Sifer's Survival School 101 (Patreon)

The last hour of Sifer’s life flashed before her eyes like a slideshow flipping too fast. She removed her face mask with a gasp and took measured breaths to calm herself. Thirty feet away lie the corpses of three infected, while she sat toward the end of an alley between a paint store and a FastMart. She cleaned brown blood from the edge of the naginata’s blade and hummed to herself Glory to the Sutra of the Lotus of the Supreme Law, a Tibetan mantra she once learned.

First she had lost her father, now Melissa for the second time. All she really had to do was keep those two safe, but she kept failing. Melissa was no longer right, slipping in and out of some acute traumatic delirium. Whatever happened in that donut shop had shaken the poor woman to her core.

Sifer blamed the living and the dead. Chaos spread all too fast. In day two of the outbreak, civilization hung on the edge of a precipice. The National Guard shut down roads, set up quarantine areas, and advertised aid and shelter, yet every outpost or FEMA camp had turned them away. In the span of sixteen hours, she had lost her father, her girlfriend, and shelter. She had little food and half a bottle of water and only her practice suit and naginata. Things looked grim.

Sifer cleared her mind and repeated her mantra. This soothed her spirit and allowed her to plan. If she had any chance of finding dad and Mel, she needed to locate her center. She needed food, a safe place to rest, and supplies. Realistically, her father and girlfriend would need all of those things too.

A sharp whistle drew her attention from the right. A man came into view. He wore the tan and brown camouflage of a National Guard uniform and carried an M4 carbine. A larger rifle hung on his back along with a backpack. He was tall, pale, and wiry with a muscular physique. His mouth hung open, and he panted.

“Charlie, come back,” he shouted. He eyed Sifer and blinked hard. “You there. You alone?”

Sifer felt a pit in her stomach. In hindsight, she should have said nothing, but her sense of duty kicked in. “Yes, sir. Can I help in any way?”

A second soldier appeared at the end of the alley. He had darker skin than the first and a scruffy beard. He too wore an urban combat uniform and held an automatic rifle of some kind. Sifer hated guns and saw no use for them. Far too often they built up an abundance of false confidence or enabled people to exert their wills, even for evil.

“I was calling you over and over, like an idiot. Johnny-boy, over and again,” Charlie said. His shoulders slouched in defeat or annoyance, and he cleared his throat and spat at the window of a parked car.

Johnny-boy shrugged. “Sorry. Once things went sidewise, I got the hell out of there. Anyway…” He cocked his head towards Sifer, who still sat on the ground. A sudden smile beamed on his face. “Hey pretty girl.”

The two soldiers walked forward, sauntering through the alley. They smelled of whiskey, tobacco, and sweat. Blood patches marked their uniforms, and their hands were nearly black with dirt.

“Fancy suit you got there,” Johnny-boy said. “Nifty helmet. Go on and take it off. Be comfortable.”

“I’d rather leave it on.” Sifer stiffened, knowing what the bravado of these men implied. If they only meant to rob her, it would exceed her assumption of their level of humanity. She rose to her feet and held the polearm behind her, though the blade surely peaked above her head.

Charlie laughed, a high-pitched, foul one. “Drop that stick, little lady. Guns over sticks.” He tapped the barrel of his carbine.

Sifer was never one for trickery, though Melissa would often play a role to escape trouble. On their first date, they were pulled over by a police officer for speeding. As he appeared at the window, Mel broke out into a full-blown fit of crying and wielded a wild story of her recently deceased poodle, and her mother getting kicked out of a nursing home. Both were untrue. Melissa owned a cat, and her mother ran a dance studio in Tampa Bay. The officer gave her a warning for the traffic violation and practically ran to his car to escape the sobbing woman. Sifer just couldn’t handle things that way. Deceit was not in her toolbox. She used other assets.

She lowered the weapon to the alley floor, pointing the blade in their direction. As she rose, they moved closer, well within striking distance.

“We doing this the easy way or the hard way?” Johnny-boy said, rubbing his shaven face. He stared at her with an impurity to his gaze. Even through the thick padding of armor, Sifer body’s looked slender and tone. She knew both women and men found her attractive.

“You’re making a choice you’ll soon regret,” she said.

Both men paused. Johnny-boy cracked a smile while Charlie scoffed.

Sifer shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand me. Though I am a formidable fighter, two Special Forces soldiers should be able to overpower. It won’t be easy, nor will getting off this suit of armor. Even if you knock me unconscious, it could take ten minutes with all the buckles. I’ve encountered numerous zombies in the last hour, and noise draws them. Our fight will be noisy which leads to risk. Plus, the physical act will fatigue you.”

Johnny-boy leaned a hand on a brick wall, and his face showed deep thought. “Don’t worry ‘bout the noise. We’ll knock you out and bring you into one of these buildings.”

“You still haven’t considered the larger impact of your presumed sexual assault,” Sifer said. “It’s only day two of the outbreak, and several outcomes are easily predicted. First, the virus is eradicated and society is restored. Even as an optimistic, I’d put the chances low, even twenty percent. Your deeds will likely be discovered, and you’ll be charged for them. The second possibility is that the outbreak does not end, and civilization does end. The struggle will be difficult as we all scavenge for resources and shelter. Only bands of people working together will survive. That is a likely outcome if my understanding of viral spread holds up.”

Johnny-boy groaned and took a step forward. “Enough talk.”

As Sifer braced for self-defense, Charlie’s hand shot up and grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Hang on. Are you saying this outbreak is leading to the end of, well, everything?”

Sifer blew out a breath and took a moment to consider the question. “Society as we know it will sadly end unless the virus is eradicated within the next six months or so. There are epidemiologists who do forecasts on populations and access to resources that model the ways natural disasters not only cause short-term destruction but disable the propensity for recovery. People die or relocate which lessens the workforce and economic power of the affected region.”

“So, a hurricane blows through an area, and the people left to build are at a disadvantage,” Charlie said. “But won’t the government help?”

“If they can, sure,” Sifer said. She sat against a full trash bin. “The US government has a lot of resources as does the military, but they are suffering losses too. Their missions are to stay alive, to maintain order, and to provide aid to citizens, in that order. I imagine they are using their energy to stay alive, either off-shore on water crafts or in underground bunkers like Cheyenne Air Force Station. So I would not wait for help from them. No, right now you should spend your time finding your loved ones, getting to safety, and collecting supplies and non-perishable food. Anything else is not only a waste of time and energy but lowers your chances of survival. It’s survival school 101.”

Johnny-boy’s frown turned to a grimace. “This is stupid.”

He yanked his arm from Charlie and came at Sifer. In one smooth motion, she kicked up her naginata like it was a skateboard, gripped the middle, spun it in an arc, and slashed the soldier’s throat. He spun against the side wall, dropped his rifle, and grabbed his neck. Blood spilled from between his fingers, and he gurgled and writhed with wide, dying eyes. In a last moment of panic, he reached out to Sifer like he was falling from a cliff, looking for a saving hand.

Sifer glanced at Charlie and prepared to attack. He backed away and turned his carbine defensively.

“Whoa, whoa, alright, just hang on,” he said. “We got no need to fight. I barely liked that guy.”

Sifer crouched and kept the polearm between them. “Like I said, this type of aggression is pointless.”

He slung the carbine over his shoulder and stared at Johnny-boy who dropped to the floor, twitching. Charlie looked back at Sifer. “So if everything you say is true, what should I do now? I doubt my unit survived. I got nowhere to go.”

She lowered her weapon and stood up, taking a stance between relaxed and cautious. “Go out into the woods far from others. Avoid everyone as most will have the virus or be dangerous for other reasons. Find somewhere unreachable by zombies like a cave up a mountainside or even across water. Scavenge for supplies and stockpile them. Focus on canned food and medicine, such as antibiotics. Oh and should you have, um, carnal yearnings, consider masturbation as far less risky.”

Charlie nodded, looked for the last time at his companion’s corpse, and turned back to Sifer. “You want to come with? We got off on the wrong foot, but I’m not a bad guy really. The two of us can make it together.”

Sifer felt her gut clench. What she wanted to say was, “Are you serious? Do you think I would partner with someone who almost assaulted me?” What she actually said was, “I’m staying in the city to find my family. Until then, I need to travel alone. Good luck to you.”

“Alright then. Take care of yourself. I’m out of here.”

“Before you go, do you mind if I take some items off your companion, or your ex-companion?”

“Who him?” Charlie smirked and pointed to Johnny-boy’s corpse. “Take what you want. Hell, cut off his balls if you want.”

Sifer stifled a gag. “Just some of his gear. Thank you.”

He shrugged and clapped his hands. “Alright, peace out.” He turned on his heels and walked out of the alley. Sifer predicted he’d be dead in hours.

Sifer bent to the corpse and felt through the pockets. He had a few candy bars in cargo pockets and a backpack with a variety of supplies and food. She found a set of keys and a driver’s license. His home was not far away, and she’d need a place to stay. If she ever hoped to find Melissa and her father, she would need to rest somewhere safe. Finding those two would not be easy. Her only plan was to search for places her father might go in a strange town during an apocalyptic outbreak.

She skulked her way through the shadowed contours of buildings, behind trees, and the many abandoned vehicles scattered on the roads or sidewalks or lawns. As the temperature rose in the late morning, sweat coated her skin beneath the padded suit.  Her eyes wanted to close, and her muscles ached, but she plodded along. All the noises kept her awake: all the screams, the thunderous jet engines, the rattle of gunfire. 

She imagined Melissa cowering in some corner and her dad fighting off a zombie. She thought of how thirsty they must be. Had they slept at all? Did Melissa have her medicine and was she in the right mind to take it?

These thoughts pushed her along until she arrived at the address on the driver’s license. The house was boarded up with brand new sheets of plywood and fresh two-by-fours. A ladder hung outside, leading to a fire escape. The scurry of rodents drew her attention to a basement window.

It wasn’t much, but this house would do.