Zombafari

By
We came into the bar after a hard days work. The bar is an excellent place to be, it’s full of a bunch of hunters who have just got done doing what they love. Sprits are all high and there are plenty of smiles to go around. You can hang up your gun and have a cold one while listening to a story told by some of the greatest hunting enthusiasts of all time. We got a drink and looked around for some old fart to listen to.
“You kids lookin’ for a story?”
“Yes sir you got one?”
“I’ve got one. It’s about how this place got started. It’s about its original purpose. You boys remember that zombie outbreak awhile back? It has to do with that. Whyn’t you sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”
We all sat down. This guy kicked back and without looking at any of us exploded into his tale, speaking with a slow and steady pace with no dramatic emphasis. And let me tell you, he didn’t need any.



“What do you want Clemens I’m a very busy man”

“I know sir, but this is very important, I need your approval of something it’s dealing with the z-“

“Clemens, if you give me one more of your stupid ideas about what to do with these zombies, I’m going to fire you before you can say fire.”

“It’s not that Mr. President, it’s just that I think I found away to get rid of them for good.”

“Clemens for the last time, we’re not sending these zombies to the sun, they’re still humans God dammit.”

“I understand Mr. President, but this time we can even make a profit off of it.”

“Well Clemens, you have my attention now, how the hell do we get rid of these zombies and still make a profit.”

“Well Mr. President, you’re going to have to hear me out on this one, it’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Clemens I hope you realize how difficult it is for me to ‘hear you out’, when all you’re doing is sniveling about nothing.”

“Right Mr. President, anyway, a big game hunter named Percival Von Wolfenstein has offered to buy all the zombies and the area we have them located in. He’s offering us 2 million dollars for them sir”

“TWO BIILION!! Clemens, this is the chance of a life time.I just don’t know, the zombies have been multipling, it could get dangerous.”

“He said he would take care of gaurds and everything, we just have to hand over the deed”

“You can’t hand over the deed to human lives Clemens. But Christ all mighty two million dollars…and he can pay?...Alright, here’s the deal, I give him the land for a short period of time, we see what he’s doing with it and we see how well things go.”

“That’s a good idea Mr. President, but…how are we going to know what exactly he’s up too?”

“Clemens, I hired you to take care of these Zombies. I’ll give him the land and the zombies, you’re going to go and see exactly what he is up too.”

Clemens began to get a rather sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Being out with a mad man named Percival Von Wolfenstein and a bunch of multiplying zombies sounded like some bizzarre death wish given by some crude German Cartoonist. Clemens did what he always did in such a situation, a situation where he would be forced to know some facet of survival, some bit of knowledge that his corperate carreer depended on. Clemens went to the library. The Library was Clemens’ salvation in life, without The Library Clemens wouldn’t know that all you had to do to become a presidential cabinet member was get close to the president. Clemens wouldn’t understand the current social ques, he wouldn’t understand that the grocery store depends on an outside source for food, Clemens wouldn’t even know life outside existed if he didn’t have the library. His name was Andrew Clemens, and right now his stomach was a bit ill.

At the Library Clemens swiped every book about big game hunting he could lay his hand on. He went through the usual process, pictures, captions, headings, titles, text. That way he got the informational whole of the book. When he was done there he got every science fiction book that contained a segment on zombies there was to get, he read that. He read a bunch of books on guns, prisons and one book about how to survive in the wild the way ninjas do. Usually books help Clemens, they give him a feeling of relief. This time however, he started feeling very uneasy. With every book he read, and evey bit of information he took in, he began to feel more and more like he was about to take a trip to hell and nothing could prepare him.


“Listen up.” Percival Von Wolfenstein Towered on a crate inside of the garage at the entrance of the park. Inside the garage there were a handful of assorted vehicles inlucing a minibike, a safari jeep and an ATV, The walls were riddled with guns and explosives, not all of the guns were hunting guns, there were mini-guns, pistols, sub-machine guns and a few automatic machine guns. “Listen up”. An assortment of melee weapons lay on the table, bats, knives, and a bunch of miscellaneous clubs. Clemens’ eyes began to wand-“LISTEN UP!!” Percival Von Wolfenstien was standing on the box, he had just shot a handgun in the air. Eveyone looked up. “Welcome to Zombafari, you’ve been invited here as you are some of the most well renouned poachers and game hunters in the world. I’m offering you the chance of a life time, the chance to hunt the ultimate prey for the ultimate trophy. I have but three rules, 1. don’t be stupid I’ve spent a lot of money on this park and if you blow this, there will be supreme consequences. 2. Stick together, the most basic of safari rules, you get split up in this hell hole, and you’re dead and dinner. 3. I’ve got the rights to kill a particular zombie the first zombie there was, he’s a 7 footer, the leader of the pack. He’s mine. That’s the word as far as rules go. Your whole hunt will be documented by my Lebanese assistant Hernando.” Percival nodded toward a tan looking man wearing a turban to his right. Before Clemens could sneak out and worn the president about what was about to happen, everyone began suiting up. “This may be a game to some of you” said Percival “but this is more than a game to me, this is zombafari.”


Clemens wasflying in the back of a safari jeep with a machine gun. He was riddled with supplies and assortments of army paraphernalia. He was bouncing around in the back of the jeep, had the safety not been on his gun he would have been a goner. Next to him was a picture of Percival Van Wolfenstein carrying a bear head on his shoulders. The picture fit the setting of the jeep perfectly as Percival was driving like a mad man with the same psycopath smile on his face, it looked something like this.



Clemens couldn’t find any biographies of Percival Von Wolfenstein in the library. However there were records of him found on the computer. For example, he was wanted in Australia for poaching. Apparently he had the death penalty in New Zealand for killing six park rangers who tried to stop him from hunting. Percival Von Wolfenstein wasn’t aloud within 60 feet of any well known environmentalist, for the sake of both of their safety. He had been in and out of the army many times and served as a mercenary twice. In any case, this man was the devil.

During the next two days Clemens experienced the worst times of his life. He would parade around with this group of hooligans and blow zombies to pieces. Percival Von Wolfenstein would laugh hysterically and the other men would drink beer. They would drink beer and shoot guns. This is something that the library could not prepare Clemens for. He would drive around with these people and he would shoot at zombies, he would shoot and miss on purpose. At one point in time, their party stumbled across a group of praying zombies, Percival gave signal to put down the guns. Out came the melee weapons and off went the zombie’s heads. Clemens began to grow sick. Their party then stumbled across a mother zombie playing with her children. Percival Von Wolfenstein, his camera man, and several other beastly men snuck into there perimeter and cut them to pieces. Clemens threw up for a whole hour afterward. He told the men he had diarrhea, you can’t let people like this know that you can’t handle what’s going on, it will be the death of you. Clemens just had to wait until he could call the president and get this whole operation shut down.

Things began to get progressively worse and more profound. They would be wandering around and find large accumulations of bones. Tiny make shift weapons would litter the ground in certain areas. Everyone began to get nervous, everyone except Percival. After coming upon a camp full of makeshift weapons and armor they stopped encountering zombies for a couple of days.

One day Clemens woke up to see Percival Von Wolfenstein talking to a zombie. He was looking at the zombie and the zombie seemed to be begging Percival on his knees.
“Please, please please”
the Zombie was saying as Clemens approached the duo. Wolfenstein held up his hand to Clemens signifying for him to stop.
“No problem. You just tell me where this 7 foot zombie is and everything will be ok.”
“If I tell you, you’ll stop this madness?”
“Of course, I get down low and you just whisper it right into my ear” The zombie whispered something inaudible to Clemens into Percival’s ear.
Percival brought out a gun and shot it.
“I know where that blasted zombie is now. We need to kill it and get the hell out of here. Assemble the men.”
Clemens assembled the men and they set off, Percival in the lead with the mini-bike.

Now, Clemens had read all sorts of books for this adventure. He learned the hunting lingo, he learned the all the technicalities. Clemens never quite learned the point to killing anything. Sure there was self defense but-
His thought wasn’t finished; Percival was flipped from the mini-bike. It seemed to have been hit by a make shift arrow. All of a sudden several makeshift arrows came from the brush. Zombies began to crawl out of the bushes baring all sorts of weapons made of simple items. One zombie had a stick with barbed wire around it, he was 7 feet tall. Clemens only got a short look at this zombie before it was shot side ways by a blow from Percival elephant gun. Zombies began closing in on the men, their guns rang through the air but it couldn’t stop the onslaught of zombies. Percival was intertwined with the 7 foot zombie, but it finally pinned him down. It looked into his face and shouted “STOP THIS” Percival shot the zombie in the ribs with a side arm and then kicked its head off. He looked around, the men were getting slaughtered. Hernando was standing next to Percival, a zombie began to run towards them, Percival kicked Hernando into a crowd of charging zombies, grabbed the camera and ran out. Clemens wasn’t thinking, he leapt at Percival and tripped up his legs. Percival fell to the ground two Zombies began to tear at him, Clemens heard a loud shot and Percival stopped struggling. The gun was in his own hands.

No one is sure exactly how clemens escaped. I’ll never tell anyone. There is one thing for sure, nothing in the library ever prepared himfor that. It’s just something he’ll have to remember. Hecalled the president and demanded he shut down Zombafari and keep these zombies contained. When he asked if the zombies were dangerous he responded “No Mr. President, the zombies aren’t dangerous, we are. It’s become exceedingly obvious that these zombies are more human than we’ll ever be. I want this shut down Mr. President, don’t give me any of your bulls***, just take care of this or I’ll get you impeached before you can say impeached”

“Alright Clemens, we’ll take care of everything.”

The man finished his tale and looked around at us. We were all motionless, it seemed as though everyone in the bar had stopped and listened to this man’s tale.
“You’re him aren’t you? You’re Andrew Clemins”
The man simply chuckled to himself a bit. He stood up and walked out. He left us with a sick feeling in our stomachs. We had not spurs of intent any longer. I know personally that I had talked to a legend, the kind of legend that writes his own history books. I know I was talking to a real human, a legend of his own.





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KKmin said...
Aug. 5, 2008 at 7:04 pm
Great language skills, I really liked your word choice and dialects:)
 
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