THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES chapter 14 The Little Battery That Couldn't (Range Anxiety is Real)

THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES chapter 14 The Little Battery That Couldn't (Range Anxiety is Real)

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Here is Chapter 15, Dave’s terrible car games, and the strategic route map.

THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES

Post Title: The Little Battery That Couldn't (Range Anxiety is Real)

Date: Wednesday, Late Afternoon

Mood: Stranded. Again.

Current Status: Coasting silently into a bad neighborhood.

I love the environment. I really do.

But right now, I would trade my soul for a gas-guzzling, smog-emitting V8 engine.

We had escaped the immediate horde. We were cruising down 4th Avenue, heading toward the river. The plan was to cross the bridge and loop around to the Stadium from the north side.

It was going well. Too well.

"We are making excellent time," Brenda noted, checking the side mirror. "At this rate, we will reach the perimeter by sunset."

"Hey," Dave said from the back seat. "What does that little blinking plug icon mean?"

I looked at the dashboard.

BATTERY LEVEL: 4%

RANGE: 2 MILES

"Brenda," I said, my voice tight. "Did you charge the car after the garage escape?"

Brenda gripped the wheel. "I... prioritized rapid extraction over charging protocols. We were fleeing undead Crossfitters."

"We have two miles," I said. "The Stadium is five miles away."

"Regenerative braking," Brenda muttered. She started tapping the brakes aggressively. "If we coast, we gain charge."

The Death of the Prius

We coasted. We crawled. We turned off the AC (bad idea, given the smell). We turned off the radio.

We made it 2.5 miles.

We were in the Industrial District now. Warehouses. Chain-link fences. It was gray, desolate, and eerily empty.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

BATTERY LEVEL: 0%

SHUTTING DOWN.

The dashboard went dark. The hum of the engine died. The car rolled forward another fifty feet, slowed, and came to a gentle, silent stop right in front of a building with a sign that said "JOE’S SALVAGE & SCRAP - BEWARE OF DOG."

"Well," Brenda said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "That is suboptimal."

We sat there for a moment. The car was dead. We were exposed.

"Look on the bright side," Dave offered. "At least we aren't near the hot dog zombie anymore."

"Out," Brenda commanded. "Grab the gear. We proceed on foot."

The Junkyard Dog

We stepped out. The air here was cooler, smelling of rust and oil.

WOOF. WOOF. WOOF.

From behind the chain-link fence of the salvage yard, a massive shape threw itself against the gate.

It was a Rottweiler. A huge one.

We all froze, weapons raised.

The dog barked again. It wasn't the wet, gurgling bark of a Zom Zom dog. It was sharp. Angry. Alive.

"It's alive!" Dave said, delighted. "Who's a good boy?"

"David, step back," Brenda warned.

Then, a voice came from inside the scrap yard. A human voice.

"Buster! Knock it off!"

A man appeared from behind a stack of crushed cars. He was wearing welding goggles and holding a flamethrower. (Okay, maybe it was just a propane torch taped to a leaf blower, but it looked terrifying).

"You lot bitten?" he shouted through the fence.

"No!" I yelled. "We are just battery-challenged!"

The man eyed us. He eyed Brenda’s keyboard shield. He eyed the cat.

"Alright," he grunted. "Come in before the sun goes down. But if you try to eat me, Buster eats you."

He unlocked the gate. We walked into the fortress of junk.

CAR GAMES FOR THE APOCALYPSE

(Invented by Dave during the stressful drive, mostly ignored by Brenda)

Since the radio was off to save power, Dave tried to keep morale up.

1. "I Spy" (Apocalypse Edition)

  • Dave: "I spy with my little eye... something beginning with F."

  • Me: "Fire?"

  • Dave: "Yes."

  • Me: "It's the whole city, Dave. Everywhere is fire."

2. "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" (But for Patient Zero)

  • Goal: Connect Kevin Bacon to the Zombie Outbreak in six steps.

  • Dave's Logic: Kevin Bacon was in Tremors -> Monsters come from the ground -> Scientists study monsters -> Lab accident -> Virus -> Zom Zoms.

  • Brenda's Rating: "Illogical and a waste of cognitive resources."

3. "Would You Rather?"

  • Dave: "Would you rather have a chainsaw for a hand (Ash Williams style) or laser vision that only works when you sneeze?"

  • Me: "Chainsaw hand. Obviously."

  • Brenda: "Laser vision. Hands are required for filing paperwork."

4. "The Quiet Game"

  • Winner: Everyone, for exactly 8 minutes before Dave asked if zombies poop.

THE ROUTE MAP: FROM PRIUS TO STADIUM

Brenda updated our mental map. The car is dead. We are on foot.

       [ THE STADIUM (GOAL) ]
              /   \
             /     \
    [BRIDGE] (Blocked?)
       |
       |  <-- (The River)
       |
 [INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT] (Current Location)
       |  (Joe's Junkyard - We are here)
       |
       |
 [DEAD PRIUS ZONE]
       |
       |
 [CITY CENTER] (The Horde / Hot Dog Man)

Tactical Analysis:

  • The Bridge: It’s the only way across the river to the Stadium. It’s likely jammed with cars.

  • The Hazard: The bridge is a "chokepoint." If Zom Zoms are on it, there is nowhere to run except... off the side.

  • The Asset: Joe (The Scrap Yard Guy). He has a dog, a welding torch, and lots of metal. Maybe he has a truck that works?

Status Update: We are inside the Salvage Yard office. It smells like old grease and wet dog.

Joe is heating up a can of beans on a hot plate. Buster the dog is staring at Mister Whiskers. Mister Whiskers is staring back. The tension is palpable.

Joe lifts his goggles. "So," he says. "You guys want to get to the Stadium? You know the bridge is rigged to blow, right?"

"Excuse me?" Brenda asks.

"The military," Joe says, chewing a bean. "They rigged the bridge. To keep the infection on this side. If you step on it... boom."

Well. That complicates things.

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