3 of 7: Helpful Hints to Prepare for the Apocalypse

This is a seven part series outlining survival techniques based on Maslow's hierarchy (beginning with physiological needs). In the final segments (self-actualization and self-fullfilment) I'll work my way into team building culture, role diversification/intelligent responsibility-delegation, and, above all, leadership techniques.

It’s been days, weeks, months since Satan has waged his war on humanity and you’ve finally become accustomed to your daily routine: it’s a never-ending daily cycle: you wake up to the cacophonous screaming of demons dispensed from the depths of hell and the walking dead bereaving their miserable souls within the traps you’ve placed, then you dispense heavenly justice and re-set each trap tripped and carry on. You’re well armed now, having escaped to loot a local gun shop and an abandoned grocery superstore store loaded with caches of food. You have found a fresh water spring by plowing through a wall in the basement of your school and are supplemented by a large supply of bottled water. But, you've become depressed from the sounds and situations around you and you’re dreadfully lonely. One day, having followed the dim glow from the your high nesting ground, a mother and her child arrive, chased by a small hoard of living dead.

• LOVE AND BELONGING: After vanquishing their pursuers with your small arsenal of defences, you, cautiously, examine the couple’s physicality. You prod them both with a series of questions you’ve prepared for such a situation, determining to a small extent that they are actual living humans. Nevertheless, you request they both remain in detention for a time until you can be absolutely sure they pose a minimal threat. On the first day of their arrival, you prudently lower food into their gymnasium cage via a rudimentary pulley system you’ve crafted referencing library books; you include within this exchange a change of clothing from the lost-and-found, clean blankets from the school’s dormitory, and a book. The mother expresses she’s broken her reading glasses and cannot read on her own; her young daughter is terrified. So, you read them a book aloud, daily, from the school’s library and observe calmness wash over their faces with each word you speak. After a week, you’ve developed a rapport with both of them, and release them from their lockup. The previous looming feeling of emptiness has disappeared. For the first time in months, you feel hope. Suddenly, the morning screaming doesn’t seem as bad.