Ash Williams

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Have you ever been to a party where you don’t know anyone?  That is exactly what it was like when we finally got to where we were going.  It ended up being a tiny cabin down a short, dirt private road.  Obviously it was a hunting camp, or something.  The inhabitants were – interesting?  Or special, if you want to go with that, but not in a good way.  Three teenage guys and a twentysomething girl, all of which seemed to view the recent zombie invasion as a good excuse to party.  There was whiskey, beer, and weed; all the makings of a good party, but for some reason I just wasn’t in the mood.  My host, who unfortunately turned out to be dumb as a brick, was gracious, introducing me to “everyone”, and then offering to get me a drink.  I took one, so as not to seem ungracious, and then I tried to fade into the background.  This didn’t work like I hoped – it was a pretty small party, and the guy to girl ratio was not in my favor. 

Right away I could see that even though I had gotten myself into a group, I was pretty much on my own.  These kids were mostly wasted, and seemingly oblivious to the lurking danger of zombies.  I felt like I had ended up in the creepy cabin from Evil Dead, but I was the only one who knew where we were.  And Bruce Campbell was nowhere in sight.

 My hero, who’s name was Matt, in spite of his recent witnessing of the zombie threat, did not find it prudent to warn his peers, or even to regal them with the story.  He just grabbed a beer, and the bong, and headed for the radio to “find some better tunes”.  I stood by a window, scanning the woods for zombies, and pretended to sip my beer, while silently bemoaning the situation that I had gotten myself into.  These guys were not going to afford much protection, in fact I was pretty sure they were a liability. 

I was trying to comfort myself by nonchalantly scanning the room for potential weapons when my good time was interrupted by one of the guys, who had decided to try his luck talking me up at this Party of the Damned.  Let me give you a little perspective here – at the time I was 28 years old, I had been to college, done the party scene, and was pretty much on my way out.  I’ll admit that I didn’t look my age, but that is as generous as I can be.  So that when this boy approached me ( he couldn’t have been older than 18) I will admit that for a brief moment I was flattered.  I couldn’t revel in the moment though, what with my underlying terror, and dread, but it kind of felt good.  Still I was also not unaware of how kind of silly the whole scenario was, and so I’m sure that my reaction to  his opening remarks was some weird mix of amusement, strange highschool awkwardness,and college-girl disinterest/superiority, all with a hint of paranoia and barely concealed panic.  I can’t imagine what that would have looked like, but I am still a bit shocked that our conversation lasted as long as it did.

“Hey, how’s it going?  I’m Nick.”

“I’m Alex.”

“Nice.  So what brings you to The Cabin?”

“Well, Matt brought me.  But mostly I’m here because of the zombies.”

“Yeah, that shit is like, totally mind blowing right?”

“Yeah, totally.  Um, have you seen any?”

“Naw, just been listening to it on the radio.  I guess it’s bad news.  But we figure we should be cool here, I mean, what dead guy is going to walk way the fuck out here, right?”

“A hungry one, I imagine.  So do you guys have any, like guns, or baseball bats, or anything?”

“You’ll have to ask Stan, it’s his Dad’s place.” 

“Awesome.  Can you take me to Stan?”

“He’s that little shit right there,” he said, pointing to a slight, sketchy little guy standing about 5 feet away.

“Awesome, thanks Nick.”  I walked over to Stan, and on the way I decided that I was doing alright, and that if I just played things cool, I might just be able to control this situation.

“Stan, dude, great party.  I’m Alex,” I said, as I shook his hand, making sure to let the contact linger a bit longer than necessary.  “Could you maybe show me around the cabin?  I’m feeling a little out of my element, you know?”

And just like that I was on the guided tour of this shitty little three room cabin.  Stan was eager to play host, and the more I smiled and made eye-contact the more detailed the tour became.  I knew it was a little wrong to manipulate a highschool boy like that, but at the same time, I knew that eventually this party would be over, and I needed to be ready for that. 

“Hey Stan, you know what I am like, really into?  Weapons.”

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