• Oil City, Pennsylvania, USA
    [The steel rings out as I knock on the huge door of this underground bunker.
    A few scrapes and scratches come from behind the door. Taylor Dudaski
    comes from behind the door, rifle raised. His huge military frame and
    uniform add to the picture. An old friend, the two of us and other
    volunteers built this bunker in the early years of the war.
    We called it "Joe"*]



    Ironically, we were totally prepared for this. Enough canned goods for 5 years, strategies and maps, and the right supplies necessary to grow our own crops and maintain electricity. But the enemy we fought was different from the one we had in mind.

    What enemy was that?

    Enemy? Other countries. It was inevitable to be invaded from another country tired of our crap… it was just a matter of time. It wouldn’t be all “Wolverines!!**” and happy ride off into the sunset warfare…

    So you were worried about the Russians?


    Not just the Russians, the Chinese too. Either one had the potential, manpower and resources. Now, if they had joined…

    But they did in a way.


    As swarms of undead, yes, they had joined. But the Russians had no interest in help from other countries clearing their own. The Chinese, they were almost completely obliterated, save a few million refugees and militants. To think, that could have been us.

    But it wasn’t.

    No, no it wasn’t. We were well prepared for it.

    [We walk down a tunnel, walled with concrete. Heavy steel doors adjourn the walls leading into storerooms.]


    We had started working on the tunnels long before the Gs hit us. A, uh... friend of mine designed it all.

    [He nods in my direction and chuckles.]

    A glorious design, meant to last. It took time of course, it took a year just to get the small neighborhood area we had. Now, the shape of the valley the city rests in makes migration of zack a very slow process. We had plenty of time to prepare. Soon, people volunteered and we had more workers, more supplies, more materials, more everything! By the first spring of the war, we were seventy-five percent finished.

    Only seventy-five?


    Well, we needed weapons, electronics and fuel... Luckily by this time we had dug enough to the outlying cities like Titusville where some of the oil still remained. We had all these underground refineries and stuff like the VC did***.

    That only solves fuel though.

    [A smirk appears on his face]

    I never said our luck had run out yet. One day one of our scouts reported hundreds of Chinooks flying overhead. They were probably from the mass evacuation from the eastern seaboard. Anyway, I guess they were too heavy and low on fuel, because most had started dropping these huge crates all over town. We counted at least 321 crates. All the ammo, guns, equipment and parts to make more, were what we found inside. We now had Radio towers, munitions and vehicle factories, and turret emplacements all over.

    Seems like it was the perfect defensive position.

    It was! Good for both defense and offense! We could pop up anywhere we wanted, kill a few Gs and disappear like we weren't even there. And for defense, every entrance was secured by a massive bulkhead which only humans could get into. We had these compartments, you know, like the Titanic? Well They were designed to prevent "flooding" in other sectors.

    Was there ever a "flood"?

    Only once... We lost a lot of good people... almost lost my wife too.

    The infamous sector 8?


    [We all stop in front of a huge bulkhead. The window shows only darkness. Above it are the faded letters "Sector 8"]

    Remember Jason Houston and Joe Axelsen? They were in there when it started. They were the ones who sealed this door to keep them from getting in. We had the bulk of western Pennsylvania and all of sectors 1-7 in there.. and the still are. Nobody will touch the place.

    [A rotten hand smacks against the glass. My wife utters a gasp. On the wrist of the ghoul is a worn orange wrist band with the words "**** Orangeman".]






    * A nod to the song "Cotton Eye Joe". The bunker had various miles of tunnels meant for guerilla warfare, the punchline being "Where did he come from, where did he go?"
    **A line from the movie Red Dawn, in which the Russians invade the west coast.
    ***In the Vietnam war, The Vietcong had many underground munitions factories along with hospitals, and oil refineries.
    **** A reference to one of my friends, whom I parody the name Joe Axelsen, nicknamed Orangeman.