Fearless Zombie Hunters: Return To Frankenstein's Castle

[jack_babalon]

"Frankenstein's Castle"
The Old Croton Aqueduct Trail, Van Cortland Park
Yonkers-Bronx, NY

"Frankenstein's Castle" was the nick name given by my classmates to the abandoned water control tower that sat on the side of the Old Croton Aqueduct Trail. When I was only 13 this tower was the half way point between my parents house in Yonkers and Van Cortland Park over in the neighboring Bronx and served as the rallying point for the various dirt bike races that took place there. This was the place for teenage wastoids to lure their unsuspecting girlfriends out to partake in that great suburban mating ritual of Ozzy, Weed and heavy petting. This was where the crazy homeless guy had set up camp. This was one of many areas staked out by the camoflauged survivalists who ran their practice drills here on Croton Trail. It was the finishing line for the flocks of Reagan era joggers. It was also where the 'Satanists' would leave the corpses of dogs and cats haning in the trees above.

One piece of sixth grade folklore told that if you were to cut your finger open, and press it against the cool stone walls, that this act had basically meant that you had sold your soul to the devil forever.

But it was more than that to my friends and I. 'Frankenstein's Castle' was Cobra Commanders HQ, it was a medieval fortress to lay siege to, it was a demon gate to be shut down at all costs, it was the tower of Dr.Fate one day and the castle of Dr.Doom the next, it was a monster factory, a robot garage, a secret government launch pad and a time machine.

Today though it was more than that. Today it was the evacuation point for what remained of the human resistance. The zombie apocalypse happened quick, hordes of the living dead swarmed through the five boroughs with supernatural ease. Most of the civilian population of New York was now infected. The police force was decimated, what was left of the armed services was retreating and only a handful of survivors were left to make a desperate last stand against the undead.

There were only five members left in the military's special Z.A.P. (Zombie Army Patrol) Squad. It consisted of Tom, Dave, Peter, Jacinto and yours truly. A band of brothers forged over the fires of many a D&D campaign, a devoted love of Marvel Comics and our status as the lowest level on the social food chain that is Junior High.

Clearly the Human Resistance was well and truly fucked.

We began by arming ourselves. To the untrained eye it looked like we were just picking up various branches off the trail, but really we were merely loading up for bear. We had an assortment of m-16s, flame throwers, rocket launchers, pistols and because Snake-Eyes had one, everyone of us had to have an Uzi. We were also trained in the art of ninjitsu, which meant we all had katana's and nun-chucks (which looking back on it now doesn't seem like a practical weapon against the living dead). Our mission was to hold 'Frankenstein's Castle' for the next 45 minutes until we could get evaced out (this, coincidentally, happened to be when the Human Resistance had to be home for dinner). After a brief arguement on who was Squad leader, another arguement on whether small rocks could be used as hand grenades and another arguement on who had flatulated during such a sensitive moment in humanitys final stand against the living dead the first waves of the living dead came shambling down the trail.

Besides our intensive ninja training, each of us was an qualified marksman, able to make shots that would make Lee Harvey Oswald blush with shame. Each shot was a head shot and the miracle of our training meant that we never had to reload. But there was another wave moving in from behind us, staggering and moaning and easily numbering in the hundreds. Now we had to form a semi-circle around the Castle to keep them at bay. The undead were dropping dozens by the minute ... but there were hundreds of them out there and now there was a third wave coming down the slope of the hill by the trail.

"Time for the grenades" Tom shouted and we began lobbing explosives at our undead opponets with the quickness. Bodies flew in the air and it rained down animated limbs upon us. But still they pressed forward in a wave of cannibalistic annihilation.

"This is it!" I screamed "Time for hand to hand". Simultaneously the five us drew our swords and drew our circle in closer. Just then our helio arrived, in the form of Peter's wrist watch beeping.

"Shit... I gotta book or my Mom'll kill me." We all agreed that our parents curfew indeed was the greater threat. The helio hovered above us, firing it's twin mounted chain guns and laying down waves of napalm into the tide of living dead. We sliced, diced and chopped up the remaining zombies, then one by one made our way up the step ladder the helio dropped.

The Z.A.P. Squad had survived to battle the undead holocaust another day... and made it home by curfew too!

Comments

[daucus-carota.livejournal.com]

A rock wall covered in little purple flowers beside the drive that served as a fort, the oil barrel that was the best horse ever, the grape arbour that morphed into Batman's cave, the opened morning glories that became hats for fairies, the fallen tree that heard "walk the plank" more times than Blackbeard, mud pies... thanks for the reminder. You know, oddly, I still do this today. I don't believe I've lost that childhood ability to turn a mundane something into magick. What do you think?
xxx

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

I guess I still do to some extent. Most of it's been channeled into the writing. Though on MARTA I still quietly perform 'Zombie Evasive Manuevers' with the crowd. Y'know just in case...