While visiting family in Devon earlier this year, I did a little browsing in Taunton, and the the title of one of the books on display in a charity shop caught my eye. Upon closer examination, Max Brallier’s Can YOU Survive the Zombie Apocalypse? proved to be a gamebook, as I’d hoped, rather than a parody emergency survival handbook or a scam aimed at people driven paranoid by watching too many episodes of The Walking Dead and spin-offs or George Romero movies, or reading Ian Livingstone’s worst Fighting Fantasy gamebook. Consequently, I bought it, and in view of the theme and the fact that October wasn’t that far off, I’ve been holding off on playing it until now.
The book’s introduction indicates
that my character is an American in his mid-twenties, living in Manhattan and
stuck in an unrewarding corporate job. It also reveals that this book is more
‘adult’ than most gamebooks by using a couple of naughty words.
At the start of the adventure my
character is in a meeting at work, and by the end of the third paragraph I
already dislike the lazy whinger. Character growth had better kick in quickly
when the crisis starts, or this self-centred slacker will have no chance of
survival.
Angela, the receptionist,
interrupts the meeting to say we need to turn the TV on at once, doing so
herself when nobody heeds her advice. Not being a regular viewer of American
news broadcasts, I don’t know if it’s plausible that preliminary waffle
concerning a sudden emergency would go on for as long as it must have, but the
live feed hasn’t yet started by the time Angela gets the set working.
Initially the coverage treats the incident as a riot in a hospital not that far from the office, but once pale-skinned patients erupt from the building and begin attacking and frenziedly devouring bystanders, it becomes clear that this is a standard zombie outbreak (three words that really shouldn't go together anywhere near as well as they do).
Colleagues panic, and for a while I’m too stunned to do
anything. Once I’ve pulled myself together, I go online to find out more about
the situation. The news site I choose is displaying a red siren (I know the auditory aspect of a siren is traditionally of greater significance than its colour, but that’s
what the text says) and some sort of headline (which the text doesn’t say, though there’s a big gap on
the page where it should be) above a list of trending topics which make it clear that serious badness is afoot not far from here.
Concluding that I need to get
away from Manhattan, I join my fleeing co-workers, running down fourteen
flights of stairs once it becomes apparent that I’m not going to find space in
an elevator any time soon. Eventually I get out onto the street, and face my
first decision of the adventure – what to do next.
Taxis are probably not going to
be stopping for people, and if the subway is anywhere near as crowded as the
building I just left, heading down there will be just asking for trouble.
Heading home, the only other option presented, doesn’t look that great a course
of action either, but at least it’ll give me an opportunity to gather together
whatever potentially useful belongings I can carry before I get out of town.
Or, my character not being the
sharpest spatula in the drawer, I could wind up concluding that going back to
my apartment means adopting a siege mentality, stocking up on ‘essentials’ (inverted
commas because the staples my character buys include more beer than the real me would consume in a year)
in a convenient store before locking myself in and hoping that nobody comes
knocking at my door asking to borrow a cup of braaaains.
I’m just locking the door when
the phone rings, and caller ID indicates that my mother is on the line.
And I’m guessing that my character doesn’t get on too well with the rest of the
family, given that I’m now offered the choice between taking the call or
ignoring it in favour of a heavy boozing session.
Hoping that it won’t lead to my
having to bludgeon a zombified stepfather to death, I answer the phone. As I anticipated,
this is one unhealthy relationship (though it sounds as if both parents are
still alive and together and living near Boston), my mother’s concerns about my
being close to ground zero of the zombie outbreak being disregarded as
‘momtalk’. It turns out that I have an aunt on Staten Island, but despite the
obvious greater defensibility of an island compared to the very city in which the living dead are currently rampaging, I
refuse to take the ferry over there until offered a hefty cash bribe. Odds are
that if my character ends up dying owing to a bad decision, it will be an authorially
imposed one rather than an error on my part.
The ‘essentials’ I pack for the
journey are even worse than the ones I got from the bodega. Well, the clothes
are going to be necessary, but prioritising a gaming console and top-shelf
periodicals over anything that might help with survival in apocalyptic and
post-apocalyptic conditions is just asking for trouble.
On the way to the Ferry Station I
see signs of the more human side of the current trouble - gridlocked streets,
rioting mobs, looters - but shortly after I reach my initial destination the
paranormal element kicks in. One of the ferries has stopped moving, and for the
first time my character shows signs of intelligence, using a set of
coin-operated binoculars to get a better look at the unmoving vessel. A fight
has broken out on board, and soon people start jumping off and swimming to
shore. At least some of the swimmers are zombies, so I guess the island isn’t
going to be as secure as mom hoped.
I run away, seeking refuge in a
warehouse. Mention is made of a painting of a smiling cow on the gate, and a
quick search online suggests that it relates to a local sporting mascot (and
pulls up a few probably AI-generated pictures that may haunt my nightmares).
Inside the warehouse I find a
large crowd of zombie cosplayers. That’s people cosplaying as zombies, rather
than cosplayers who have become zombies (though there are plenty of those on another path through the book) or unconventional zombies who like to
dress up as fictional characters when not massacring the living and feasting on
their corpses. This group had been getting ready for a march (well, a
large-scale public shamble) to raise awareness of the zombie issue, but recent
developments have publicised the matter rather more effectively than any parade
by this shabby bunch could have done.
It appears that the cosplayers aren’t actually any better informed about what’s going on than I am. All their reference points are movie-based, and while popular culture does sometimes influence scientific discourse, there would still be some terminology and allusions from (in-universe) non-fictional sources if this lot had any real information on zombie outbreaks and associated cover-ups. They’re just horror nerds who mistook 28 Whatevers Later for a documentary and accidentally wound up believing in something real.
Following some discussion and
arguing (mainly relating to the possibility of fooling the zombies by
pretending to be like them, though there is also some bickering about the
relative merits of Manhattan and Brooklyn because petty rivalry between
boroughs is so much more important
than the ongoing crisis), I do a little exploring in the warehouse and find a
walk-in freezer containing sides of beef (and possibly my character from the
gamebook I played for the blog this time last year). Seizing the initiative, I
get some of the cosplayers to help bring out one of the frozen half-carcasses,
and we spend the next few days waiting for it to thaw, strategising, and not
getting to know each other (seriously – I’ve been with these guys almost half a
week and still haven’t even learned their names).
Despite the risk of swimming
zombies, the decision has been made to relocate to Liberty Island, so once the
meat has softened enough that we can smear ourselves with bovine innards, we do
so in preparation for a brief shamble to the water’s edge, to be followed by a
rapid swim. Should be fine, as long as:
1) the zombies don’t detect our imposture and slaughter us as soon as we hit
the streets.
2) the island hasn’t already been overrun by the living dead.
3) any humans already on the island don’t mistake us from zombies and provide a
lethal welcoming committee.
But what’s the alternative? Continue to hide out in the warehouse and hope for
the authorities to save the day? I can’t see that ending well, while there is a
slim possibility that making for the island could work out for the better.
Initially things go all right.
The zombies on the street don’t seem to notice that we’re still alive, and
nobody panics and breaks character when a few of them lurch into our midst.
However, one of them blunders into me and knocks me over, and as I haven’t
studied zombie behaviour in any depth, I have no idea how a fallen one gets
back up, and could give the game away if I move in the wrong manner. Still, I
can’t just lie there, so I endeavour to rise in a manner that shouldn’t attract
unwelcome attention.
A few zombies draw near.
Remembering that one of the cosplayers had mentioned the zombies’ ability to
move rapidly given the right stimulus, I figure that trying to run will doom
me, so I do my best to keep up the performance, hoping that this isn’t a
‘doomed whatever you choose’ decision.
Keeping my head enables me to
also retain my limbs and viscera. The shuffle to the harbour resumes, and we’re
within sight of the water when one of the cosplayers loses his nerve and starts
running. This agitates the zombie horde, prompting the rest of us to make a
dash for the relative safety of the bay.
Most of the group don’t make it.
I’m one of the two who do manage to swim away, as well as being the one who
doesn’t get a bullet through the head just after reaching the island. It turns
out that a boatload of US Marines got there on day one, but found the place
already occupied by zombies, and only two members of the unit survived the
ensuing battle. Hammer, the trooper who shot my companion, has severe PTSD,
which explains why he’s so trigger-happy. And also why he’s mounted a severed
zombie head atop every fence post on the island. His more stable superior
officer, Hauk, explains what happened, including the fact that their boat went
down during the hostilities, taking all their communications devices with it.
I tell him what little I know of
the state of things on the mainland, and my mention of having seen some
abandoned army vehicles piques his interest, as they should still have
functioning radios. While trying to scope out the relevant area with
binoculars, Hauk sees indications that I have drawn unwelcome attention to the
island. At the point where my doomed associate and I leapt into the water,
zombie after zombie is lurching over the edge, and while they’re sinking rather
than swimming, a message that came in shortly before the loss of the boat
indicated that zombies have reached other islands by walking across the sea
bed, so it’s probably only a matter of time before we have company.
Hauk and Hammer have a couple
of one-man submersible vehicles called Hellfires, so Hauk decides to send
Hammer below on a recon mission, and I volunteer to accompany him as I feel
responsible for having provoked the impending invasion. A decision-free
redirection to another part of the book follows, but that may well be this path
through the book linking up with another - the back cover claims that the book has
twice as many paths as endings, so different routes must converge at times for
that to be possible.
Suitably decked out in wetsuit
and breathing gear, I take control of one of the Hellfires and follow Hammer
out across the water, not diving until he does. It doesn’t take us long to
sight the hundreds of zombies plodding through the water. Approaching them more
closely than is advisable, Hammer gets into a fracas with a few of the zombies,
and while he does get away (aided by my use of the harpoon gun mounted on my
Hellfire), one of the zombies wounds him. A scratch rather than a bite, he
claims once we’re back on the island, and his threats are enough to keep me
from doing the sensible thing and telling Hauk when we rejoin him.
Hauk decides to try and get to
one of the abandoned vehicles and radio in, and sends Hammer and me up the
Statue of Liberty so Hammer can provide armed cover and I can keep a look out
for zombies. During the ascent I observe that Hammer is in better condition
than I am (bar the possibility that a zombie has infected him), and when we
reach the statue's crown, he assembles a sniper rifle and starts bragging about his
display of severed zombie heads and his killing of the cosplayer.
I observe the blood soaking
through his sock from the injury he sustained in the water, and get presented
with a choice between two sub-optimal courses of action. Do I attack the mentally
unstable trained killer with the gun who is fitter than I and seems to be
trying to provoke me into attacking so he can blow me away and claim
self-defence, or do I utterly disregard the possibility that at any moment he
could transform into an even more savage automaton consumed by the desire to eviscerate
me, and focus my attention on what’s happening in Hauk’s vicinity?
Right now the hints that I’m
outclassed and Hammer retains enough military discipline to require an excuse
to attack me outweigh the suspicion that he might be undergoing zombification.
I do as directed by Hauk. He’s in the water, approaching Battery Park, and the
animated corpse of one of the cosplayers is shambling around close by. Hauk
submerges, and it’s a little while before I catch sight of him again, but he
makes it onto dry ground. I catch sight of a couple of zombies, formerly Goths,
heading his way, and tell Hammer to target them.
No response. Again I try and draw
his attention to them, and after another reminder elicits no reaction, I
finally turn my attention away from what’s happening at ground level.
The zombie formerly known as
Hammer lunges at me. Luckily for me, he’s too unreasoning to have any awareness
of the sidearm dangling from his belt, and as he starts to throttle me I grab
the pistol, angle it upwards and in his direction, and fire. The shot does no
more than send him stumbling back, but that gives me time to get a proper aim,
and empty the gun into his torso, the force of the fire knocking him out of the
crown. Hammer falls.
After taking a couple of seconds
to regather my wits, I remember Hauk’s situation, and hurry over to the sniper
rifle. My first shot is off target, and only shatters a window on a nearby SUV,
but the noise gets Hauk’s attention, alerting him to the approaching zombies.
Correcting my aim, I take out one of them, while Hauk eliminates the other with his handgun.
More zombies converge on him. He
makes a dash for an overturned Humvee, and I do what I can to thin the ranks of zombies
closing on him. Not every shot is a hit, but I do manage to down several of the
enemy before recognising that there are too many for this to be a workable
strategy long-term. Catching sight of a nearby motorbike, I try to shoot its fuel tank,
succeeding with my second shot. The resultant explosion downs the horde, at
least for long enough to allow Hauk to do what he can in the Humvee.
Not many zombies come between him
and the water’s edge, but it’s still one more than he has bullets for. I take
care of the final obstacle for him, and he’s soon heading back across the water
on a Hellfire while I hurry back down to ground level.
When Hauk asks after Hammer, I
explain what happened, and would show him the body, only it’s not where it
landed. That’s not good. Nor, on aggregate, is Hauk’s news regarding his
attempts to radio for help. On the positive side, he was able to contact
someone. However, it was only a civilian. Still, the man in question used to
run a business taking tourists around in helicopters, so he has the resources
to rescue us. But he didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to do so.
In other news, the vanguard of
the underwater zombies is coming ashore. We head back to the statue, and
naturally Hammer is waiting for us, his body showing signs of blunt force
trauma consistent with a fall from a long way up, but still functional enough to
pose a threat. Good thing Hauk reloaded his gun after I cleared the way for his
return to the island. Hammer down.
Time to go back up the statue.
This time we head for the torch, pursued by hundreds of zombies. While neither
Hauk nor I have much of a head for heights, the undead mob at our heels leaves
us little choice, and we go out, sliding down the statue’s forearm and finding
a kind of refuge on the biceps. Some zombies attempt to follow, but lack the
coordination to make a suitably controlled descent, and fall off.
And this route through the book ends on, if not a cliffhanger, at least a statue-sitter, as Hauk and I now have nothing to do but wait to see if a helicopter will come our way, perhaps making awkward small talk about our recently deceased associates to help pass the time.
Perhaps the oddest thing about the book is the way it handles real-world figures: a sporting celebrity who features prominently on one path is consistently referred to as ‘[LEGAL EDIT]’, presumably in case 2011's 'leading shortstop for the New York Yankees' (a description which I'd imagine identifies him almost as clearly as the repeatedly redacted name) felt like suing over the suggestion that he’s romantically involved with a stripper who can massacre zombies with ease. Meanwhile, on another path the outbreak turns out to have been orchestrated by a certain famous movie-maker, who is portrayed as a deranged genocidal misanthrope, and is repeatedly named in the text even though he was alive and doubtless capable of taking legal action when the book came out.
So far I’ve encountered very little convergence of different paths. There’s been one blip, where a choice of three improvised weapons to use against a zombie had two ‘that does the job’ outcomes that both led to the same page, but I’d expect to have found more by now, based on what the cover text asserts. The section map I’ve been roughing out to help keep track of paths taken indicates that I’ve now been through just over half the book’s pages, so unless there’s some very complex interweaving of routes that I’ve not yet discovered, the claimed number of paths through the book must be an exaggeration. Still, a cursory check has confirmed that CYStZA does indeed have as many endings as the back cover says, so it’s not the most misleading gamebook blurb I’ve encountered, regardless.