (Reid may seem like a big strong football dude, but killing a zombie is no easy feat, so cut him some slack.) When we have checked out the rest of the kitchen to make sure there are no other zombies hiding about, we hurry to collect all of the food and water in the kitchen, and put it all the in the empty (clean) garbage bins that are located to the right of the door. A couple kids, who are obviously thinking, point out that we should probably also grab the knives stored in a drawer next to the fridge, as well as anything else that might be useful. We end up with, in addition to the food and knives, three lighters, two buckets, twelve packages of dish soap and four packages of hand soap, two pairs of rubber gloves, two boxes of latex gloves, six towels, a box of hairnets, two rolling pins, and a ladle. Unfortunately, the only food that remains for the summer is canned or boxed, besides two boxes of donuts leftover from the previous Sunday mass. Once we are sure that we've collected everything of value, we begin the task of getting the large garbage bins (on wheels) down the stairs.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the other half of the group (actually, it's more like the majority) is busy finding a place for the 48 of us to stay. They walk through the school portion of the building, attempting to find a suitable classroom (in this case, a suitable classroom would retain the following characteristics: large, relatively spacious, windowless, and with some sort of potential for all of us to sleep more or less comfortably). Eventually, they come across the room that is inevitably the band room, as there are a smattering of music stands lying around, as well as a large tuba case and a piano. Other than the previously mentioned items, the room is empty. The next task at hand is, of course, securing the room in case any vicious zombies do decide to come to call. It isn't too hard to find paper, and the small window on the door is soon covered. Unfortunately, no one has the key to the lock, so that particular amenity won't do us any good. The group decides to move the piano next to the door in the hope that if need be, they can easily move the piano in front of it to block any unwanted visitors. Finally, the room must be soundproofed. Everyone wanders around the school looking for as much paper as they can find. When they have provided a very large stack, they crumple it all up and stuff it around the corners of the room, tape it to the walls, and cover every surface possible with it. Just as this task is finished, the second group (our group) arrives with the food. We designate an area where the food will be kept, and then set off in search of blankets and pillows. Most of these are found in the kindergarten classrooms. At long last, the room is ready, and gradually the people sit down. There is nothing to do now but wait.

Now, we all know that people, especially a lot of people, don't do well together when enclosed in a small space for a long time, and our group is no exception. It isn't long before people become irritable. The air conditioning in the church is not on, and, being June, it is quite hot. Any attempts to make conversation end in snappy retorts and dirty looks, so the room is also pretty quiet. As we explored the school, a few of us brought books along, and those who didn't brought markers. We busy ourselves reading, coloring on the walls, or staring at them. Although there are no windows in the room, we can tell when night falls. Everything becomes more still, and the air cools slightly, something we are all thankful for. Suddenly Nick E stands up and breaks the silence, announcing that he's hungry. He make his way over to the food and helps himself. This, of course, causes a panic. Gabe is the first to say something.
"You can't just stuff your face Nick. There's not that much food and a ton of us."  Luckily, Nick sees the logic in this and slows down, replacing the dried Ramen that he had grabbed. Thomas takes charge. "Okay. Let's sort out the food, and then figure out how much each of us get on each day." He appoints Jacques, Callie, and Andrew to do it, and the rest of us gather to watch. When they finish, this is what they have: 14.5 packages of Ramen (the other half being eaten by Nick), seven cans of green beans, four cans of tomato concentrate, forty-five individual containers of cereal, sixty boxes of Poptarts, twelve cans of baked beans, five bags of hotdog buns, one bag of rice, thirty cans of chicken noodle soup, four boxes of raw spaghetti, and seventy bags of Baked Lays. The random kid that Dan hangs out with, who it turns out is really smart, quickly calculates that if we divide the food up evenly between all of us, it's only going to last us five more days. This, of course, is a dilemma, but the group of us is too hungry to try to think about it now, so we divide up the food and dig in to our day's portion. Then, we eventually form our little huddles again and, after long debates on our future that last far into the night, drift, one by one, off to sleep.

The next three days are spent sleeping, eating, and, of course, arguing. None of us can figure out where to find food, where to go, or how to get there. Of course the suggestion pops up more than once that we just leave the area, as the zombies must be contained into some general zone, however large. Unfortunately, there is only enough gas in our bus to get us forty or so miles away, and the zombies are sure to have spread that far by now, so any hope of escaping the infected area is crushed (we can't get gas, of course, because as all the gas station attendants have become zombies, the gas pumps are no longer running.)(Also, although the zombies have spread, the areas surrounding Chanhassen have obviously been evacuated, so the original zombies have wandered but few other people have actually been infected.) By the fourth day, we are running out of options, and also out of food, and we need to make a decision as soon as possible, because we will need some of our food to take with us wherever we go in case there is no food immediately on hand.

Now, I want to take a short time to tell you why this group of teenagers is having such a hard time coming to an agreement, when there are two perfectly able teachers present. The answer is that something seems to have snapped in both the french and the german teacher, and as of now they are both completely useless. The french teacher, who hasn't spoken a word since the zombie attack, spends the time staring at the floor, wall, or ceiling. She appears to be in shock, and thinking intently about something. The german teacher, however, hasn't shut up since the attack, and mutters incessantly to herself in a combination of English, German, Spanish, and gibberish.

Just as the arguing in the room is coming to a dangerously high level, potentially high enough for any zombies lurking nearby to hear, the french teacher stands up and enters the circle. We immediately quiet as she begins to speak softly in French:
"J'ai toujours peur que cela se produise, mais je n'ai jamais vraiment pensé que ce serait une réalité. J'ai un endroit où nous pouvons aller. Il est complètement rempli de tout ce que nous aurons besoin, de nourriture et un abri aux armes à feu et des munitions. Nous pouvons aller à ma ferme. Il est de trente-cinq miles d'ici, et nous allons utiliser la quasi-totalité de notre gaz avant de l'atteindre, mais c'est un risque que nous devons suivre si nous voulons survivre."
Fortunately, Matt, being quite good at French, can understand almost all of this, and he quickly asks, "But why would you think that this would happen? And why is your farm stocked with the supplies necessary for a zombie apocalypse, anyway?"
The french teacher replies, still in her eerily quiet voice, "Mon mari était un homme bon. Il était drôle, gentil et intelligent. Son métier était la chimie. Nous avons toujours eu un bon moment ensemble, lui et moi. Mais un jour ... Je ne suis pas sûr ce qui s'est passé. Il est devenu fou. Mousse sortit de sa bouche, il ne parlait pas, ses yeux étaient ... méchant. Il a sauté sur moi, a essayé de me mordre! Je l'ai poussé hors de moi, mais il a sauté à nouveau, les dents découvertes, les bras tendus. Je ne savais pas quoi faire. J'ai couru. Il m'a chassé, ce qui rend étrange, bruits d'animaux. J'ai couru à la cuisine, avec lui loin derrière. Tout comme il m'a saisi, je suis arrivé au couteau et se tortillait libre. Il allait s'élancer à nouveau, et j'ai tenu le couteau ... et il a sauté à droite sur elle. Je ne savais pas quoi faire. Je l'ai enterré dans la cour, a dit aux gens qu'il avait quitté le pays, et espère que personne ne poser des questions. Heureusement, ils n'ont pas. Je ne savais pas ce qui lui était arrivé, mais je me doutais que c'était quelque chose près de devenir un zombie. Je craignais que la apolcaypse zombie prédit vraiment se passerait-il, alors je préparé ma maison juste au cas où. Au fond, je ne pense pas qu'il serait vraiment. Je viens d'être en état de choc ... Mais maintenant, nous devons agir. Nous devons aller à ma ferme, où nous serons en sécurité."
Once Matt had translated this for the kids who didn't understand it, we stood in shock. I mean, we'd always known this lady was weird, but until now, we'd had no idea just how weird. Luckily, her weirdness finally came in handy. We agreed to venture to her farm tomorrow, stopping first at all the local grocery stores in hopes that there would be few zombies present and maybe some food left. We ended the day in good spirits, with new hope of survival brimming in our hearts.

Just as the last of us are drifting to sleep, we hear a low moaning outside the room. Those of us who are awake freeze, our hearts still, listening hard. The lights are completely off and it is impossible to see, so we have only our ears to rely on. A moment later, there is a thud, coupled with another moan. If this is in fact a zombie, it's definitely a clumsy one. (Just so you know, there is a small bathroom located inside the band room, so there is no reason for any of us to leave the room, and therefore we haven't in the four days that we've been here. Yes, it's started to smell a little, as no one has showered, but with the door cracked slightly during the day it is bearable and also slightly breezy.) As a third moan is heard, more people begin to wake up and those who haven't are shaken by those who have until eventually the entire room is awake, sitting up, waiting in the heavy silence. Suddenly, there is a bang on the door, so loud and so hard that everyone jumps. We all stand, and Ryan R, who is closest to the door, turns on the light and backs away quickly. The piano, which we have taken to moving in front of the door every night, has moved a considerable distance, and before anyone can hurry to move it back, there is another bang on the door, followed by two more, until the door springs open. Standing outside it, breathing heavily with a hungry, inhuman look on their faces, are four zombies. As soon as they see us they start forward, grinding their teeth horrendously. Now, forty-eight versus four may not seem like a competition at all, but keep in mind that the forty-eight of us are weak from our meager diet of a couple of Poptarts and a half a bowl of cold soup a day, not to mention half asleep and somewhat apprehensive about leaping forward to fight zombies, while the zombies are wild, cruel, manic, strong, and energized from their recent meal of what was probably human brains. All of us are wary, and although we grab our weapons, no one steps forward. The zombies, however, do. Just as Dan is attempting to inch closer to take a stab at them, he is pushed out of the way by none other than the french teacher. She is wielding one of Derek's metal pipes in one hand, which she adeptly uses to club the first zombie to death, and a kitchen knife in the other, with which she slices another's neck. The other two jump backward, forcing her to get closer and give them an advantage. As she swings at one and misses, the other barrels forward, teeth bared. She hits his teeth with the pipe, and they crack and fall out. The zombie, mouth pouring blood, grunts in anger and reaches for her neck, but the french teacher is too quick. She stabs the zombie, spins around, and hits the last zombie right in the temple just as he is about to sink his teeth into her outstretched arm. Then, breathing heavily, she drops her weapons, kicks the dead zombies aside, and sits on the nearby tuba case, apparently in shock yet again.

The rest of us are completely stunned, although also thankful that the surprises that the french teacher keeps showing us are proving to be so useful. Eventually Chad, Bryson, Dan's friend, and Andrew drag the zombie bodies out into the hall, and we close the door and move the piano back into place (although it obviously isn't doing much good). One by one, we make our way over to the french teacher to thank her for saving us with her spontaneous heroic action. All she can do is nod in return. The rest of the night passes without much sleep, and eventually all of us get up and begin packing up our few belongings, even though it is still night. By the time dawn shows its first light, we are ready to go. We file silently out of the room, a few of us pushing the garbage bins that are now considerably lighter. Luckily, we don't come across any more zombies as we cross the golden-lit parking lot to the bus. After we awkwardly load the garbage bins onto the bus, Matt starts the engine, and we begin our journey to the safety of the french teacher's farm.


What will we come across on our journey to the farm? Will we even make it there safely? Will the madness ever end? These questions and more will be answered in Part 4.