Designed to help you hone your survival, anti-Zombie skills and preparedness level, the Zombease Choose Your Own Adventure series challenges you to think outside the box and work with what you have at hand. It’s up to you to make it out alive… no matter what it takes.
Location: Outskirts of a medium-sized city, farmland/forested area
Time: Mid-Afternoon, Spring
Supplies: Bolt-action .308 varmint rifle, 15 rounds, survival knife, leather boots, jeans, light wool jacket, leather belt, sunglasses, wool hat, small pack, signal mirror, butane lighter
Pack - Rifle kit, binoculars, 3-days worth of rations (food and water) for one, mess kit, duct tape, gauze, scissors, floss (for thread), extra socks, 25′ paracord, blanket, 8′x8′ tarp, metal spikes for tarp, hatchet.
Additional Personnel: None.
Situation: It’s been a few months since the SHTF, and you had to bug out and away. You lived in a nearby city when everything went to hell. You made your way to the outskirts and countryside as they were more suitable for self-sufficient living, and you figured there would be less chance of infection away from the masses. So far you’ve successfully avoided looters, the dead and other dangers, but over the last few months you’ve seen the remnants of those who haven’t been so lucky… As such you’ve taken to avoiding civilization almost entirely. No longer venturing into the city on supply runs and rescue missions you are now completely on your own.
One day, while out checking some snares that you set and scavenging supplies from a nearby farm, you notice the beat of helicopter blades in the air and look up to see a solitary black helicopter pass overhead, moving erratically and swerving steeply side to side. You’re guessing that it’s some form of military or law enforcement, but you don’t see any weapons mounted on the body. As the chopper disappears behind the treeline you hear an crash and crunch of metal on wood and smoke soon follows. Moving to the wreckage so you can get a clear view and survey the scene, you see a single pilot thrown free and bleeding on the ground. There is movement coming from under a mess of shredded metal beside the chopper and a handgun laying several yards away from the body of the wreckage. The chopper doesn’t appear to have exploded, but there is some fire and heavy smoke coming from the wreckage…
What do you do? Comment below!
The Rules:
- You only have the supplies and personnel listed above.
- Keep it real, keep it clean, and do your best to survive.
Grab the gun, fast!. Then after that weapon is seccured check the pilot. Since zombies arent known to fly choppers he’s likely safe for at least the next few minutes. Need to get an account of what happened from him while he’s still one of us. If he appears to be bitten or infected shoot him in the head with the handgun. Then back off to a safe distance and cover the chopper and the pile with your ri.308 and see what happens. choppers usually don’t catch fire and NOT eventually blow up. Whatever is under that pile will either die in the explosion or be put down at range with the .308. But don’t hang around too long. You’re likely not the only entity that heard that crash. If the pilot doesn’t appear to be in danger of turning, patch him up and move him into a safe area, but don’t turn your back on him. Just because he’s not an undead doesn’t mean he’s on your side
Nice Shane!
Great thinking Shane.
I would be grabbing the pistol quick too. I would check the pilot, but wouldn’t waste a bullet, thats what a knife to the skull is for. I figure with the way he was flying either he was bit, or someone on the aircraft was. Whatever is moving is almost assuredly been bit or has already turned. I would be high tailing it out of there. No real reason to stick around, like Shane mentioned, it will blow up. Just a question of when. THe noise of the chopper flight and crash will for sure had attracted anyone and anything in the area. I keep my eyes and ears open and head for higher ground (if there is any) to keep an eye on the area.
(ps. a 308 isn’t really a varmint gun, its a fairly decent deer rifle)
Seeing as you’re a distance from the pilot and gun, i’d survey the area, if no immediate threat, i’d keep my rifle aimed at the pilot as i moved in.. if he goes for the gun fire a warning shot and verbal command for him to back off, secure the gun first, Tell the pilot i’m there to help and i need his eyes on the area to watch our backs. then investigate the movement, could be another hurt..could be an infected (wrong place wrong time …or right time?) once clear, i’d hopefully be able to clean him up and get him walking.
I agree with both of these comments- survey the area, secure the gun first and then assess the state of the pilot. Any intel you can get from him would be useful and as he has been up high, he will at least have seen the lay of the land and could advise of any nearby hazards / benefits. If there are any other useful items around I’d be taking them too but like the other guys said, I wouldn’t be hanging around too long – avoiding other people / zombies is what has kept me alive this long and the crash would draw attention. Would also need to re- assess my base camp in light of the crash – is it far enough away / concealed / secure from anyone/anything drawn towards the crash site? Presumably I’d have already sorted my second retreat zone for emergencies so I could move quickly if necessary.
Well….I feel it’s safe to assume that the rifle doesn’t have any scope. Anyways, While under cover of brush and tree, I’d scout the area out using the binoculars first. To avoid glare, The binoculars lenses would be covered with duct tape, squares cut out to allow the bino’s to be used properly. It’d be a quick recon, naturally considering that a chopper (let alone a crashed one) goes unnoticed. Not to mention the thing appeared to be having problems before hand. After the quick recon, Return the binos to my pack and leave my back hidden in a bush. I pray that my rifle has a sling, but I feel it safe to assume that it does, in fact, have one.
Taking nothing but my rifle(and the items on my belt and in my pockets) up to the crash. I’d move fast, but i’d remain low and use brush cover to get as close as i could before venturing into the open. You didn’t specify if the chopper landed in a small clearing or not. So for the sake of this story, it did.
First order of business, Check the pilot. I would approach the body quickly, stopping only briefly to pick the handgun up as I passed it. With a quick chamber check, and racking it if needed, I’d simply throw the sling of my rifle over my head, so the rifle were to hang on my chest. Approaching the pilot, I’d keep the muzzle directed at the man, going so far as to press it against the side of his head as I checked his pulse.
From here, We have two different directions this story COULD go. Either the pilot is dead, or alive. For the sake of the story, we will go with alive.
–However, if he were dead, a few well placed blows to the back of the neck with the rifle stock, or even the knife blade, would solve any zombie issue.—
Ensuring the movement under the metal is still under the metal, I’d slip the handgun into the waist of my pants (after removing the mag slightly and racking it to remove the round from the chamber, then clicking the mag back into the grip) and roll the man onto his back. Going around by his head, I’d kneel down and scoop him up from under his arms, lacing my fingers together in front of his chest. Then I would drag him away to safety where my bag was. I would tend to his wound quickly, using duct tape and squares of his flightsuit(I’d take segments from the legs of his suit) to stem the bleeding. Currently we are to close to a major threat to tend to them properly. Putting my bag back on, I’d then get the man tossed over my shoulders in a Fireman’s carry.
—You never said anything about having or not having a shelter. But for self sustained living, I’d need at least a shelter elsewhere. To limit my supplies, it can be made entirely of tree limbs, branches, and the tarp you have listed in my gear.—
Once I got him back to my base, I’d tend to his wounds properly. After removing any and all weapons from him.
—It’s safe to assume that he would have at least a few more magazines for the pistol. An M9 and 3 spare magazines sounds reasonable to me. The currently used magazine can be half emptied. He did, after all, possibly fight with a zombie, which lead to the crash of his chopper.–
However, Once his wounds are tended too, I’d bind his arms together with a bit of tape and question him once he awoke. (During the tending of his wounds, I’d have noticed if he was bit or not. So I omitted that bit. With the exception of telling you here.)
This is rather fun, So for the sake of continuing this for your late night internet reading (Your reading skill will increase, by the way. Be looking forward to spending your new skill point) we will have the pilot be friendly and thankful. However, due to the lack of in depth description, I’ll have to make due and improvise. However I’m sure you didn’t expect anyone to be so…..descriptive and thought out.
After he’s recovered, let’s say it’s not anything debilitating or long term, we’d set out a bit. He’d be returned possession of his handgun and we’d return to the wreckage after some time. The next day near dawn, that is. After everything has calmed down. We’d loot what we could from the crash. Primarily chunks of metal. While out on these looting missions, we’d stop by some of the farm houses and loot the tool sheds and barns. We’d pick up some tools, obviously. Some files, a steel saw, wood saw, and we’d make note of a small power grindstone that one of the sheds have.
Using the tools, we’d begin to craft various weapons and items, namely spikes and speartips, for hunting larger game. We would also rig up some deadfall traps using lengths of rope and natural cordage we found. If any. Since I have a mess kit, we already have a way to boil water from any nearby source. And I would imagine deer pass through the area quite a bit.
But then, after a week or two, the pair decide to split up during their looting mission. However Andy, the pilot, wouldn’t return. Getting worried, I’d sleep through the night and set off early in the morning towards where he had been looting. He had ventured into a small cluster of homes. First thing I notice is a few shell casings in the middle of the road and a few corpses. I feel the urge to call out but know that’s out of the question. However encountering these dead undead would remind me of what I’m up against. So I’d move slowly and keep my rifle shouldered at a Low Ready.
Moving slowly, I’d approach one of the buildings windows and, while being crouched under it, reach up and rap a knuckle against the window a few times then listen. All I hear is a gentle rush of wind as it picks up for a brief gust.
It seemed to quiet. Even though it’s been several months since shit went bonkers, I still feel there should be children running in the road. I rarely ever ventured into any real urban area. The area was just to still. That in and of itself was sinking a cold fear into me. It was unnatural. I spent so much time out on my own that I nearly forgot exactly what I was facing. And losing my only friend now was frightening. Months with no contact, just me and my thoughts, and then I find someone. I save his life and he returns the favor by being there. By being something else other than loneliness.
I begin to find it hard to focus. Thoughts of Andy, of my friend, begin to run through my head. Coupled with the feeling of being alone, and the fear that I may once again be alone. My heart begins to beat faster and my breathing quickens. I couldn’t go back to being alone. It’s maddening. The only things I ever interact with were rodents I was chasing, or a freshly caught creature that had happened to avoid breaking it’s neck with the snare and was hanging there, strangling itself. I’d sooner kill myself then return to that.
These thoughts brought along an…urgency. A feeling that Andy might still be alive but needed help desperately. Although this was a bad idea, Andy needed my help. To hell with such extremes to remain undetected. With a renewed purpose, I stand up and peer through the window. Inside looked….normal. There weren’t blood stains. Or toppled furniture. It just looked like the owners had gone to the store.
Moving around to the front of the house, I yank the door open and enter into it. “ANDY!” I call out. No response. Just the stillness and the faint air howling. The wind had begun to pick up, some. It was an ominous, albeit faint, sound. It was rather constant now. I didn’t get a response, so I decide to run a quick check. He could be hurt. With the muzzle pointed ahead of me, I go room to room. No sign of Andy. However most of the house did have that looted look. It was remarkably clear of blood however.
Onto the next house. To hell with stealth. I was convinced that Andy needed my help and he needed it now. I just didn’t know where he was. This house, unlike the last, was missing the front door. It wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Going between rooms, rifle readied, I make quick checks. Still no Andy. In the distance there was a faint rumble of thunder accompanied with a still increasing wind speed. As time passed, I became even more worried. So I pressed through faster. In the third house I needed to break my way in by shattering a window and climbing in. I began to press through, faster then before. I had also been making quite a bit of noise. In the floor above I heard a thump. Thinking it was Andy, I sprint up the stairs three at a time and take sprint to, and through, the door that lead to the room that played host to the thump.
Standing near a window, silhouetted, was a figure. Taking a step closer, I tilt my head to the side slightly. “Andy?”
The figure turns quickly, but otherwise doesn’t move. Doesn’t make a sound. Just stands there. I’m unable to distinguish any details about the figure, aside from that he, or a very manly she, had short matted hair.
I began to reach out, lowering my rifle, with one hand, but stop. Something wasn’t right. I narrow my eyes, slightly, while eyeing the figure. Lowering my voice, I ask it.
“Who are you?”
No response. The figure just stood there. After a few seconds, the figure began to sway softly left and right. Outside there was a deeper rumble of thunder and a few drops of rain tinking off of the roof. The floorboards beneath the figure began to creak softly with it’s swaying.
Then it dawned on me. I begin to swear but it’s cut short by the figure lunging towards me. I attempt to sidestep the figure, however it still managed to plow into my shoulder and throw my balance off, sending me to the ground. Thankfully, the figure wasn’t all to graceful and landed on it’s face a few feet past me. However unlike most zombies, this one appeared to posses a fairly high reaction time and was standing almost as fast as I was. Lifting the rifle up enough to fire it, literally, from my hip, I squeeze the trigger. At this distance, even a child could hit. The recoil hurt my wrist, however it also knocked the zombie flat on it’s back. Lifting it and pulling the bolt, I cycle a new round in and deliver an aimed shot to the head. The .308 tearing through and causing a gory mess on the wall.
“Noo!!!” It was across the street. It sounded like Andy! He did need my help! Rushing down the stairs, I nearly trip in my rush to get to him. The door was shut, however I had a running start, so I jump and ram my shoulder into the door. The door repelled me. It was shut tight. Swearing aloud as the rain began to fall harder, the sun having taken shelter behind some thick rain clouds. “Andy! Hold on!” I should, looking around for a window to climb through. No luck. All were boarded up tight.
Swearing in frustration, I shoulder my rifle and fire a shot into where the doorknob meets the door. Splinters flew, but a solid kick told me the door was still locked. Another shot into the doorknob knocked the latch clean out of the door, but also sent fragments back at me, bits of metal and wood embedding itself into my left leg.
Ramming the door with my shoulder again, it swings open after breaking a small chain lock. Limping slightly, I begin to climb the stairs, gripping the handrail in one hand, the other gripping my rifle. “I’m coming Andy. I’ll help you.” I thought. Grunting a bit, as I reach the top step. Outside the rain had picked up considerably. Now it was a loud drone that seemed to wash out all other noise. The strong wind wasn’t helping, howling through the opened door, blowing fat drops of rain onto the bloodstained floor.
Three gunshots sounded in the room right next to me.
“Andy!” I call, a gunshot covering my voice up. Without thinking, I limp over and throw the door open. “And-” Another gunshot. A man, who wasn’t Andy, stood in a corner, his hands shaking as he held a handgun. Pointed directly at me.
I began to feel something warm dripping down my stomach. Looking down, I had taken a bullet straight to my solar plexus. “I’m so sorry….” the man whispered. My head began to spin and my legs grew weak. I dropped down to my knees. So here I was again. Alone. I failed Andy. And now Andy would be alone. “I….I failed…you…” I managed to whisper the words out before I fell, unable to support my weight. “I’m…sorry…Andy.” The storm began to subside. It was a quick storm. And within minutes, it was gone. As was the wind it came in on.
Dang. Took me like….3 hours to do that. Hope you guys enjoyed the ride.
I know I did. I feel kinda bad, though. I sort of forced out this ending. I wanted to end it with getting killed, but I couldn’t decide on how.
Dylan. That was the longest comment EVER…. But is was also the most brilliant answer to any of our choose your own adventure stories so far!
I’m trying to work out “contest” details for winning comments in the future. Thanks for stopping by and keep up the great writing!
Oh, I will. Usually I avoid getting into these sorts of choose your own adventure thing. Cuz I tend to go pretty into it. Lol. Hell, Once I got the pilot I went off into a story, rather then answering your “How would you survive” but it was fun. I haven’t done any storytelling for quite some time. It felt good to get some story out. Reviewing it, I’m saddened. Several errors and the ending is kind of forced. Perhaps I will get into more of your CYOA posts.
very well crafted indeed. hope to see more of your writing here!
I take rifle, knife, blanket & para cord, hiding eveything else so I’m not weighted down. Check on the pilot & determine what happended & how many people were on the hilo. gather any supplies & possibly the pilot then get out of dodge grabbing my gear.
story teller style narrative:
I didn’t survive this long by running toward danger. I circle around wide and find a tree with branches low enough to climb. I ascend about 10 feet and wait. if the chopper blows I’ll pick through the wreckage, if it burns out I’ll move in to help the pilot if I can. after several minutes the fire dies down, the scratching from beneath the metal however does not let up. after ensuring the safety of the descent I climb down and walk softly towards the wreckage. the pistol is a Beretta 92F standard issue, a quick check determines the magazine is nearly full of ball ammo. I make the weapon safe and tuck it in my waistband. I carefully approach the pilot, from my hide I never saw him regain consciousness, his breathing is shallow and and pulse very weak. I roll him into the recovery position and walk back to the downed helo. a quick glance back ensures I am alone and the pilot hasn’t moved. The radio is smashed from the impact. I find the choppers med kit and look around for anything else useful. nothing appears to be of any value to my skill set. I carry the med kit outside and set it on the ground in the open. the scratching will attract the dead if I don’t do something about it. I open the med kit, and dump it on the ground, it has obviously been modified for the chaos of the last few months. I find an epi-pen and decide it’s worth a shot to try and revive the pilot. I administer the shot and wait, his pulse quickens and eyes flicker, but he doesn’t come around. that’s the price I pay for waiting out the chopper fire I suppose… I pick a branch with a fork in it and catch the edge of a piece of debris. I lever it out of the way and quickly draw the pistol in case I have freed the source of the noise. he is still trapped pinned at the waist and wearing the same uniform as the pilot. I grab another branch, a heavy one, and drop it to pin both of the zombies arms. ammo conservation is the name of the game, so I plant the hatchet firmly in his skull, remove it and wipe it on the grass. I move the remainder of the wreckage to discover 2 additional magazines full of 9mm ball. I strip the bootlaces and pocket knife he had, nothing else of value was found. I walk back to the pilot after a quick survey in all directions to make sure I was still unobserved by any threats. the pilot has expired, I begin going through his things. another pocket knife, some chewing gum and a notebook. the notebook details the last few weeks in short entries. the base had run out of rations and the ranks were getting mutinous. the last entry said he was going to try and make it to “Jerry’s” no indication what direction or how far. I know that other undead are closing on this position after the loud crash, I’ve been lucky to be here unhindered for this long, but I need to retreat to my safe zone before it gets dark. I’ve been holed up in an abandoned barn for about a week now, up in the hay loft. I broke the ladder loose from the structure and drag it up behind me when I retire for the evening. tomorrow I’ll revisit the site and find a piece of metal that will be suitable for digging. I’ll use the tarp to construct a solar still. the sun rises and I eat and drink some of my limited rations. I sit still and listen for movement, nothing nearby, but something in the distance. I look out the single window of the hay loft and there are no threats to be seen. I carefully lower the ladder and begin my trip towards the crash sight. there are half a dozen dead moaning, scratching at the wreckage. I use my signal mirror to attract their attention from a distance, with their limited eyesight this technique is hit or miss… when one shambles the others take notice and follow. I lead them away and circle back around, knowing my time is limited. I find a piece of metal suitable for digging and make my way back to my safe zone by another route. I select a stout branch and lash the metal to it. I cover the cord with duct tape to minimize abrasions from the digging. I dig a 4×4 hole and place a collection container in the center. I cover the hole with the tarp and stake down the edges and gently toss a small stone into the center so the condensation drips into the container. I walk in the direction away from the crash and retrieve a couple squirrels from my snares, and a rabbit from a deadfall. I reset the traps and make my way back to the barn. the notebook said that base had run out of rations, if military installations can’t resupply- hope of order being restored anytime soon is in vain. I need to collect water more quickly so I’ll head into town tomorrow to scavenge in any local stores and dwellings for bottled water. if there’s a farm equipment store I might find an auger to get a proper well dug. this might be a good spot to wait out the clock on civilization rebuilding itself…….
First, I would hide behind a tree and use my binoculars to assess the situation from a distance. As the pilot is struggling to get up and failing, I notice another soldier climb through the wreckage. He looks to be badly injured at first, but it’s not affecting him. With his injured legs, he can only move slowly towards the other pilot. He’s foaming at the mouth with bloody drool, and his eyes look dead. His skin is pale. The other pilot struggles, trying to crawl to the handgun. Upon confirming that the other man is infected, I quietly sneak up behind him and plant my knife in the back of his neck, pulling upwards and into the brain stem. The man crumples to the ground without making a noise. I put away my knife and walk up to the pilot. The first thing I do is assess his wounds. Miraculously, he doesn’t have any broken bones beside a single rib, but there’s a deep cut on his lower leg and he has a concussion. On the surface, I don’t see any bites. I wrap the wound with some gauze, securing it with duct tape. The bleeding hasn’t stopped, but has significantly slowed down. The next order of business is to get the pilot away from the chopper. I’m not sure if it’ll explode or what, but it’s good to be safe. I grab the handgun and drag the pilot away from the wreckage, into a nearby field. I ask him his name and where he came from, but he’s too confused to remember anything right now. (not trying to seem weird here) I take off his clothes and check him for bites. He doesn’t have any bites. I give back his stuff. He can’t walk because he’s too dizzy and his leg is in too much pain. I carry him to the nearest farmhouse, which isn’t too far away. I check everywhere for medicine, and I end up finding some healing ointment for burns and cuts. I also find some antibiotic ointment. I remove his bandages, and the bleeding has appeared to stop. I smear a combination of both ointments on and around the
wound. I get some fresh gauze and wrap it around his leg, again securing it with duct tape. I give him the handgun to protect himself if he needs to. I search the house for food and water, finding 2 bottles of water and 4 canned items- 2 cans of chicken soup, pears, and tomatoes. I give him a bottle of water, then I heat up some chicken soup over the fireplace. After he’s eaten, I stay with him. We stay here for another day, until his leg stops hurting and his concussion wears off. After that, I leave him with a day’s worth of food and water and the handgun. We say our goodbyes and then I’m on my way.
Fantastic submission. Thanks for sharing, Luke!