2.8 days later – Chapter 3
I was really hungry. My growling stomach made sure I didn’t forget that. I should head towards the nearest grocery store and entertain a very slim chance of finding some food that wasn’t spoiled yet. While at that, I should start praying I do not encounter any more infected between now and the time I finish eating. Fat chance at that though.
The fracturing bat in my hand reminded me that I was without a good weapon. Maybe getting hold of one should be a higher priority. I didn’t want to be craving brains by the time I got to the grocery store now, did I? I could always go on a food raid after arming myself with a good weapon. This brought me to the next tip for survival.
Survival tip #2: Head to a gun store and arm yourself with an actual weapon
Movies featuring zombies in it typically have the actors heading to a gun shop and arming themselves with big heavy weapons. At once, their chances of surviving improve ten fold, and why not? Which flesh-rotting brain-dead creature could survive getting shot point blank with a shotgun, or getting their body riddled with a stream of rifle ammo, or for that matter even getting their face blown off with a revolver?
Even ignoring the sheer power of a bullet fired through a gun, just the fact that you could deal with danger from a safe distance itself made it worth it all. Of course, I didn’t see myself hauling a gatling minigun or even fumbling with a pump-action shotgun. A one time trap-shooting was my only experience with fire-arms, and I was miserably bad at that. So I could really use something I could spray around without having to aim. Maybe a submachine gun or even an assault rifle would do wonders for me. Suddenly the wooden bat in my hand felt so puny. The decision was made – off I headed towards the gun store.
I walked along the yellow center line of the empty street (I have been wanting to do this for ages!) This way I wouldn’t be surprised by an infected pouncing at me from the windows of the buildings, or one rushing at me from the abandoned stores or dark alleys. The nearest gun store was a few blocks away. I wanted to be there as soon as possible, but didn’t want to rush things and get caught in trouble.
My walk to the gun store was as uneventful as one could hope for in this scenario, but as I turned around the final corner, my heart skipped a beat (plenty of beats actually). Even from this distance it was obvious – I wasn’t the first to the gun store! Its reinforced shutters had been rammed through. The chunks of human flesh sprinkled over the dried puddle of blood on the sidewalk indicated I was late to the party by a day. Of course! How stupid could I be? In times like these was I the only person with the ‘brilliant’ idea of heading to a gun store? Between hundreds of survivors seeking the protection of a fire-arm, the gun store owners probably camping in the store to protect their assets (and asses) and the infected wanting to get their hands on the humans inside, what chance did I have? If anything, I was lucky I arrived here a day late!
The infected had probably ripped out the shutters to get at the cornered survivors inside just like we use a can-opener to get at canned tuna. Of course, the tuna isn’t alive, scared shit knowing the fact we were going to eat it alive.
So, did I walk all the way here for nothing? Heck, I was here, might as well step in to the store. Maybe, just maybe I might find a small pistol that was too weak for anyone to use. Maybe I would find a small revolver lying in a dark corner that was overlooked by the raiders. Maybe somebody even left some energy bars on the counter (yeah, I think that’s my stomach hallucinating)
I walked up to the store entrance and tried looking in through the ripped away section of the shutters. It was dark inside – the lights probably blown out in the gun fight. As my eyes got used to the dark I noticed the place was in shambles. The cabinets, once lining the walls had been ripped off. The display cabinets too had been broken down to pieces. There were empty ammo boxes strewn all over the place. Whoever did that had gone way beyond the intent of just stealing guns. This was a very deliberate and systematic demolition.
Thankfully, there were no dead bodies inside. Maybe there were at some point and sometime later they walked out searching for someone to eat. Looking over my shoulder one more time, I stepped into the store.
About twenty minutes of thorough searching got me three 9mm rounds, a couple of .22 rounds and a 12 gauge shell. Man, these guys were thorough at looting! No guns or even energy bars for me. Disappointed, I stepped out the store, looking at the ammo in my palm and contemplating if I should toss these away or keep them as a token of my wasted time and energy.
I had neglected my starving and had ignored the danger lurking in the streets, only because those stupid movies made me believe this was the best place to find a weapon during such an apocalypse. The truth was far from it. I should have known, in such a scenario this was the last place one would find a weapon. It was time to refactor this survival tip too.
Survival tip #2: A gun store would be the last place to obtain an actual weapon
Posted on April 30th, 2011, in Humor and tagged ammo, apocalypse, bat, brains, filya, firoz jokhi, funny, gun, gun store, humor, infected, infection, pistol, revolver, rifle, SMG, strategy, survival, undead, weapon, zombie, zombies. Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.