Zombies Stay Out: You Can’t Be In Our Club

The second I heard the distress call on my radio, I knew one of two things—it was either some kind of elaborate trap, or I was in for one crazy undead battle.  I was kind of hoping for the latter.  Since my last skirmish at the billiard hall a couple of weeks ago, I have been “dying” to get out of my billiard room base and kill more freaks.  I consistently hear of rising  zombie outbreaks popping up everywhere, but none are close enough for me Zeus, my trusted canine, to do anything about.  After sitting around in my billiard room, practically alone, for days now, I jumped at the chance to get more action.  Seems a small number of individuals are trapped in a backyard tree house a few miles away.  They claim to be in no immediate danger, but are trapped above a swarming hoard of hungry undead, with no way out and no more ammunition.”

Even though I had my suspicions, it sounded real enough to check out.  Gas and fuel is becoming very scarce, and food shelf lives are beginning to expire, making it increasingly likely for humans to set traps and turn on one another for their belongings.  But my neighborhood was already a barren wasteland of desolation.  All of my neighbors had either moved away or had become my own personal moving targets months ago.  Zeus is a loyal subject, but not much of a conversationalist, so I was ready to possibly make a few new friends.  Not to mention I had a brand new arsenal of pool cues and billiard balls at my disposal, none of which have yet been tested.  Oh yeah, and one more thing; the survivors said they were out of bullets.  That means they have guns, a very useful weapon against multiple zombies, given you also have bullets.  Without bullets, using a gun on a zombie would be as useless as trying to stab one with a pillow instead of a pool cue.  With bullets, however, a handgun is extremely quick and effective for multiple targets, especially in short-range situations, giving you a slight edge over your ravenous enemies.  Since I did not know what kind of guns they had, finding ammunition before locating the survivors was pointless, but if I could break them out of there, more guns and more people are definitely vital assets for survival.

Since neighborhoods and streets were almost completely abandoned, I chose to go by foot.  I can handle the sporadic “walker,” as I have come to call the undead, plus fuel conservation is a necessity.  It was only a few miles by streets, even shorter if you cut through yards and the park, and Zeus and I could use the exercise, anyway.  The walk to the given address was rather uneventful.  I did get to run over a walker’s head with a push mower—that was fun.  I realized, however, that I didn’t quite think that through thoroughly when the motor attracted every zombie in the subdivision.  It’s a good thing I’m still faster than them.  We had to bolt into a nearby wooded area to avoid becoming the appetizer at an undead block party.  You would think that after training Zeus to bark only on command, I would be a little quieter myself, but what can I say.  Sometimes, noisy, mass carnage helps relieve pent up frustration caused by forcibly becoming a zombie hunter.

Upon reaching the address in question, I proceeded to sneak around the side of the house to assess the situation.  I could already hear multiple moans in the backyard, mere feet from where I was standing.  Zeus peeked around the corner and looked back at me growling, looking for the go-ahead from me to attack.  I halted him and had a look myself.  The backyard was not fenced in and had a creek running behind it with a small tree line.  As certain as the clubhouse was in those trees, a mass of walkers were beneath it, probably 60 or 70 at least, clawing and grabbing at the ladder and trees, reaching for the helpless survivors trapped inside.  With a pool cue in one hand and a socked-up billiard ball in the other, I was ready.  Zeus peered up at me eagerly.

“Alright, boy,” I said to him quietly.  “Go do your thing.”

Without hesitation, Zeus ran towards the moaning crowd and began barking violently.  I watched silently as the hoard turned its attention towards my mutt.  Within seconds, the fiending mob gave chase.  Zeus quickly took off in the direction opposite me, luring almost the entire hoard away from the trapped, tree house crowd.  Once the zombies were far enough away, I creeped around the corner of the house and made way through the backyard, impaling a few lingering walkers with my pool cue who were hell-bent on getting to their “food.”  My cover was still intact as I finished off a third walker, then a fourth, then a fifth…then I was spotted.  Not by a zombie, but by a human.  One of the survivors noticed me and began screaming for help and banging on the closed window.  Her clatter roused the rest of the group to do the same, which not only gained my attention, but that of slower members of the undead hoard, as well.  Apparently, some undead are not as fast as others, and were still within earshot of screaming cries for help.  By my estimation, 20 or so heard the commotion and abandoned chasing my dog.  I knew I had about 90 seconds before they were on me.  Without delay, I made haste into the tree house, where I was greeted as a savior.  I explained the situation.

“We have about 60 seconds before we are all fast food kids treat meals…I appreciate you letting me in, but I came to get you out, not to get stuck here with you.  Let’s move, now!  Grab what you need…ten seconds…and don’t forget the guns!”

I opened the trap door and headed down the ladder, kicking a walker in the head in the process.  That does not work to well, however.  My trusty pool cue through its skull proved much more effective, dropping it immediately.  Five escapees followed me out, three guys and two girls.  From what I noticed, they had two handguns, a baseball bat, a long staff, and a halberd.  The staff somewhat resembled my pool cues, with slightly more thickness.  And don’t ask where this attractive, young woman acquired a halberd from.  She probably doesn’t even know what she was holding…or how to use it.  Regardless, she had about 15 seconds to learn.

The second we hit the yard, more walkers were on us.  Nothing special was noticed of the groups fighting skills, although I must say they held their own better than expected.  And the ferocity of the halberd girl, Julie, was sensational, as if she was taking it personal.  I did save at least two of them, but who is counting?  One of the men was bitten, but no one noticed…or at least that is what he thought.  I decided to save that confrontation for later.  Right now, we had to escape.  We headed towards the nearest wooded area for cover.

After we were safe, we gathered our breath and made brief introductions.  I offered them some food and temporary shelter at my home billiard room base, which they graciously accepted, and we proceeded back, once again finishing off a stray walker every now and then.  As we came upon the remains of my house and the outside entrance to my billiard room lair, I saw Zeus sitting, waiting for me rather impatiently.  I leaned over to pet him, pulled open the exterior cellar doors, and told everyone to follow in.  As my new comrades cloaked into the basement shadows, Zeus, although trained to be quiet, started barking violently down the stairs.  Something was wrong.  My mutt knew it.  Before I had time to react, one of the girls yelled.  Zeus bolted down the steps and I followed.  Horror struck my eyes as I realized why she had screamed.  Walkers were inside my billiard room!  But I cannot get into that right now.  Stay tuned for future transmissions…

Visit Billiard N Bar Stools today to catch up on earlier chapters of the zombie – billiard room chronicles.  Also learn how to use your pool cue, billiard balls, and other billiard room furniture to protect yourself from undead attacks.