The Art of War for Zombies: Ancient Chinese Secrets of World Domination, Apocalypse Edition. (7 page)

There are but few primary colors, yet they produce more hues than can ever be discerned by the Undead eye. You need only concern yourself with a few colors: green (friend), red (nourishment), and—of course—gray (BRRRAAAIIINNNS!).

There are not more than five cardinal tastes (cardinals are delicious, if you are lucky enough to find yourself in Vatican City)—sour, acrid, salt, sweet, and bitter—yet combinations of them yield more flavors than can ever be tasted.

BRRRAAAIIINNNS. BRRRAAAIIINNNS and bacon. BRRRAAAIIINNNS, bacon, and chocolate. The list is endless, but should always include your diet staple, the Human.

So we have endless combinations of maneuvers at our disposal, depending on our individual levels of mobility.
Each gives rise to the next. It is like moving in a circle—you never come to the end. Who can exhaust the possibilities of their combination? Well, actually, you need to be wary of moving in circles aimlessly. Many an unsuspecting ghoul has met an untimely end by means of endless wandering in circles. If you pass the same Zombie twice in an hour, consider changing direction.

T
he onset of the Horde is like the rush of a torrent which will even roll stones along in its course. Speaking of rolling stones, if you come across the one known as Keith Richards (one of Us), give him a wide berth. He’s unpredictable, given to toppling over, and may take you down with him.

For the Undead, the quality of decision is not so much like the swooping of the falcon, but more unto the circling of the vulture. Both are terrible to behold, but odds favor the vulture.

Energy may be likened to the bending of a crossbow—
when carrying this out, go easy on your decaying joints—
that is held in check until the decision is made to let the arrow fly.
This equates to scoring a direct hit on one of the Mortals. One down, a few billion to go. Remember, odds favor the vulture.

Amid the turmoil and tumult of battle, there may be seeming disorder.
Who are we kidding? Organization is not our strong suit, but we can make this work in our favor! Amid confusion and chaos (your friends), your array may be without head or tail, yet prey will come to you. (Any Zombies out there with vestigial tails? Don’t be ashamed! Stand up and be counted! Madame Cadavre Exquis instructs us that many a ghoul with a forked posterior appendage has been mistaken by Humans for an evil deity. Take advantage of their natural superstition and behave as diabolically as you like.)

The Humans are contradictory and easy to fool.
They will see your number shambling in apparent disarray and gloat, “The Undead are unbelievably disorganized. It will be a cinch to pick them off.” Seize your advantage! Our numbers are growing. We are virtually indestructible. Let them see how “easy” it is to destroy us. Humans underestimate our abilities at their own peril. More power to us. Team Zombie!

Hiding order beneath the cloak of disorder is simply a question of subdivision. Humans can’t tell one of us from the next. “You’ve seen one shambling corpse, you’ve seen them all.” You’ve heard them say it. They pay less attention than you do, and are more easily confused than you might imagine.

Remember the baits we discussed in Chapter 1. To your arsenal, you may also add recently Undead and not yet too-decomposed female specimens that Human males might find attractive. This almost always works, and can be used over and over, until your decoy is no longer serviceable (then simply recruit another). Once she’s caught his eye (literally), the rest is history.

Don’t shun unorthodox tactics like the log roll, which is great for mowing down a line of Mortals, or feigning “real” death.
Lie very still. They’ll approach you if they think you’re really, truly dead. Their innate curiosity will work to your advantage.

Tenjōkudari
from
The Illustrated One
Hundred Demons from the Present and the Past

You hold their
fate in your gnarly,
outstretched hands

S
un-Tzumbie said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits the coming of the Enemy will be fresh for the fight; whoever is second in the field and must hasten to battle will arrive, well, past his “sell-by” date.
In other words, the early and still mostly intact Zombie gets the BRRRAAAIIINNNS. The late Zombie arrives after everyone has been eaten.

The clever combatant imposes his will on the Enemy, but does not allow the Enemy’s will to be imposed on him.
Crush and slush.

By holding out tempting “advantages” to all-too-weak Humans,
such as opportunities for anger mismanagement, pathetic heroics, and the deployment of weaponry, the Zombie can cause them to approach of their own accord. Or, by “scaring up” all the Hordes in Hordesville, the Zombie can make the Humans’ flesh crawl (away). The Zombie is in complete control.

Is the Enemy taking his ease at the local shopping center, trying on clothes and looking at watches?
No matter. The Undead will gather outside the glass doors to wait.

AND WAIT.

AND WAIT.

Is the Enemy supplied with food?
Fine. The Zombie will starve him out. Is the Enemy quietly encamped? The Zombie will barge right in and force him to move. Is the Enemy busy with a (get this) Zombie Walk or Zombie Prom? The Undead will crash the party! The Zombie, is, in brief, a pain in the neck. And arm. And leg. And everywhere else.

Zombies: Shamble to points which the Enemy must run to defend.
Shuffle off to Buffalo. Play in Peoria. Chew chew in Chattanooga. A Zombie army may lurch great distances without distress, if it moves through country where the Enemy is not. Such as Death Valley.

You can be sure of succeeding in your attacks if you only attack places which are undefended
—such as Waffle House, Tim Hortons, or the multiplex parking lot. Ensure the safety of your defense; hold only those positions that cannot be attacked. Go for the restroom stalls and vehicular backseats. Go for cardio-challenged Humans who may be easily overcome. Go for the mobile buffets—families in minivans and groups of ladies who would be lunch. The Zombie is skillful in (snack) attacks when opponents do not know what to defend; and in defense when opponents do not know what to attack.

Fortunately for us, Humans fail to pay attention to their own Zombie preparedness films: They must always discover anew their need to aim for our heads in order to stop us.

You may advance and be absolutely irresistible if you make for the Enemy’s weak points.
Let “shock” and “awe” be our watchwords along with “BRRRAAAIIINNNS!” You may retire and be safe from pursuit if your movements are more rapid than those of the Enemy. Yes, Zombies are evolving, lurching faster, even as we speak (and yes, some of us are communicating in almost-coherent utterings). You know, deep down, you are not in any way irresistible. In fact, you are entirely the opposite.

Momonji
, the old man who waits for you at every turn

If we wish to fight, the Human can be forced to an engagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart or a deep ditch.
All we need do is attack another place, perhaps one where he will be obliged to relieve himself. Like darkened rest stop men’s rooms, behind car doors or trees, or—as is often the case in these casual modern times—right out on the side of the road.

If we do not wish to fight, we can prevent the Enemy from engaging us.
All we need do is to throw something odd and unaccountable in his way. Like a gangrene-infected forearm. Related reading assignment:
A Farewell to Arms.