How to Kill a Zombi

   It’s certainly true that the brain is the key to any zombie’s heart, and there are very few zombie movies that show any other way to kill these monstrous creatures. When I played Heroquest as a kid I didn’t really think (or know) that I was be hacking into zombie heads to defeat the Witch King’s minions, but it does bring a certain new angle to the game. Hey kids, play as the barbarian who can smash in skulls or be transformed by a zombie bite.

   In my book, there are a few zombie deaths and I thought I’d investigate just how well the various weapons do.

Sword

   Wilhelm certainly likes to swing his sword and I’d say it’s his primary weapon. He’s that dark brooding character who can fend off any foes with a trusty blade and, though I didn’t want him coming across as an unbeatable superhero, I tried to show he was good with a sword. There are several times he battles with both zombi and Hill People (for the later see the recently released After Death) and for the most part comes out on top.

   The classic way to kill with the sword is decapitation and this makes it awkward to finish of the zombi. Unfortunately, in my book you can quite easily have a rolling head snapping at your ankles so a second plunge would be required. Another temptation would be to instinctively block or slash from left to right, but to lose an arm or leg would be nothing for these unstoppable creatures. Eventually, as with most zombie horrors, Wilhelm cottons on that a good blow to the skull is required.

Polearm

    Oo no, no, no. In the battle of Abendale the town guard are armed with these long weapons, ready to impale the invaders of the city in their hedgehog formation. The trouble is that zombi are unstoppable. I remember once reading about the same formations with bayonets and how they could rarely be broken by cavalry. The horses would be more than a little reluctant to charge this hedge of spines, but zombi are quite the opposite when they see juicy brains beyond. On top of this, a good thrust to a small head would be needed to bring them down and this would not be the easiest to accomplish.

Pistol

   We don’t really see this much in Demon Rising or After Death (Wilhelm has one such weapon and uses it for the last time during the attack on the mill), mainly because there’s no gunpowder weapons in the world I created. If you want to find out how Wilhelm got the weapon, you’ll have to read After Death and the third book in the trilogy when I write it! However, the weapon is effective at close range. When the zombi try to scramble up the stairs of the mill, a pull of the trigger blows in the skull of the nearest and blocks up the path of the others. But (there’s always a but), these firearms are of an old style that certainly aren’t good at long range and so its power against the undead diminishes. I certainly would not wish to stand near the grabbing arms and yellowed teeth.

Bow and arrow

   This takes us to After Death when Emile is trying to hold off the attackers in the woods. She’s good with the bow having been taught by her old brother who went hunting with their father, King Theissen. However, how easy is it to hit the zombi slap bang in the forehead? I’d say not easy at all. There are several times when a shot goes amiss or leaves the advancing corpse with a missile protruding from its chest. Maybe it’s not the best to use unless…

Fire arrows

   …you have it set alight! Now we’re talking! Granted the zombi aren’t massively flammable but get a bit of oil in there and whoosh! This one comes from the siege on Darlech castle in After Death, and it certainly brings down a fair few clutching killers. Trying to hold the dead back, the defenders light up and let fly, leaving the zombi as over-cooked barbeque burgers that eventually crumble to the floor. A little roasting of the brain is enough to release whatever magic is holding them up and a fair few collapse to the ground.

   So there you have it, how my characters manage to keep the undead at bay. Sometimes they are successful, sometimes they meet a gory end, but whatever the outcome it adds to an enjoyable apocalypse tale.

   Remember that After Death is now out, so if you want to give it a try you can find it on my Facebook page by clicking the link below. You’ll have to read Demon Rising first (I have that up for a very low price) to get familiar with the various characters. I hope you enjoy both books in the series.

https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor

Zombie Apocalypse Blog Part 2

   This is the blog of a character set in the background of my book Demon Rising. You can find the first post in my blog if you’d like to catch up on what’s happening or, if you’re interested in reading the book, see the Facebook link below. Enjoy.

*

   Tela looked down at the young boy who sat trembling in the chair, his eyes fixated on the floor and his hands constantly rubbing each other. He seemed like a lost lamb who had faced a wolf, just about escaping with its life. Whatever was causing those people outside to flee had certainly affected the boy’s mind.

   “Where’s your mum and dad?” I repeated my wife’s question, but again the boy refused to answer.

    “Just what the hell is going on?” I asked my wife, though I knew she would not have a clue. Looking out of the window, I could see the people shuffling past the gate, tired and withdrawn. They looked as though the world was coming to an end. Tela drew a seat up next to the boy and sat herself down, putting a motherly arm around his shoulder.

   “Get him a drink Benjamin, it might bring him around a bit.” In a second, I was back with a small amount of whisky in my tankard and raised it to his lips. He flinched when the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat and almost spat it out. “Keep it down my love, just let it sink in.”

   Grabbing a blanket from next to the kitchen fire, I brought it over to the boy and wrapped it around him. By the time I had come back it looked as though the trembling was beginning to fade away, like the end of shaking ground when an earthquake has passed.

    “They’re nightmares.” The whispered words were barely audible from the lips, but we had both heard them and it creased our brows. Just what was this boy referring to. Kneeling beside him, I drew closer to try and make out what he was saying.

   “They have destroyed my home,” said the boy, bursting into tears. Tela soothed him while he cried into her chest. When he settled, and we were sure he would not break, we began the questions again.

   “Where do you live?” I asked, interested to where he was referring.

   He sniffed his leaking nose and then wiped it with the back of his hand. “Abendale, sir. They came in through the northern gates and set fire to the town. We are the survivors.”

    The words hit me with shock. Had Abendale really come under attack? If so who could it be? There was no sign of our king sending troops to the south and how could anyone attack from the seas? The forts would quickly send out forces to prevent landings. The boy had to be confused. I chewed my lip, trying to work out what to say. To rebuke him might plunge him back into silence. I decided to play along with his fantasy.

   “Just who attacked the city?”

   “No, no, no!” The boy suddenly cried out, refusing to let out the memories that had sealed themselves within his mind. “Don’t let them come!”

    The boy’s shout of panic, terror and hysteria was so sudden and so wild that that, for a second, I began to believe an invasion had actually occurred. While he collapsed crying into Tela’s arms once more, I brought another question to my lips, but my wife shook her head. That was enough for now. Bewildered by it all, I stepped back and pondered what to do.

    “I’ll try and find someone outside who can fill me in.” I finally decided, thinking about my son Matthias. “They did not want to talk, but we have to find out if something is wrong in Abendale. Matthias has gone to market and if these people are fleeing from its festival then…” I swallowed hard.

For those who want to find out more about my books, you can go to my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor to find tit bits, blog posts and background information. Enjoy!

White Zombie

   Made in 1932, White Zombie was the first zombie film. It’s interesting to see the contrast between such a film made almost a hundred years ago, and the more violent and gory films of the genre we see today. When the first zombies traipse onto the screen, they’re certainly not the monsters we picture nowadays. Indeed, they’re no supposed to be decayed corpses that are bloated and falling apart, but the recent dead raised from the afterlife. This is not a film of disgust, but one that is meant to spook the innocent in an overly protected world.

   It certainly doesn’t play on the idea of an apocalypse, or some sort of disease spread by bites. The almost human zombies work the sugar cane fields and are the labourers of a plantation owner, more slaves than cannibalistic killers. From the way they act in the film, if they were told by their master to east flesh I swear they would reply, “Eeeeewww! No way!” In my books Demon Rising and After Death aim more for the modern-day concept, dead staggering along whilst they spread their disease through munching on their victims.

   One of the definite similarities is the cause of these risen dead. I’ve tried to aim for a more traditional concept in my books, arising from the Haiti origins of this mythological monster (hence I refer to them as zombi). It would make sense that the first zombie films played on this, not having their own style of film, and so White Zombie uses voodoo to conjure up their killers. “Murder” Legendre, a Haiti voodoo master, raises the recent dead by his powers, far from the style of zombie film that we have nowadays. With my protagonist Khazar raising the first part of his army from the dead by using his magical powers, it shows a likeness to the film.

    Demon Rising and After Death both have the usual modern zombie horror plot: fighting or fleeing to survive whilst the wave of growing zombies overwhelms. However, White Zombie takes another angle, obviously a more traditional storyline with the concept of zombies added in. It’s actually part romance, the wife in a newly married couple turned into a zombie whilst the husband tries to defeat the voodoo master in order to bring her back. One way in which the two books do sway away from the norm is their merger with the fantasy genre. There are very few that go this route (such as The Dark Kingdom, 2018).

    In all, the zombies play very little role in White Zombie and it’s interesting to see how modern films have come such a long way from their ancestor. The romance/horror plot, the zombies in barely any of the film (rather than being the main protagonists) and the lack of zombie violence: it just goes to show how far we have come from the first of the zombie movies.

For those who want to find out more about my books, you can go to my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor to find tit bits, blog posts and background information. Enjoy!

Wounds That Make a Zombi Disgusting

   In a zombi apocalypse book, it’s obviously been crucial for me to describe the living dead. Just a tad. Throughout both Demon Rising and After Death they come from various backgrounds, if that’s the right word, and I’ve tried to bring different ideas in that make them gory and far from picturesque in the reader’s mind. From the soldiers who died fighting in the initial sacrifice that awakened them, to the peasants who have been overwhelmed by the living dead, to the virtually decomposed bodies that Khazar has raised from the grave. Just what did I have in mind?

   Well it began with a good old slaughter fest of the king’s soldiers who tried to rescue Emile (the princess), so it’s not surprising that my first zombies in mind were those cut down in battle. When they twitched and came back to life, slowly moving muscles to gradually grain back their movement, my writing wandered into thinking of the wounds they had taken. A nice slash across the gut is always a good one to start with. There’s nothing anyone can flinch more at than intestines spilling out to drag behind a staggering corpse, but necks slit open and limbs missing were also inevitable.

   This was also my first scene with the zombi so there was plenty to play with. Take After Death, when a legion of undead attacked Darlech castle, descriptions that went into massive detail probably wouldn’t be the best way to go. I’ve already been told my work is very descriptive and paints a vivid picture in the reader’s mind, something I never realised, so going through each and every face (or what’s left) would be tiresome and tedious.

   In Demon Rising, a water mill was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of dead as Wilhelm, Aldar and Tom tried to escape. It was an enjoyable scene to write, one of those moments when you come across a problem with the plot and have a eureka moment. In this case how they escaped when cut off. The sailors that were loading a cargo ship became snacks for the zombi, and I remember describing one has it raised itself from the ground. It’s a different angle to come at than those dying in battle and instead I tried to think of what exactly would happen when killed by a zombie (yuck!). I went for chunks of flesh missing, bits flayed and finally whatever had killed the poor sole.

   One of my other zombi type were those dead raised from a church when Khazar continued his conquest of southern Mariad (the kingdom the book is set in). These had been sitting around simmering for a while in their graves, so I took to the books (or internet) and looked at the effects of decomposition on the human body. With little left by this point, I went for the angle of having them almost skeletal: rags of cloth and the like rather than gory injuries. One of my beta readers actually questioned this concept, unsure of how they would be held together or how they could be killed seeing as their brain had long since dispersed. My opinion is this; do we need to have some sort of physical constraint to keep them in shape? Some zombi are humans that are just decaying or dead, but in my mind it was magic keeping their shape. Did they have to have a brain, maybe, but then what’s to say that a blow to the skull releasing the magic didn’t do the work? For me, this was something for the reader to decide, rather than to be set down in rules.

   So there you have it, how my mind played through painting the walking corpses that have taken so much of the Kingdom of Mariad. Its certainly been interesting doing the research, drawing up the metaphors, and imagining the gore, and I hope it brings images to the reader’s mind that really help them take in the zombi hordes.

For those who want to find out more about my books, you can go to my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor to find tit bits, blog posts and background information. Enjoy!

War in Ukraine

War in Ukraine

It’s been a strange last few days listening to the news. To be honest, it’s been a strange last few years. When Boris Johnson came onto television to declare lockdown, we all sat in front of the TV while my wife and told the kids that this was one of those momentous occasions that will stand out in history and be something they always remembered. We talked about how we saw the fall of the Berlin Wall, the smoking Two Towers of 9/11, Princess Diana’s crumpled car and US troops entering Iraq during the first Iraq war.

It seems we have been hit by several of these moments at once: Brexit in 2020 and the repercussions of the decision over the last couple of years; the Coronavirus pandemic beginning the same year and the hundreds of thousands that died (and are still dying) from it; the horror and fear of Donald Trump’s presidency from 2016 – 2000; and now the Ukraine.

I guess we all knew that Putin has the obsessive desire for power to do such a thing but we never fully believed it would be done. We all watched Trump with baited breath, seeing if he’d cause a world war, flinched as Kim Jong-un firing nuclear missiles and worried if Boris Johnson would fall over onto the big red button, but nothing has ever come of such terrible world leaders. So, it did and didn’t comes as a surprise when Putin invaded.

What has shocked me the most is the way the world has come together. For those who feel world powers should be landing troops and firing missiles at Russia I would say do you really want to start a nuclear war? Rush Ukraine into NATO after this, make sure all our fellow NATO countries have the protection they need, and kick Russia out of the world bodies to isolate them, but sadly this is one we have to stay out of. However, everyone is piling tonnes of stress on Putin. Even if he does have his moment of conquest, then Russia will be in major trouble (I pray). I honestly feel sorry for the people of Russia. The elite at the top own so much of the economy and have all the power so there is no way the civillians should be exposed to suffering, but that is the effect sanctions will have. Yet, how else does the world protect itself against someone like Putin? World War 3?

The bravery of the Ukraine is outstanding, it makes me feel proud to see such defiance and determination against their adversary. Peace talks will not make a difference against someone like Putin, and allowing him to march over their beliefs and democracy without challenging him would allow an egotistical megalomaniac to believe he can own yet more of the world. What is even more scary is how similar Putin’s reasons are to Hitler’s.

“I must also declare before the German people that in the Sudeten German problem my patience is now at an end. Czechoslovakia must give the Germans their freedom, or we will get this freedom for ourselves.” Hitler

“In people’s hearts and minds, Crimea has always been an inseparable part of Russia.” Putin

In 1919 the Treaty of Versailles was signed to maintain peace (definitely not the fairest of documents), whilst in 1994, Putin signed international agreements to “respect the independence, the sovereignty, and the existing borders of Ukraine.” Both were torn up pretty quickly.

As countries come together, their sanctions might not have the fastest of effects on Putin and Russia, but it will have an effect. After 2014 the sanctions caused the economy to plunge and now these also hit Putin personally. I pray that they will have an effect, even if it is in the long term.

But it’s not just this that suddenly makes me feel that humans can, just sometimes, work together to fight back a monster. Hackers anonymous have picked up their weapons to take down media in Russia that Putin so drastically needs to control the people. The Eurovision, Gran Prix, the World Cup and Facebook are all banning Russia to damage their economy. This is not a bunch of world leaders coming together, but the world itself.

Let’s also not forget the way the war affects us. When people are dying should we grumble about petrol prices rising or damage to the economy? Maybe, maybe not. A decade ago I was a single bachelor, not worried if the bills went up a bit as there was only myself and I knew I could make end’s meat. Now I have five children and a wife whom I support, a world where bills rise thanks to outside influence, and every one of my steps forwards seems to be held back. The pressure ways down on shoulders to bring extra stress and it can be hard to make the way forwards with a spring in the step. Nevertheless, look at what the people of Ukraine are going through, what the world is going through, and just maybe any hardship that hits us won’t feel quite as bad. In the end, should we feel guilty when the world seems on our shoulders? No. But if we refuse to offer to carry this weight and not do our part helping the Ukraine then humanity really is coming to an end.

Maybe this isn’t one of my usual zombi posts to tell you about the world I have created in my head, but, just this once, I felt like talking about the world around us was more appropriate.

Zombie Apocalypse Blog

I thought I’d throw in a diary blog of a character in Mariad during the story’s zombie apocalypse. If you find the concept and writing interesting, give me a shout, and maybe I’ll write a few more to put in!

   ‘This morning there seems to be a tension in the air, no call of the birds who had abandoned our hedges and no travellers returning from the markets of Abendale. I had been cutting the corn, sweeping my scythe back and fore to harvest the crop in rippling swathes. I had left it too long, and when the dark clouds had drifted across the sun it made me curse. With the first raindrops falling I had abandoned the task and hauled the last cartload home, my horse obedient and uncomplaining.

   My son had left earlier that morning, taking a few of our best sheep to be sold at the Abendale fair. Good prices can easily be found amongst the celebrations, stalls and traders. I had leaned against the barn door, protected from the growing rain, and chewed on the bread I had brought for lunch. Something in the world just felt wrong.

   Before long I saw the first of them traipsing the road that ran past the farm. They were partially hidden by the hawthorn hedges, but they grew in numbers. The people who walked past seemed drained of energy with pale skin and torn clothing. There were no carts or goods, no entertainers or anyone from the festivities, but they all seemed defeated and weary. And they were growing in numbers.

   My wife stepped out into the light, the sun poking its head out, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes.

   “Who are they?” But I had no answer. More were making their way along, passing the farmhouse without even looking up. Though they seemed exhausted, they did not wish to stop.

   A young boy looked through the gaps in the gate, peering between the wooden beams, rather than climbing to the top. He seemed in shock, trembling, and he finally having enough of whatever pilgrimage these people were taking. My wife, soft-hearted that she is, quickly walked over and clicked the gate open. He looked up at her with sad and lost eyes.

   Kneeling down she took his hand. “What has happened?”

   He didn’t reply, just looking at her with those eyes that reminded me of a hunted rabbit.

    “Are your parents here?” she asked, stroking his hand softly. “Your mum? Dad?”

   The reply finally came and he shook his head with vigour before his gaze lowered. I could see such pain in him that it made my heart flinch.

    Evidently decided, my Tela took the boy’s hand and led him into the house, leaving me outside to stand and watch as the people trudged past. The never-ending stream of lifelessness kept moving past, lost in their own world and totally ignorant of my presence just a few meters away. Just what was happening?’

If you want to know more about my books Demon Rising and After Death, you can take a look at my Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor to see the background of Mariad, tit bits from the stories, and information about the characters. Enjoy!

Apocalypse Priorities

With the popularity of my last zombie blog (unsurprising since I write zombie apocalypse books!), I thought I’d delve into the gruesome depths once again. With suggestions such as “Why zombies can’t work in a Starbucks coffee shop” from my daughter (definitely an idea for the future) I decided to go for a simple ‘what would I do in the event of a zombie apocalypse.’ My wife and I sat down for a small chat, coming up with our own lists and comparing. You can see she has biggest the brains out of both of us.

1. Getting a weapon.

Definitely a high priority for both of us (my first and my wife’s third) it’s essential to have something to cave in the odd skull or too, zombie or invader of our premises. Much as we have a gun store about twenty minutes away by car, it’s safe to say that it would be hard to access in town and I’d reckon the weapons would be gone by the time we got there. In our rural dwelling, the local farms would probably be the best location for the odd firearm or two, but again this might not be a definite. Instead, we have quite a few choppy, choppy items around our very small, smallholding. A couple of axes, iron bars, chainsaws and more could easily be scooped up, forming a small rag-tag army with my five kids. Possibly not my three-year-old. In all due fairness to my wife, she left it till job three as we have so many about the place we could easily grab something should the undead come too close.

2. Food and supplies.

This was a big one (obviously) number two on my list and number one on my wife’s. If we’re going to survive in this hellish world then we’ll need food till we can grow our own, medicines to treat our wounds and other important Tesco products. My opinion would be to hit the corner shops. Our local village wouldn’t have an overwhelming number of zombies and even if they were in high numbers we could creep up the along the river where the dead are less likely to be. Granted there’s less in the small shop, it would be an immediate source of nourishment, and maybe taking a couple of rucksacks would let us get to the next village along. Definitely a few clubs and thumps of undead heads needed there, but the larger shops would provide a range of products and tools.

3. Visiting the pharmacy. Doh! I have no idea why this one didn’t come to me! Maybe I was hoping to find bandages and plasters at the larger corner shops, but with the closer pharmacy this would be a much more sensible target. Twenty minutes and we’d be near the door: pain killers, plasters and pills galore. It was my wife who came up with this one (number two on her list) so it just goes to show how much brighter she is than me!

4. Barricade the premises. Number three for me and four for my wife, this one is another important task needed to keep the ghouls at bay. We did have a conversation about whether to stay at home or not. It’s a big place and could make a good fort using the garage as an outpost, our veg patches to grow food, and it would be easier to keep our livestock where they are. Bolster the fences and gates and it could be just what we need.

On the other hand, we’re in a dip: much easier for them to shuffle downwards to our property once they spot it. Hmmmm. Behind us, the mountain might offer much more protective potential and a local farm that has bit the dust (no pun intended) might be an ideal location to spot the oncoming hordes. Clear out the few dead agriculturists and we’d have plenty of weapons, tools for making food, and plenty of places to protect the premises.

5. Finding the survivors. This is a hostile world where we need to work together, so finding the odd person who needs a place to stay might be a good idea. Ok so this could go badly too, no-one wants to wake with a knife sticking out their back in the middle of the night, but in all the good zombie films there are at least four or five working together to survive. Could they have survived so long in the Walking Dead and created such amazing communities without teaming together? I think not.

Our local villages would have to have a few people wanting to join the crew, and provided we all work as a team then our chances of surviving grow. My preference is a socialist way of life, all contributing to our survival and all sharing in the rewards that our new lifestyle can offer. Whether its vegetables, protection or drinking water, whether the farmer, lookout or well digger, we work together to keep humanity alive.

6. Find a form of communication. So, how long is it until we lose communication? Does the internet go down over night? Do we have enough electric to keep our mobiles charged. I don’t really know about using radios to keep in touch, but all these things could be very important if we are to find help when its needed most. Who knows, the police, army or mountain rescue might still be going!

If our mobiles are up and running then it’s all good, but should we lose our communication then we’re on our own. When the hordes find us and start swarming down the driveway, I’m pretty sure I’d like to call in the cavalry. My number five.

7. And finally my wife’s number five; working on long term food supplies. I agree with this and I’d certainly put it at number six on my list (seven if you count the pharmacy), but this really is something to work on in the long term. We currently have veg patches and a good range of animals, but expansion would be essential if we want to keep the family going indefinitely. Traipsing tinned food back and fore from the shops (when other survivors would be gradually using up the reserves) wouldn’t be exactly practical.

It would be a fair walk to seeds (Tesco, Asda and other such places are available but they’re about an hour and a half by foot) so it’s quite the task. Keeping our animals going would be a bit of a challenge too – the pigs might end up in the freezer faster than they usually would – but our milking goats and chickens would certainly stay around. Couldn’t do without a lovely glass of milk and fried egg in the morning!

I guess it goes to show that we all have similar ideas when it comes to survival. Three of our five being the same, my wife and I (for the most part) had great minds thinking alike. The zombies can be held off for just a little while longer! However, what I find more interesting are the priorities that we haven’t shared, those that make us difference. My survival is more about the immediate and working with other people, whilst my wife knows we’d need medical supplies and our family has to survive in the long term. These different make us individuals, each having our own strengths. It is through these strengths, through working together, that we may just survive the coming apocalypse.

Remember you can find out about my Zombie Apocalypse Fantasy book Demon Rising on my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor. You’ll find blog posts, tit-bats and background the the story and its characters.

Today…zombis!

Today’s blog is about…zombies! I thought it was about time I wrote about the main killers of the book, the terrifying apocalypse carriers that bring death to those around them! I was first exposed to zombies when I was given the Heroquest game as a kid: barbarian, dwarf, wizard and elf fighting orcs and undead. The zombies are still easy to picture now: they had hair draping down the sides of their head, ragged waistcoats, and huge meat cleaver-like axes that they carried in both hands. Warhammer would take this future when I would read about the undead armies, but I was never fussed on taking my own miniature in that direction.

I’d say the three main direction pointers at a later part of my life were Dawn of the Dead, Walking Dead and World War Z (I love Saun of the Dead too, but it didn’t really influence my book as much. Saying that, there were plenty of gory scenes so maybe it did!). I definitely preferred the idea of the traditional, shambling zombie, but Walking Dead and World War Z hadn’t come out when I wrote Demon Rising so it was the traditional zombie films that brought about this influence. Come After Death, there are certainly scenes that I pictured from the film, taking thoughts and imagery to form my own work. Using the zombie’s to swarm Darlech Castle must have had a link to the World War Z zombie’s overwhelming Israel’s walls and the masses swaying together in huge army sized numbers could easily be found in the Walking Dead series.

Incidentally, in the book I call them zombis, though Wilhelm does point out that they can be called either zombie or zombi. The reason is the zombie origin. I always try to base my monster on their foundations (hence strigois being in the tale, rather than vampires) and the Haiti culture, referring to them as a zombi:

   “Haiti has often been called the vodu or mysterious island. Many people believe that there are to’ be found some unusual facts which modern science has not yet been able to explain: -for example, the phenomenon of magic and the existence of Zombis.”

                                                From The Story of Zombi in Haiti, Louis P Mars M.D. 1945

   Here the zombi are raised by voodoo, another reason why Khazar uses magic to initially bring the dead back to life.

  How to kill the zombi? Well I went for the straight forward blow to the head here. In one instance a zombi is decapitated and the head stays alive, so I’m guessing I’ve picture the pieces requiring an attachment to the body for functionality. The idea of limbs crawling about on their own seems a bit lame to me, but the traditional whack on the head is more than enough. Incidentally, I was asked why one soldier did take off a limb and not go straight for the head and I would point out two facts. One, you’re facing a living corpse! There’s this rotting, snarling horror swinging out at you and trying to gather your brains for lunch so there might be an initial bit of panic that makes you strike out at random. Two, for those professionals who know to go for the head; maybe chopping of a limb would be easier. Try going for the head and the zombi might reach out and grab you, chop of its arms first and that won’t be an issue. Job done.

   I’d certainly recommend being fast and not getting bitten. The zombi in my story are slow, not so slow that they act like sloths but I’d say a speed that you could easily run away from. Your Walking Dead speed rather than the racers of World War Z. They’re the typical swarm or take by surprise undead, clearly shown in a few instances where they are out ridden or dodged. In one huge battle the masses of zombi are just too much, a typical horde devouring their prey.

   Bite wise I definitely wanted this to be a conversion factor, though I didn’t illustrate this too frequently. In Demon Rising and After Death, one individual is bitten and turned, joining the dead within minutes, but mainly I went for the untold numbers overwhelming the soon to be dead. The conversions were born from typical films where they became fevered and semi-conscious, losing total awareness before eyes flicker open to bring them back to the world. I must say that the one in Demon Rising does change faster than the one in After Death, but they’re different people from different lifestyles so who knows the cause?

   Last night I read about a film where bringing down the mage who created them turned all the zombi back to people. I think it’s a common conception with many books and films to bring down the ring leader and the forces collapse, but I didn’t really like the idea for my book. It seemed to cheesy to see them just all collapse to the floor if Khazar died and it would be worse to have them turn back into humans. Yet Khazar was the head of this dead horde. He is able to control them, to tell them where to go and what to do, so will the story take this route? I certainly have a few nice ideas in mind!

   Apparently, I’m very descriptive in my writing, so I like to toy with most of the senses when writing about the undead. When I worked on the farm, I’ve cleared away animal corpses (some in a particularly bad state) so it didn’t take much to bring back the thoughts of smells and sights (much as I almost brought back my lunch at the time!). The ideas of the smell hanging around afterwards, filling the air, the decomposing state giving them colour and, to an extent, texture, all could be written into my work. Every time I had a zombi, I pictures what had killed it and wrote this into the description, whether a slash across the neck or its guts spilling out. Lovely.

   The zombis came from all across the southern end of the Kingdom of Mariad, so by the end of the book there were soldiers, millers, farmers and citizens who had joined Khazar’s force. It gave a wide range of descriptions I could draw upon, and painted a lovely picture for the reader. It’s basically what I love to do, get the picture in my mind and transfer it to the reader, allowing them to put their own take on it. In the end, what’s better than making someone else happy through the thoughts that come to your own mind, even if there is a bit of gore on the way.

Remember you can find out more about my book at my Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor where you can find a link to the Amazon Kindle copy for just 99p! Enjoy the read!

Porcine Experiences

When I was younger, I had fought my way back from decrepit mock A-level results, dragging myself upwards to try and reach the grades required for a veterinary career. It had been a hard year, giving up my free time to slog away in the library with the help of a highly intelligent student. When I received the results my teacher, who had told me there was no way I would reach the required grades, bear hugged me in the corridor, proud of what I had achieved. Mrs. Kell wasn’t the best at showing her emotions, so what she expressed that day really was moving. But I had failed.

Pondering my life before me, I now thought about the fairly good grades I had achieved and where they could take me. I think the route I had taken was just shown to me through systematic paperwork of careers guidance and concern from those who felt a well-paid job was essential to stability and safety. Looking back, I can certainly say it wasn’t because I had any longing to do the job and it wasn’t until that summer that my heart really took me to where I wanted to be.

It was a beautiful Summer day, the green shades of countryside hedges and fields creating a painting that drew me into the landscape. I was holding onto the side of a tractor, tightly gripping the door as the vehicle bounced along the canal path with my uncle’s farmland spread out beside us. Nature’s scents of flowers that blossomed along the water bank filled the air and the sound of the cattle calling out for each other made me feel relaxed. This was where I wanted to work and where I wanted to be.

A large portion of my life was spent on the farm, feeling at home and at peace while I built fences, drove cows, pulled lambs and carried out my role as a farm labourer. Later on, I would have some of my own animals, pigs that would root the soil to gobble up the insects and grubs whilst chomping up the vegetation. There were several memories that stick with me from this time and here are just a few.

Swiped by a tusk

I cannot remember the name of my favourite pig, but I did have one. She was a clever animal and for some reason she had drawn closer to me. Friendly and eager to have an ear scratched, she became more of a pet than joints of pork. When she had her first piglets, she was clever enough to traipse through the woods to the far side, away from the other pigs who might harm her young. She found a comfortable spot, a broken horsebox that I had set up to be used as a shelter, and careful gave birth to her young. Now that’s a mother and a half.

However, we did have one accident in our otherwise perfect relationship. One time I was rattling the bucket of cake and I could hear the animals leaping over the logs (yes pigs can jump fallen trees – its cracking to watch) and pushing the brambles aside. They burst out of the trees and my favourite pig was in the lead, walking up to me to give me a nudge.

When I looked at my leg it had been slashed open just above my knee, blood running downward to coat my skin red. I and the pig looked at each other puzzled (whilst the rest of them pretty much just wanted their grub), her looking up at me to seemingly say. “I have no idea how I did that.”

I worked out later she had caught me with her tusk, its spear head like tip much smaller than that of any wild boar, but evidently still long enough to give a nice cut. Being so close to the joint it took a while to heal up and I still have the scar till today.

Riding a pig

This one may sound quite odd, but apparently there is a pig rodeo in China – who knew! Pigs are surprisingly big, larger than the animal most people picture in their mind, and apparently large enough to ride! My animals were known as Landraces, pigs that were big and much longer for extra chops. Despite my animals being slightly smaller than the large whites, they were still larger than most breeds and a dare to see how long I could stay on one could not be turned down.

Apparently, the length of time was not very long. Seemingly not bothered about the primate now seated upon its back, the porcine ride stepped forwards and shook a bit to send me toppling. Much fun, but not nearly as easy as I had hoped.

Attacked by a mum

My nastiest episode was when one of my pigs had given birth and the young and mother were finally ready to go out. I always made sure they gave birth in one of my farrowing crates, a construction that allowed the female to crash out on its side, but had gaps between bars for the piglets to escape from their mother’s excessive weight. Yes, pigs easily crush their young without realising it.

After putting her out of her crate so that they could settle into the openness of a pen, the young running around squealing and digging amongst the straw, the mother was herded out into the woods with the youngsters taken over in a wheel barrow. It was easier than having them run all over the place.

Over the other side of the fence she watched suspiciously as I brought the first over, starting to complain when I lifted them and they started squealing. One by one I picked up the reluctant baby and it wriggled in defiance of my grip. Every time I put one down over the other side, it ran to its mum and she took a quick look before expressing her anger at the outrage.

On the last one she had had enough. As I bent over to put the piglet down, she leapt up to grip the fence with her front hooves and sink her teeth into my shoulder. I can’t say it was deep, she didn’t rip a chunk of flesh out of my torso, but it made me move fast and was another experience where one of my animals gave me a nasty wound.

Stuffed

Pigs escape a lot without very sturdy fencing at the base, not wire but a solid barrier that will hide the opposite side from their gaze. The will easily tear up a fence and will only be stopped if they believe there is nothing to eat in a particular direction. Similarly, they will smash a pen to bits. They have to be treated like forts, tied together with a million chords and its inability to be lifted a certainty.

Yes, I still got caught out on a number of occasions. One such time, I came back up to the top yard where I found the four pigs lying slumped over each other, bellies stuffed full and giving the occasional grunt as they trying to fight back their stomach’s need to explode. I had left four bags (100kg) of feed just around from their pen and, upon breaking out and starting to explore, they had eyed in on the sacks and torn them apart. They had each eaten a whole bag. When I reached them there was nothing left, though I swore they would soon regurgitate it if I had poked them in the belly.

Dancing on Ice

It was a long trail to the pig ark (at least when they were at the farther side of the woods) and I would keep them out for quite some time. The arks I had built were snug with plastisol roofs that offered good insulation, but it would eventually get too cold and I would have to bring them in.

One day, the snow started to drift down. The cold of the last few days and the white layer made me decide to bring them in. It was time to go out and drive them up the mountain track, back down to have them cross over the road, and then into the shed where they could keep themselves warm. They are good travellers and are fairly easy to drive, as long as you prepare in advance.

However, at one point the track had a coating of ice and, though they held back for a second, the call of the feed bucket rattling made them too eager to reach the treats. At this point they could have made their way around the edge, soil that would offer grip despite the small layer of snow upon it, but that was not to be. Instead, like a dance off in the Olympic ice-skating championships, they decided to cross the icy path.

Seeing them slip and slide was an experience that would have me smiling for quite a while afterwards. A couple of the smarter ones quickly worked out that this wasn’t the best way to the food, and decided to make their way back to the edge. The others were not so quick in their thinking. Sliding this way and that, they fought their way across in a drunken version of Torvill and Dean. Though they reached the other side and happily continued chasing after the bucket, I swear the others looked at them as if wondering where their comrades brain cells had disappeared to!

If you like my writing, you can read more about my work on the Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor where you can buy my new fantasy zombie-apocalypse, Demon Rising. I look forwards to seeing you there!

Five most moving experiences in my life

Well I thought I’d go for a blog post that’s another article about my life, this time about the most moving times. We all have them I guess; they are those times when something just glows inside you, tears well up, and it takes all your effort to hold them back. There’s been quite a few times when the world around me has hit me hard: self-employment coming to an end after years of struggle, seeing my new kids at their first Christmas, looking out on the African savannah and being turned down by the girl I had a crush on for about five years to name but a few. However, these aren’t the moments that really hit me the most…

My wife’s fight through chronic illness

My current wife and I have a special relationship. I’ve been in a romantic head over tails love once in my life and, with experience, I came to realise it just isn’t the truest love of all. My wife and I love each other, more than anything else (well ok aside from the kids), for the support and strength we give each other. If it wasn’t for her encouragement, I wouldn’t have tried writing my sequel or my first book published. I certainly wouldn’t have changed my previous career in a 180 degree turn!

What moves me with my wife, is the way she fights against her chronic illnesses. When she had my biological daughter, she made a huge sacrifice for me. Although we didn’t know about her fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue at the time, any woman knows that bearing a baby and giving birth can have drastic effects on the body and mind. After four children before my youngest, I think the stakes were higher! Despite those risks, she allowed me to have my chance to have a daughter that was part of me. Every day when I look at Eve, I know what my wife gave me and, when I see my wife struggling but keeping on going against the torrent of blows, it reminds me just how brave she was and is.

My first wife’s resilience in the wheelchair

In my first marriage, my wife suffered from cancer. It can safely be said that this was one of the hardest times in my life (if not the hardest) and there were times when the struggle took nearly everything out of us. It got harder as time went by and there were certainly times when I had to hold back the tears. I can remember the when I had to stare at myself in the hospital toilet, letting a few of my emotions out before pulling myself together and going back to her side.

How did I cope? My wife. She was amazing at keeping her optimism, continuing the fight, and showing the smile on her face. No matter what we had thrown at us, she fought on. Even when she became too weak to walk, she moved to the wheelchair with acceptance and happiness that pushed away any sorrow or despair. We would take walks along the sea front, dance at our wedding by spinning her wheels around, and laugh at my witty cracks as I pushed her along. There was something special about that bravery and acceptance.

My wife wanting me to be happy

I was at the bottom of the hospital bed, tucking in sheets and sorting the small room where my first wife was lying. She’d been in hospital for quite a while, trying to, but finding it harder to keep going. I can remember the little cap she wore, her cardigan, and her slightly rounded cheeks from the drugs she was taking. There was always her slight smile.

As I tucked away, I heard her call for me. Her eyes were closed, at rest and peace, and she seemed to almost be asleep, but she was awake and going to tell me something. I looked up from the work and asked her if she was ok. Her words were said with strength, as if she had been thinking about them for some time.

“When I’m gone I don’t want you to wait around. I want you to be happy.”

I’m glad she had her eyes shut because I began to cry.

My wedding’s first dance

Since those days I’ve met someone special to love and cherish. I’ve already mentioned her, but she truly is amazing in what she fights through. She learned to cope with the financial strain we were under (until a couple of years after I changed my career), and accepted the conditions she has so that she can finally face them and start creating a life that works with them rather than trying to conquer them. That is especially hard to do.

One my most special moments with her, unsurprisingly, was our wedding. It was a fantastic day/night where the strain seemed to melt away (at least once she was done with getting ready!). I saw her truly relax and forget all about the difficulties of life, her eyes twinkle and that fantastic smile show all I needed to know. When I took her on the dance floor there was nothing else around us. Holding her close, slowly moving, I looked down into her face and it said everything. It was all about the moment and nothing else.

Holding my baby for the first time

Well I guess if you’ve had a child then, chances are this is your most magical moment. It hurts me to think of those who suffer from PTSD, post natal depression or have other reasons took look away, because this experience truly made my heart jump.

We had to have a caesarean. Eve was a big baby, a very big baby, and for one reason or another she had decided to move her head around to my wife’s hip. With the sheet up, I sat by her side, holding her hand and being there for her whilst they operated. I’m definitely grateful that I was allowed to be there.

When they lifted my baby up it was amazing. She was this big red lump, screaming her eyes out (and she cried a lot!) with a pale white umbilical chord that was in such contrast to the rest of her. It’s funny the things that stick in your mind. We took her to the scales where the nurse’s eyes widened at her size (though I have met parents with bigger children since) and still Eve told us that she wanted to be with mum. Loudly.

When I held her, something inside just changed and I was suddenly a father of this little girl who had half of me sown into her genes.

The most special and moving moment of my life.

Remember, if you want to find out about my writing (particular Demon Rising just out on the Amazon Kindle shelves!) you can go to my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/HywelGriffithsAuthor. Feel free to leave comments and likes!