Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Zombie Preparedness   [Jonah Goldberg]

My wife and I just saw Zombieland. We liked it. She, I think, less than me — which is as it should be given that it's a bloody zombie movie. I don't want to offer any spoilers, so let me change the subject. For years, the Fair Jessica and I have been discussing preparedness scenarios for Red Dawn-style invasions by the Chinese, V style invasions, 28 Days Later rage-virus epidemics and, of course, mass zombification outbreaks. Oh, and yes, since we live in D.C., we do discuss the more plausible terrorist attack stuff, too (even though we're supposed to call them "man caused disasters now"). To be fair, most of the time my lovely bride mostly indulges me on this sort of thing — the more implausible the scenario, the more indulgence — but there is something oddly compelling about trying to think it all through.

Anyway, after seeing the movie, we've been talking quite a bit about zombies and zombie preparedness. I haven't read the Zombie Survival Guide, but it seems to me the most obvious course of action — particularly if you have enough notice — is to get as impressive a boat as possible, assuming you live near the coast. Zombies aren't strong swimmers. (It's important to note that preparedness scenarios vary enormously depending on whether or not they are "biological" as opposed to "undead" zombies, but for our purposes let's go with generic zombies). My wife, born of hardy Alaskan stock, is partial to compounds in the mountains. There are many advantages to such an approach, but it seems to me that strong, unswimmable, ocean currents are the only natural defense against zombies. Rivers and lakes are no good because there's going to be so much post-apocalyptic flotsam and jetsom it's possible that zombies could ride an old VW bug or a floating refrigerator right into your boat. Also, for the same reasons, escape routes are limited. I'm not saying it's perfect, but it is better than the alternatives as far as I can tell. I suppose some biological zombies could be held off by the extreme cold in someplace like wintertime Alaska. But the thing is the humans would have to survive too. No, the wisest course of action would be to park your boat a few hundred feet off the coast someplace warm, loaded with guns and other provisions, and then just sit by the radio. Or, if they're the real undead, take the boat to a very small deserted island, preferably with a swank summer house on it. Set your guard dogs loose as an early warning system and sit tight.

On this, there can be no debate!

Update: From a reader:

What do you do for water on your boat? Also in one of the new movies they tried this but zombies somehow got em. I think they were biological zombies though.

I think you need to refine your plan to go out on Lake Superior or one of the great lakes. You would then have 1) fresh water; 2) many islands, some uninhabited and 3) access to both large cities for supplies and trackless wilderness at the same time.

I don't know about the movie the reader has in mind, but you might have noticed that many zombie movies are populated with shockingly stupid people.

As for provisioning the boat, I had this very argument with TFJ. Look, you can pack a LOT of water on a nice boat. But you could also load up an inflatable with even more supplies and tow it out with you. I'm not saying you wouldn't have to ration. But you can load a lot more supplies on a styling 90-foot boat than you can carry on your back to some remote mountain cabin.

If the concern is how to procure a vessal, pshaw! If you have to buy it, all you need is the down payment to take posession. Cost doesn't matter — all debts are forgiven in Zombieland. And if things have already gone to hell, just take whichever boat you can get to.

I don't mind the Lake Superior thing, but that's a hike from where I'm at. And it's cold up there. The Florida Keys are easier to get to, and you don't need to light any dangerous/revealing fires at night. By all means, though, if you live in the Great Lakes area when the zombification begins, go thataway. Do not drive into the nearest city and start walking around!

Update II: D'uh! A reader (on Facebook) pointed out the real obvious flaw here. Lake Superior freezes over! Zombies can walk on ice!

Update III: A reader makes a good point:

Jonah,
 
Regarding ships or small islands as refuges during zombie attacks: Brooks covers this at length in The Zombie Survival Guide, but keep this principle in mind.  Whatever smart idea occurs to you during a zombie apocalypse will also occur to hundreds of thousands of other desperate, armed people.  For example, if you're in upstate New York, the islands in Lake Champlain could be excellent shelters.  That's why everyone in upstate New York, having thought of the subject for a few minutes, will head there in a hurry.  The fact that you have already laid claim to one of those islands will not make you safe.
 
In a zombie apocalypse, your fellow humans will be just as dangerous — and possibly moreso — than the undead.

Yes, this is one of the strongest arguments for the lock-and-load compound my wife prefers. But that, too, has the same problem. Basically, my scenario depends on either having advanced notice or having already out-lived most of humanity.

10/14 04:05 PMShare