rules to live by. [trigger #58]

20 rules to live by in the event of  a zombie apocalypse:

1. Ammo runs out, find melee weapons.

2. Guns make noise, noise attracts zombies, see above rule.

3. You’re stronger together than alone.

4. Still, once someone starts to turn, they aren’t your loved one anymore. In the words of Zombieland: Double-tap.

5. Go north, frozen zombies can’t eat you.

6. Setting zombies on fire is both useful and cathartic.

7. The more layers of clothing you wear, the less likely teeth meet skin.

8. When in doubt, always be moving. Zombies are slow, you shouldn’t be. Your primary disadvantage is numbers, and the most danger is in being swarmed; your primary advantage is being far faster than the undead. Often, a fast walk will be enough to stay ahead of danger, while freezing to decide your next move only allows more zombies to converge.

9. When in danger, run like a motherfucker. As mentioned above, zombies are slow.  Fight only when absolutely necessary, flight is always the safer option.

10. As in any crisis, water is your most important commodity. A healthy human can survive for weeks without food, but even in ideal conditions, you’ll be dead within five days without water.

11. Sleep in shifts, zombies don’t sleep so someone needs to be paying attention at all times.

12. Zombies can often be tricked with smells and sounds. All zombies will be in a different state of decomp, but sight deteriorates far faster than hearing or smell. Also, cognitive filtering processes will no longer be active. Thus, zombies will follow noises and human smells even if it is completely illogical to do so, often even if it feels like they should be able to see you. You’re smarter than they are, act like it.

13. Never be the slowest person in your party.

14. The military is not trained for Z-Day. When you find the military outpost that claims to be safe and seems too good to be true, it is. Stay long enough to stock up on supplies and move on. Shit is going to hit the fan eventually and you don’t want to be there when it does.

15. Little kid zombies are just as dangerous as adult zombies. Leave sentimentality behind or become zombie chow. They aren’t human anymore, kill the fuckers.

16. Have sex whenever consensual and safely possible. Endorphins will be in short supply and sex provides them in healthy quantities. Apocalypse creates panic, sex creates peace of mind and helps one keep a level head. Also, it helps you remember what you have to live for. Forget your normal ethics and rules. It’s the end of the world, folks, you might as well enjoy the few benefits.

17. Travel light. Sentimentality is your enemy. Carry only what can directly aid your survival.

18. Your trust should be hard earned. When everyone is trying to survive, betrayal will be commonplace, choose who you decide to trust very, very carefully.

19. Play to your strengths, be wary of your weaknesses. Be brutally honest with yourself about your survival skills, both as contributions to a group and as an individual. Working out how to utilize your strengths will keep you alive, ignoring embarrassing weaknesses will get you killed.

20. Always be brainstorming strategies as a party. Creativity and ingenuity are advantages you have over the horde, use them. Zombies are nothing more than shuffling apetites, making them predictable. It should be possible to create strategies for your group to survive indefinitely with a little bit of forethought.

first and third, base hit, go two! [trigger #9]

**continuation of trigger #8**

Emily and I try to make our way toward the nearest hallway away from the field, but so many people are pressing to see what’s happening on the field that the way is completely jammed.

Idiots!

An idea suddenly strikes me that’s absolutely terrible, but might be our only option. I go with it, leading Emily down to the field. We jump onto the grass. She asks where we’re going and I tell her that if the zombies are only coming from the Sox clubhouse, then the new private player’s entrance from player parking to the Yankees clubhouse might be our best way out of danger, or at least farther from it.

We move toward the infield, and even during Z-Day the absurdity of me walking on Yankee Stadium grass isn’t lost on me. I can’t enjoy it long though, shit’s getting worse over by the Sox dugout. We reach the infield in time to see Adrian Gonzalez save Jeter’s life by beating Youkilis’ head in with a bat. Jeter arms himself by ripping third base out of the ground.

Just as I’m wondering if that will be any use I see him jam the metal post into a zombified Yankee fan’s eye. It gives new meaning to the phrase ‘base hit.’

Two more undead Yankee fans are closing in on Jeter when he uses the base to quickly dispatch each, as if he’s been fighting off zombies with bases his entire life. He brings the base post crushing down on zombie #3’s head with impressive finality. Already, his count has gone from one kill to three. Then again, Jeter always did go from first to third as well as anyone in the game.

yankees. [trigger #8]

I walk through the open concourse of the new Yankee Stadium. It’s beautiful, far more beautiful than the old, closed, dirty concourse of the stadium of old. Yet, there is still a part of me that misses the way you would emerge from the shadow of that old tunnel into the sunlight, from complete obstruction into a perfect afternoon view of the most storied ballpark in the history of the game. It took my breath away every time.

The atmosphere here in the new stadium is electric, as it always is for games against the Red Sox, even this early in the year. Word is starting to pass through the grapevine between fans that Pedroia won’t be playing in today’s game. Something about flu-like symptoms. Another fan says he saw Youkilis throwing up on the field before batting practice. It looks like this is going to be a strange game, especially if the Sox keep losing players this quickly.

This is frustrating. I hate when injury or illness tampers with the game. Don’t get me wrong, I find Youkilis and Pedroia as arrogant and irritating as the next rational person, but I can’t stand it when a team isn’t at full strength.

Emily and I make the customary rounds along the circular route of the concourse, getting every view of the field I can, basking in the spring glow of baseball goodness. With first pitch approaching, it’s time to find the way to our seats.

The start of the game is approaching in earnest now. The fielders have taken the field, Sabathia is warming up, Crawford is taking his final cuts before the umpire kicks things off. Ellsbury is in the hole, having been moved up to take Pedroia’s spot in the two slot. The game is about to begin, and all is as it should be.

Then there is a strange commotion in the Sox dugout. Crawford and Ellsbury don’t seem to notice, but everyone else on the Red Sox seem to be interrupted by some sort of commotion. That’s when I notice Pedroia stumbling his way out onto the field. Something is wrong, his gait is halted and confused. Pedroia is many things, neither of which are confused, hesitation isn’t in his nature.

Before Ellsbury notices, Pedroia is on him, he’s grabbed him from behind. Suddenly Pedroia bites Ellsbury’s neck hard enough to take off a chunk of flesh. There is commotion on the field. I grip Emily’s hand and get ready to make a move. Most people don’t seem to realize what’s going on, but being a huge nerd doesn’t come without its advantages. I know exactly what’s happening, the zombie apocalypse has begun, and we are in one of the two or three worst possible environments one can find himself in at this moment in history. The bleacher creatures are minutes away from getting a whole lot nastier. Shit is definitely about to hit the fan.

Of course Pedroia would be patient zero. Douche.

We weave our way through our row while everyone else is still craning to see what’s happening on the field. By the time we reach the end of our section, I take another look at the field to see Pedroia has moved on toward Crawford. Carl must do some movie watching in that multi-million dollar Florida condo of his, because he seems to have figured out what’s up as fast as I did. He lets Pedroia get almost within reaching distance when he uses that trademark speed of his to slip to left and around Pedroia’s back before using his bat to crush former middle infielder’s head. One zombie down. Not bad Carl Crawford, not bad at all.

For a moment, Crawford is dazed by having to kill a teammate, he doesn’t see that Ellsbury has reanimated behind him. Ellsbury is about to get his teeth into Crawford when a blistering Sabathia fastball hits Ellsbury right between the eyes, it hits him hard enough to make Ellsbury’s life as a zombie a very short one.

I need to stop watching, fans will start turning soon, if they haven’t already, and things are going to get very ugly, very quickly once that happens. We need to get the hell out of the Bronx, fast.