1968 A.D., EASTERN LAOS
This story was related by Peter Stavros, a substance-abuse patient and former Special Forces sniper. In 1989, while under psychological evaluation at a V.A. hospital in Los Angeles, he related this story to the attending psychiatrist. Stavros stated that his team was on a routine search-and-destroy mission along the Vietnamese border. Their intended target was a village suspected of being a staging area of the Pathet Lao (Communist guerrillas). Upon entering the village, they discovered the inhabitants were in the midst of their own siege against several dozen walking dead. For unknown reasons, the team leader ordered his team to withdraw, then called in an air strike. Sky raiders armed with napalm plastered the area, destroying both the living dead and the human survivors. No documented evidence exists to corroborate Stavros’ story. The other members of his team are either dead, missing in action, missing within the United States, or simply declined to be interviewed.
1971 A.D., NONG’ONA VALLEY, RWANDA
Jane Massey, wildlife journalist for The Living Earth, was sent by her magazine to document the lives of endangered silverback gorillas. This excerpt ran as a small anecdote among the larger and more popular story of rare and exotic primates:
As we passed a steep valley, I saw the movement of something in the foliage below. Our guide saw it too and encouraged us to pick up the pace. At that moment I heard something pretty rare for that part of the world: complete silence. No birds, no animals, not even insects, and we’re talking some pretty loud insects. I asked Kengeri, and he just told me to keep it down. From down in the valley, I could hear this creepy moan. Kevin [the expedition’s photographer] turned even whiter than usual and kept saying it must be the wind. Now, I’ve heard wind in Sarawak, Sri Lanka, the Amazon, and even Nepal, and that was NOT the wind! Kengeri put a hand on his machete and encouraged us to shut up. I told him I wanted to go down into the valley to check it out. He refused. When I pushed, he said, “The dead walk there” and took off.
Massey never explored the valley or discovered the source of the moan. The guide’s story could have been local superstition. The moan could have simply been the wind. However, maps of the valley reveal it to be surrounded by sheer cliffs in all directions, making it impossible for ghouls to escape. Theoretically, this valley could serve as a receptacle for tribes wishing to trap but not destroy the walking dead.
Information concerning this outbreak comes from a variety of sources: eyewitness interviews of the town’s inhabitants, nine depositions from low-ranking Egyptian military personnel, and the accounts of Gassim Farouk (a former Egyptian Air Force intelligence officer who recently emigrated to the United States), and several international journalists who have requested that their identities be kept secret. All these sources corroborate the story that an outbreak of unknown origin attacked and overran this small Egyptian village. Calls for help went unanswered, both from police from other towns and the base commander of Egypt’s Second Armored Division at Gabal Garib only thirty-five miles away. In a bizarre twist of fate, the telephone operator at Gabal Garib was also an Israeli Mossad agent who passed the information along to IDF headquarters in Tel Aviv. The information was discounted as a hoax by both the Mossad and the Israeli General Staff and would have been forgotten had it not been for Colonel Jacob Korsunsky, an aide to Prime Minister Golda Meir. An American Jew and former colleague of the late David Shore, Korsunsky was well aware of the existence of zombies and what threat they posed if left unchecked. Amazingly, Korsunsky convinced Meir to assemble a reconnaissance mission to investigate Al-Marq. By now the infestation was in its fourteenth day. Nine survivors had barricaded themselves in the town mosque with little water and no food. A platoon of paratroopers, led by Korsunsky, dropped into the center of Al-Marq and, after a twelve-hour battle, eliminated all zombies. Wild speculation surrounds the ending of this story. Some believe that the Egyptian Army surrounded Al-Marq, captured the Israelis, and prepared to execute them on the spot. Only after pleading from the survivors, who showed the soldiers the zombie corpses, did the Egyptians allow the Israelis safe passage home. Others take this possibility further, believing it to be one of the reasons for the Egyptian-Israeli dйtente. No hard evidence exists to substantiate this story. Korsunsky died in 1991. His memoirs, personal accounts, army communiquйs, subsequent newspaper articles, and even film of the battle purportedly shot by a Mossad cameraman, have been sealed by the Israeli government. If the story is true, it does present one interesting and possibly disturbing question. Why would the Egyptian Army be convinced of the living dead’s existence simply by eyewitness accounts and seemingly human corpses? Would not an intact, still-functioning specimen (or specimens) have to exist to prove such an incredible story? If so, where are those specimens now?
1979 A.D., SPERRY, ALABAMA
While on his daily rounds, Chuck Bernard, the local postal delivery man, stopped at the Henrichs farm to find that the previous day’s mail had not been collected. As this had never happened before, Bernard decided to carry the mail himself up to the house. Fifty feet from the front door, he heard what sounded like gunshots, cries of pain, and calls for help. Bernard fled the scene, drove ten miles to the nearest pay phone, and called the police. When two sheriff’s deputies and a paramedic team arrived, they found the Henrichs family brutally slaughtered. The only survivor, Freda Henrichs, was obviously experiencing the symptoms of advanced infection. She bit both paramedics before the deputies could restrain her. A third deputy, last to arrive and new to the force, panicked and shot her in the head. The two bitten men were brought to the county hospital for treatment and died soon afterward. Three hours later, they rose during their autopsy, attacked the coroner and his assistant, and moved out to the street. By midnight the entire town was in a panic. At least twenty-two zombies were now at large and had completely devoured fifteen people. Many survivors sought refuge in their homes. Others tried to flee the city. Three schoolchildren managed to climb to the top of a water tower. Although surrounded (several ghouls tried to scale the tower but were kicked back to the ground), these children remained safe until they were rescued. One man, Harland Lee, left his home armed with a modified Uzi submachine gun, a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun, and two.44 magnum pistols (one a revolver, the other an automatic). Witnesses reported seeing Lee attack a group of twelve zombies, firing first his Uzi then the other weapons in turn. Each time, Lee aimed for the zombie’s torso, causing extreme damage but no kills. Low on ammo, and backed against a mass of wrecked cars, Lee attempted head shots with a pistol in each hand. Because his hands were shaking too violently, Lee produced no hits whatsoever. The self-appointed town savior was quickly devoured. By morning, deputies from neighboring towns, along with state police and hastily assembled vigilante groups, had converged on Sperry. Armed with sighted hunting rifles and new knowledge of the fatal head shot (a local hunter had learned this defending his home), they quickly dispatched the threat. The official explanation (provided by the Department of Agriculture) was “mass hysteria from pesticide release in local water table.” All bodies were removed by the Centers for Disease Control before civilian autopsies could be performed. The majority of radio recordings, news footage, and private photographs was immediately confiscated. One hundred and seventy-five lawsuits were filed by various survivors. Ninety-two of these cases have been settled out of court, forty-eight are still pending, and the remainder have been mysteriously dropped. One lawsuit was recently filed for access to the confiscated media footage. A court decision is said to be years away.