"LARPER!" Jim shouted. "Ten O'Clock!"

I dropped to one knee and turned, but Jim was faster. The crack of the .308 scout rifle echoed through the empty streets as he put a bullet through the chest of the chain-mail clad, sword-wielding maniac screaming towards us. It stumbled and fell, but staggered back up to its feet, still clutching the bent sword in its hand.

Jim fired a second round. This one punched through the rusted helmet on its head, and the thing lay still.

"What the hell was that!?" Carlos shouted. He was still struggling to bring his shotgun to bear. I gently put a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed.

"Well," I said, walking up to the thing and poking it with my sharpened shovel, "when The Bad Times started, there were a bunch of people who figured that they could fight zombies close-in using swords and armor. I think one of those survival guides suggested it too. The idea was that the chainmail could prevent you from getting bitten by the zombos, and you could use a sword to fight them." I carefully placed the point of the sharpened spade against the throat of the still-twitching zombie and pressed down hard, separating the head from the spine. "Didn't work.

"Real chainmail used forged links, each one of which is riveted into place. Often times, the links would be doubled-up as well, for greater reinforcement and protection. And it was usually made of a stronger steel. But all of that costs money, so most costume chainmail is made of galvanized steel wire wrapped in coils and cut into unriveted links," I went on. I reached carefully down with a gloved hand and showed Carlos the broken links in the forearm, where a pus-oozing bite wound could be seen under the thin linen undershirt. "It can turn one bite. . . maybe even a few. But it only takes one bad link to get a tooth in and the virus into the bloodstream."

"Plus, chainmail's fucking heavy," Jim said. "Good suit weighs about. . . what? 20 pounds? That's an extra 20 pounds of weight that you don't want to be lugging around."

"And then there's the sword," I said. "You ever try swinging a sword around? It's not exactly easy. And most swords were designed to penetrate armor, not take off a head in one go. You'd be better off with a hammer or an axe."

"And that's assuming the sword is well made and not a wall-hanger made for display purposes," Jim agreed. "Which this one clearly was." He kicked the bent sword into the gutter.

"Stick to a machete from the Home Depot. Or a sharpened shovel," I said. "You can use those as tools, too."

"Crowbar works fine as well," Jim said.

The three of us continued our patrol through the abandoned streets of downtown Buena Park together.