Challenge #01928-E104: Tag, You're Undead!
The homo genus utilized the persistence hunt as one of its primitive hunting strategies. The homo genus, including homo sapiens, is remarkably well suited for this. We are relatively hairless for mammals (it's actually just much thinner than most mammals' hair), bipedal, sweat over-actively, and our legs (from the soles of the feet to the connection at the hip joint) are very well suited to distance running.
With that said ... I just learned that a few Kenyan villagers ran down a cheetah that was hunting their herd of goats in the midday African heat. A human -- remarkably slow sprinters -- literally ran down the fastest existing land animal over a long distance. The tortoise always wins. (They gave the cheetahs to the wildlife authorities, so no fatalities other than goats.) -- Nonny
Bigass Park, said the signs outside of the entrances to it. Closed for Deathworlder demonstration. For further information, visit... and then there was a reference link to a free information feed. Inside was an education and an experiment at the same time.
"Zombie Tag," said Shayde. "That's the name of the game. Those wearin' the brown headbands are observers only. Must'nae be touched. Those wearin' red headbands," she put one on, "are th' zombies. Everyone else is fair game. Med stations are out of bounds unless ye need one. Ye can run and hide anywhere ye like, use th' vendomats, rest where ye can. But keep in mind, th' zombies can only go after ye at a slow lurch."
The doubters, all 'prey' laughed as one of the volunteer humans demonstrated a lurch. They had no idea what they were in for. They all thought that humans were soft and unworthy of their title of 'Deathworlders'. Especially after five centuries of relative sedentary living. Indeed, some of the zombie volunteers were the doughy, well-upholstered desk set. One used a mobility aid. In less than five hours, all of those doubters would be believers.
"Once yer tagged by a zombie, you can either choose tae 'die'," Shayde used air quotes, "and watch from th' spectator gallery, or become a zombie and join the chase. We have spare headbands."
Floating cam drones filled the arena that was Bigass Park. The event was being livecast and recorded for later editing and posterity. Those in the know were already hiding their giggles from those who chose ignorance.
"Ye got five minutes." Shayde blew a whistle. The doubters took off at a mad run.
Hour one:
Pandemonium. Doubters clearly in the lead. Easy laughter and joking as they take full advantage of the park's facilities. Some doubters already flagging, choosing strategic places of rest. High branches. Areas of difficult access. It's still all a joke for them.
Hour two:
The first 'casualties' are taken. Zombies are not required to announce their presence and, owing to their slow pace, are relatively quiet. Two 'casualties' are taken to Med stations for treatment. The 'uninfected' begin choosing rest stops that promise fortification. Cries of outrage begin when the 'uninfected' realise that the zombies can climb.
All humans in the game join the side of the zombies when they are tagged.
Hour three:
Panic sets in. Doubters oscillate between panicked flight from zombies, and attempts to hide from zombies. All joviality has vanished. Many doubters are overwhelmed by the choice between potential injury and definite attack. Others are overwhelmed by multiple zombies.
All humans have joined the zombie side. The zombies are laughing now. Their laughter is not nice.
Hour four:
ABJECT TERROR. All but the Deathworlders in the Doubter side have retired, some choosing to 'die of fright' by bowing out in a Med station. The Deathworlder 'uninfected' are wearing down. Their strength means nothing. Their stamina means nothing. They have few avenues to rest. They have few chances to recoup, regroup, or refresh themselves.
Screams begin to sound out around the arena as the zombies pick off the doubters, one by one.
Some Deathworlders decide to be zombies. They are now having unbelievable amounts of fun.
Game ended at hour five, forty-seven minutes in. Even the Class Five Deathworlders believe that the Humans are space orcs. Shayde opens a volunteer list for the next round of Zombie Tag, especially for the armchair warriors who think they can win on the 'uninfected' side.
The waiting list to play 'zombies' is unbelievably large.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / tobkatrina]
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