Farmers vs zombies

Claires pov

It had been 3 days since we were aware of the outbreak. Everything happened so quickly as most of our small town was at the monthly markets. Everybody was enjoying a bright, warm Sunday morning laughing and catching up with friends. The markets were small mostly containing produce from the surrounding farms, cooking from the old women and a small stall containing wares from the only clothes shop in town.

My children and I were leaving with our arms full of oranges, jams, preserves and giant pretzels when a ragged, smelly hobo got violent. The homeless man was restrained by the public but not before biting and scratching everybody within arms reach. This man turned out to be a zombie which was confirmed when I went over to my work colleague Alex's house for a social cup of tea only to find her equally violent and smelly. It was such a shock that someone I had known as a kid could be gone in such a short amount of time. I knew from the moment I walked in, something was wrong and though her body was still functioning, she was gone forever.

So many friends had helped restrain that man only to meet the same fate. It is amazing how one zombie could bring a town to its knees with only one encounter, no wonder the world turned apocalyptic with no warning.

I went into stress mode seeing Alex like that and fled without a second thought. I had to know that my kids Annie and Martha were alright. Annie was my youngest at age 13 with light brown hair, short stature and was quite the animal enthusiast. Martha was aged 15 with almost blonde hair, mid height, skinny and the girliest girl in town. She hated the fact that the closest mall was 30km away and dressed to impress even within the company of family.

It was selfish to only think of them when my husband johnathon and his child Blake aged 13 were out woodcutting for the winter. Driving home gave me a chance to calm my nerves though I was travelling 20km over the speed limit. Another thought hit me like a tonne of bricks as I remembered that yesterday jo' s (johnathons) two eldest Becky and Emma embarked on a hunting trip and were clueless of what was going on. They could already know or they could be dead.

Home came into view and relief flooded through me as I saw the ute with its long trailer and three large metal crates sitting atop being unpacked by Jo and the kids. Everything was normal and no urgency was shown in the movements of filling the wood bins. They knew something was wrong when they saw my face. How does one say the world has ended without sounding crazy or like its a joke?

It can't be true. It shouldn't be true. It was just a scary story made up for Halloween and storybooks and games and yet here I was telling everyone that the world has ended and monsters are to blame. Martha and Annie were with me at the markets and accepted the truth well and Jo was persuaded when I recounted the days events. Everyone was shocked and resumed the day within the safety of the house with shocked, depressed and thoughtful expressions. Nobody uttered a word as we grappled the monsters of our mind.

No news reached us on the radio and the TV remained static so it was impossible to know what was happening with the rest of the world. Were it not for the solar panels and rainwater tanks we would not have water or electricity. Days passed without any sign of beck or Emma as tension grew and hope shrunk. Half our firearm stock was with them and so was the other ute, fuel, the generator and many other needed tools. Jo was anxious and couldn't care less about the gear, he just waned to know they were safe.

Day 4 of the apocalypse came and I knew if we didn't do anything, we were as good as dead. Nobody was keeping guard over the house, no defences were installed, rations were non existent and we had no plan for the future. The need for a plan was on every bodies mind and the person to break the silence was surprisingly Annie, the youngest of the lot. Afternoon was upon us when a meeting was called in the office.

The office was a small, cramped room with a large stained wood desk, 4 chairs and a floor to ceiling bookshelf which covered a whole wall. The amusing thing was that the bookshelf was half filled with books and the other half contained our wine. Jo dragged the big whiteboard out from behind the desk then retrieved the markers and eraser from a draw. The board still had an equipment list written up from beck and Emma's trip.

Jo started by drawing a map of our 600 acre farm. Most farmers would call this small as technically it is considered a hobby farm because it is under 1000 acres. All paddocks are shown and the shed yard and house yard are drawn. This is as far as Jo gets before we hear the creep of tyres and subtle screech of brakes outside. Nobody is game enough to part the curtains and check who it is. Blake is the first to think rationally and retrieves two handguns from our safe in the wall which is hidden behind a map of the world. One is passed to Jo and one is passed to me which I then load.

Loud squeaks can be heard from the front door followed by creaking leading into the hall, kitchen, lounge room and starts moving towards the bedrooms when the worst happens. Blake farts a loud, explosive fart and suddenly the squeaks stop and start walking towards the office. Our handguns are at the ready and are pointed at head height. Martha and I exchange hand signals, then she wrenches the door open. The two people we never expected to see again appear with white, sweaty faces and guns at the ready. Jo, at that moment has been transformed from depressed and gloomy into the happiest man ever. His girls are back, safe and unhurt.

Hugs is the light way of putting the next five minutes, I would call it bone crushing, rib breaking and suffocating arms squeezed tightly from your chest all the way around to your back. They could give lighter cuddles but who cares, their safe.