Zombie Bites: Standing Tall

My name is Buddy Lumpkin and I was up in a Tower Crane by the new baseball stadium when it all went down.  With a corporate headquarters to build, there was no slack in the schedule.  I got to the job site at 6 a.m., made my long climb, put my lunch in the mini-fridge, and looked down to see that we had a whole line of trucks to unload.  It was going to be girders all day.

After a sausage biscuit and a bit of coffee, my bellman, Jeff, finished jawing with the super and got on the horn.  I like working with him because he's got a good eye and he's real good on the radio.  

Pretty soon we were getting it done.  All morning long I was hearing: 

"Left, left, left, 15 feet, 10 feet, 5 feet, hold."
"Trolley out. Trolley out. 10, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, hold."
"Load on.  Hoist!"
"Right, right, right, 20, 15, 10, 5, hold."
"Lower, lower, lower, 10, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, hold."
 
Then, just before lunch, Jeff starts hollering into the radio.
"Holy crap!  Holy crap!  Holy crap!"

I just about crapped my pants.  I had a load of girders on and thought I'd dropped something.  

"What the hell is going on?" I hollered right back.
"Zombies!" came the reply.  "They are eating us!"
"I thought the news proved that zombies were B.S.?"
"Looks like they were wrong, Buddy."

I grabbed my binoculars and, sure enough, there were swarms of monstrous looking people surging onto the construction and just laying into people.  They were just tearing people up and eating them alive.  People running.  Then some of the workers grabbed pipes and heavy tools and started fighting back.  A thin line of orange vests took form and stood toe-to-toe with the horde.

Jeff came back on the radio.
"Hoist that load," he commanded.  "Up 15.  Trolley out."
"What's going on down there?" I asked.
"5, 4, 3, 2, 1.  Hold," Jeff responded.  "We're going to flatten the dead."
"I got ya,"  I told him.
"Swing left, left, 10, 5, 1, hold."
I tried to see what was happening with the binoculars, but there was no time.
"Put the load down hard,"  Jeff ordered.
"Hammer time!"
"We got 'em!"  Jeff replied, "Now hoist 3 feet!"
"Alright," I said.  "What's the plan?"
"Let's smack 'em around," Jeff replied.  "Swing right just a little, 10, 5, 3 ..."
"Did we get them?" I asked.
"A whole bunch," he said.  "Now we got to go the other way."
"Say the word."
"Now right quick," he said.  "Swing left 20, 5, 4, 3 ... that's good!"

Photo by High Contrast / CC BY 3.0 DE (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/de/deed.en)

Up in my cab, a whole bunch of red lights came alive on my dashboard.  The load of girders was swinging like a pendulum and was straining the jib--that's what you might think of as the boom.

"We're gonna have to slow down brother," I radioed down.  "The computer ain't too happy with our batting practice."
 "Well, we don't have much time," Jeff replied urgently. "There's another big mob of them coming through the gate."
"You guys are going to have to pull back," I told him.


 I tried to slowly move the joystick to slew the jib.  I hit the button to hoist the load.  But, the computer wasn't having it.  I could re-boot, but that might take a couple of minutes.  There was only one thing to do.  Take a deep breath and give it a little time to calm down.

"One Mississippi.  Two Mississippi,"  I said to myself grabbing the binoculars.

At three Mississipi, I saw one of the Mexican concrete guys  brandishing a long pipe in an effort to fend off three of the zombies.  The dead didn't care.  By the fifth Mississippi, he was down and being disemboweled.

I looked down again and I saw the Super with his megaphone.  I don't know what he was saying, but all the workers started running into the building.  The Super ran right behind them.  He moved pretty fast for an old guy in khakis and a collared denim shirt.

By the time I counted to the fifteenth Mississippi, I couldn't see anyone below.  The joystick was beginning to respond again.

"Jeff!  Jeff," I called out.  "Are you still down there?"

Sixteen Mississippi.  Seventeen Mississippi.

"Hey Buddy," the breathless bellman finally responded.  "I'm about fifty feet up on your ladder."

"Good,"  I told him. "I've got slew control again."

 "Well alright," he says.  "Let's get to work smashing zombies."

We survived that day and so did most of the workers on the job site.  As soon as the coast was clear, we all headed for our vehicles and headed home.  I remember picking my way through flattened and mangled zombies.  Some of them were still jawing and rasping.  Most of them were just pulp.  I remember walking by the pile of steel girders we left in the entrance.  The blood was just dripping off of them.  It made a big red puddle.

I hope Jeff made it home.  I'd like to work with him again when we start rebuilding this world.