How long could my son survive a zombie attack?
“This is the way the world ends; not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door.”
― Amanda Hocking, Hollowland
I don’t know how many other dads do this, but every once in a while I’ll test my kids in small ways to see their reaction if left to their own devices. It’s never anything serious — I just put them in a situation to see how they figure something out for themselves while I (unbeknownst to them) monitor them…
Daddy is getting the groceries out of the trunk, how do I unbuckle myself?
Daddy isn’t on this side of the house, what would I do if I’m home alone?
Daddy can’t hear me ask for water, can I get it all by myself?
Recently, my wife was out of town so I decided to take things to another level…
How long could my son survive a zombie attack?
How much stamina does he have? Can he evade a single attacker by using stairs and narrow passageways to his advantage? Does he know how to use everyday objects as weapons if need be?
Let the experiment begin.
12:01pm EST
Things got off to a rocky start. My son decided that playing dead would be his first tactic. While I’m proud he had a game plan going in, I decided to halt the experiment and explain to him that playing dead wasn’t going to work — he had to run away or hide.
12:03pm EST
I’ve hidden on the other side of the house and I start to walk around aimlessly. I hear him in the backyard so I start to limp over there.
Note: I’m assuming that if (when) zombies rise up, they’ll be slow and stumbling. George Romero has attributed this quality to rigor mortis, and to the poor condition of their ankles. A sheriff in Night of the Living Dead suggests that their limited mobility is due to the fact that "they're dead, they're... all messed up” which is good enough for me.
As I turn the corner, he sprints in the opposite direction. I’m very proud of him at this point.
At his current rate of speed, my son could easily outpace me. I estimate he’s running at about 5 miles per hour. My limping has me at about 1 mile per hour. Given just a few minutes of evasion, he’d easily be out of range for me to hear, see, or smell him.
But we’re in a house setting and there are many variables, including the stone steps he’s a few feet from having to navigate. He can’t quite run down them yet, and still needs to use his hands, but he makes very quick work of those steps.
12:13pm EST
Matthew has successfully avoided me for more than 10 minutes now, which is a huge accomplishment for a 2-year-old. I decide to turn it up a notch.
When zombies are by themselves, they’re typically docile — sniffing, walking, banging into trees — but when someone is nearby they get aggressive. I begin to snarl and reach my hands out towards him.
What does Matthew do?
That’s right. In the event of a full-grown zombie coming straight at him, my son picks up a lead pipe and is swinging it wildly at my legs.
But not only that, he begins using an assortment of weapons, testing to see which has the greater degree of immobilization.
12:23pm EST
I end the experiment about 20 minutes after it began and I’ve come to several conclusions:
While my son would certainly be a liability if a zombie attack were to occur, he wouldn’t handicap our family nearly as much as I thought. He can outrun a zombie, he can make his way up and down stairs, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use any number of household objects as a weapon.
Speaking of running, my son kept up a pace between 3-5 miles per hour for nearly the entire experiment. That would easily keep him away from any zombie.
My only criticism was that he didn’t think to go inside the house. I had left all doors unlocked, but he didn’t approach any of them. We went over this several times later in the day. He knows now.
Reader, I implore you — if you have young children, an exercise like this could be difference between life and death. Observe strengths, identify weaknesses, and help your children grow into the kinds of people who will not be the weak link if (when) a zombie attack occurs.
