The full story of the Farmhouse Raid

This is the full story of the Farmhouse Raid, told over thirty-five consecutive 140-character tweets, and recounted here for your pleasure!

What a pain in the arse that was! We got trapped in the farmhouse and were forced to stay the night in the cellar. The place was crawling… Getting in was fine. We tethered the horses outside (loosely, in case we all got killed) and found three stinkers in the offices upstairs. They were dispatched easily enough, they were slow and fetid. I slipped in the black ooze they leak when cut, and cracked my head on a desk. After some impromptu first aid (Dawn always carries some stuff), we set about plundering.
I found two shotguns and around 400 cartridges. Also some painkillers (I popped four), tins of dog chow and some animal tranquillisers. We made our way downstairs to an enclosed courtyard. It had a metal gate beyond which we saw 6 or 7 of the fuckers. They set about the horses once they got the scent. One was skinned alive. The others broke free. We were trapped so set about devising a plan. But whilst we were there we decided to see what else we could salvage. That’s when I found the generator. We always fancied one (although we don’t really need it), but they’re heavy so I decided to test it out. Purely to see if we’d be carrying dead weight, you understand?
Well, the noise drew another few stinkers out of the outbuildings and woods. More came. I found three chainsaws in the courtyard but only one long enough to deal with the undead safely. Dawn and Dal found horse gear. They began to pack that up, as more stinkers arrived. Jay and I loaded the shotguns, and filled the saw with fuel before helping the others. The gates were on a latch. We voted to cut & run before more horses were lost – couldn’t see them from the yard but didn’t want to risk it. After a final check (we found outdoor clothing & boots) we opened the gates, soon they were on us. Dal is ace with a scimitar but held back. Jay took the shottie, me the saw. I held it so the spray arced away to the left (thanks, @daveyhatesmith !) and felled four like butter.
Jay got two shots in, then got grabbed whilst reloading. I couldn’t risk the saw so close to him, so Dal basically punched her in the face. But he cut his knuckles. It basically turned into a gigantic donkey-fuck and we had to retreat. Our friend needed our immediate attention. I don’t know how – maybe they’d watched us – but when we were back inside Dawn saw they’d got into the courtyard. I KNOW I shut that latch. Anyway, what with Dal and knowing how they can smash windows, we retreated to the cellar immediately. Sure enough, we heard smashing glass. We found a trap door to outside pretty quick, so we knew our route out. But we could hear them on top, groaning, the damaged ones thrashing.
Dal already knew we would have quarantined him in camp if that had happened, so he started to lash himself to rings embedded in the walls. I watched him all night. He was lucid, and perfectly healthy the whole time. We gave him 24 hours. We could hear the stinkers above us. When this afternoon rolled round, we untied Dal and made a break for it. But the horses had gone, except for the one whose belly lay open. I still had the saw, Jay the gun, but all the booty was in the yard still. We crept into the woods and after an age found two of the horses. We mounted two apiece, with Jay and I passengers to the two more experienced on horses. But what about the booty? Should we go back for it?
Of course! We thundered back into the yard, my saw rattling heads off, Jay’s 12-bore booming like thunder, only stopping to get the booty. In all we must have met forty between the four of us. We lost a horse but gained some great supplies. We’ve three new foals in camp anyway. Apart from a hairy moment when our horse slipped on the jet-black fat left on the cobbles from the carnage, we made it out and home safely. We even met up with the other horse. But riding pillion (is that right?) for that long made my arse ache. My head’s now sorted & Dal’s fine. So, we had several very lucky escapes and we learnt lessons. I’m off in a bit to play with the shotgun, but how’s everyone else’s day been?!

About N.J. Hallard

N.J. Hallard was born in England in 1975. He lives with his wife and child on the West Sussex coast. He enjoys cooking and telling tall tales.
This entry was posted in Encampment update, Raids and salvage, The Full Story..., Zombie attack. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The full story of the Farmhouse Raid

  1. Jonny t says:

    Fantastc,can’t wait to read more.

  2. NJHallard says:

    Thank you! I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of that farmhouse.

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