Zombie Tag: a game for groups

We invented this game as teenagers and its been a blast at family parties and group events ever since.

Game: Zombie Tag

Number of players: 5-50 (the more the better!)

Objective: Run or hide to stay alive!

Set up:

1- Choose your location. The BEST spot would be a forest at night or an office building after hours, lots of confined hallways and hiding spaces add to the realism and enjoyment of the game, but even places like basketball courts, parking lots, large fields, etc can still be a lot of fun. 

2- Randomly select someone to be "infected" (it works best if you can do this secretly so no one knows who is "it" at the beginning of the game)

3- Determine your boundaries (so people don't run too far away)

4- Turn off the lights or play at night- the darkness adds realism and makes the game amazing!

Rules:

-If you are not infected, you can run anywhere within the boundaries. 

-If you are not infected you cannot touch the infected or you become infected as well. 

-For safety, those who are not infected should only flee from the infected, not try to attack, hurt, or even defend themselves. 

-If you are infected you cannot run, only walk, shamble, or even crawl.  Its even better if you let out a few choice moans as you stumble along. 

-If someone who is infected touches you, you become infected!  Give a painful death chortle and collapse to the ground. Moments later, emerge from your fallen state as one of the undead!  

-Last person alive gets to start as the zombie for the next round. 

How to Play
Imagine the following: you're working at a call center or office area with cubes and small offices that stays open until 9pm.  After work everyone stays to play.  The lights are turned off, the chairs moved out of the way. Now the lights shut off and everyone starts running and hiding. You don't know who is infected, so as your eyes struggle to get used to the dark you are stumbling into people, keeping a safe distance as you debate in your mind "Are they a zombie?" You may run away together, you may separate ways.  You might even choose to hide somewhere. Soon you hear a cry in the dark.  "Aaarreghrghrhr" and then silence.

Whispers from your co-workers echo all around you. "Who was that?" and "It was over by Bill's office!" You now know there are two zombies out there. Another cry in the dark. Three!  Soon cries all around let you know that you are outnumbered.  You keep running, stopping short as you meet a walker in your path. Changing directions, you weave through the cubes, maybe even jumping over a desk or two in an attempt to stay alive. Two in front of you. They can't run like you can, and you easily dodge their lunging hands.

You start getting a little tired and realize that your options are getting slim. You choose your hallways carefully, keeping them safely away from you, but its becoming more difficult. Almost everyone is infected now, and you are starting to run out of breath. These Zombies aren't tired at all, and they seem to be getting hungrier. The nearer they get the more they moan, the closer their sweeping arms come to touching you. One wrong choice and you will join their ranks. Soon you are cornered, the horde closing in on you. Their hands touch your shirt and you let out your own death moan, spurred on by a combination of exhaustion and laughter at how much fun this is.

Now you join the ranks. There's only one or two left, and as you shamble along, you see how tired those few left really are. They run along the lengths of the room, but everywhere they go, a zombie is waiting. It's not a matter of speed or agility, its not cunning or survival skills, its simply inevitability. You walk slowly, turning toward them as they change directions, watching them as you close in on their location. Soon you feel your own hands close around their arm. Success!

Lights go on, laughter echoes through the group as moments are recounted and shared, and you hear the excitement as people share how surprised they were at how scared they found themselves. "Okay, let's go again!" A cry is heard, and the final survivor smiles.  "You're all going to die!" You hear them say as the lights go out. You've got to find a place to hide!

SurviveTheZomb THE OFFICE GAME

Wish the Zombie Apocalypse was here now?  Now you can pretend like it is with the SURVIVETHE ZOMB Office Game!

BACK STORY:

We've just learned that the nearby buildings been overrun by ZOMBIES!  We do not believe the infection has spread to this building, but we are setting up quarantine areas to keep everyone safe. BEWARE! If you step outside of the quarantine area we cannot guarantee your safety!

GAME SETUP: QUARANTINE AREAS
Use caution tape to "mark" specific quarantine areas where you do NOT want your game to be played.  This is great for areas where play may disturb the business day and distract workers from their duties.  Places like break rooms or common areas can be"outside" the quarantine zone, so once they step outside the boundaries, they are playing the game!  Here are some signs you can print to help clearly identify these areas:

Print this sign and place it on the inside of your caution tape to tell people that "once you're outside this area, the game is afoot!"

Print this sign and place it on the outside of your caution tape to tell people that "once you cross this line you are safe!"

GAME START: CARD DISTRIBUTION
HUMANS

-Most people will start as a healthy human.  Your job is to stay healthy!  

-If a zombie asks to see your card you can use any weapons or other items you have to attack it or even kill it.

-If you are able to kill the zombie then you keep it's card as a "trophy" 

-Be aware that every encounter with a zombie results in an infection!  If you cannot find a way to heal yourself, you will become a zombie!

-If you become a zombie you must give your card to the zombie who fully infected you.  

Most people should start as humans.  We recommend 80% or more start as humans.  Humans should receive a human profile card and one random item like a weapon, defense, or medicine.  You can also hide additional item cards around the office to make people "scavenge" for supplies.  This can be very effective for drawing attention to message boards or getting people to attend meetings on time.

Most people should start as humans.  Print these cards and give them to each  person designated to start as human.  Note the "infection level" on each card- this will show how much infection the human can take before they become a zombie!

BONUS ITEMS

-If you start as a human you will also receive a card with a bonus item. It may be a weapon, medicine, or other defensive item. Your bonus will include directions for using it.

-As a human you can team up with other humans to share or trade resources. This can only be done outside the quarantine area.

-These items can only be used outside the quarantine area, but since most have a limited use, be cautious about where and when you use them. In some cases you may find other humans who carry items that can refill or repair your item.

-If you become infected, you will not be allowed to use or trade your bonus items until you have been fully healed. If you become "fully infected" you must give your bonus items and profile card to the zombie who fully infected you.

-You may also hide resources in various locations. You could put clues to the locations of these items in a weekly newsletter or in an important e-mail.  This also gets people reading the various communications you have for your business day.  

Each human should also receive one random card, either an item or a weapon.  Item cards can be traded or given away as long as the human has not been infected.  Instructions for use are located on each card.  

Each human should also receive one random card, either an item or a weapon.  Weapon cards can be traded or given away as long as the human has not been infected.  Instructions for use are located on each card.

ZOMBIES
Some people in the office will be designated as "Zombies" and will start by spreading their infection to as many humans as they can!

If you are a zombie, your card will show your "infection" level. This is how much damage you can receive before you die, and how much you infect a human if you encounter one. It is your mission to infect as many humans as you can! When you infect a human you get to take their card and any items they carry as “trophies.” The goal is to collect as many trophies as you can! 

Zombie cards should be given in secret.  If the humans know who the zombies are they will group together and attack!  Zombies do not receive any extra bonus cards.  

If a human is infected and cannot heal or cure himself before the allotted time, he/she becomes a Zombie runner.  Be sure to print extra Zombie runner cards for the humans who get infected.  These can be left at a common area like with a receptionist or manager.  

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
1- Approach someone and ask to see their profile card.
2- If they are not an enemy you can make trades or create alliances as appropriate.
3- If they are an enemy then you must attack each other. The person initiating the conversation gets to take their turn first.
4- Damage given is equal to the power level of the weapon or the infection level of the zombie. 
5- Follow the instructions on your card for more details. There is no way to avoid damage or infection unless you have a special item that dictates otherwise.
6- If you are killed by the attack then you must give your profile card and any bonus items you hold to your opponent as a “trophy” of their win.
7- Items earned as “trophies” cannot be reused or reissued. 
8- In the event of a “tie” where both human is fully infected and the zombie is killed, both exchange profile cards as trophies. 
9- Humans that are fully infected become zombies. These individuals should obtain a new "Zombie Runner" profile card.  
10- Zombies that are killed are eliminated from the game.
11- If a Zombie survives the encounter his damage is automatically reset.
12- If the Zombie's attack infects the human but does not fully infect them they should follow up with the human to see if they were able to heal themselves.  If not, the zombie should be given the human profile card and any items/weapons as trophies. 

TIPS:

You can attack or be attacked any time you leave the quarantine areas. Be ready for these attacks, and defend yourself if you can using your bonus items. You may also decide to leave in groups, using each other’s resources to attack or defend yourselves. 

More questions?  Love the game?  Feedback?  Leave a comment below!

Chapter 45- Rats in a Cage

I pushed the headless corpse off my chest and suppressed the urge to add my vomit to the pool of blood pouring out of what was left of its neck. I was drenched in blood, sticky and foreign. I struggled to my feet, looking down at my clothes.  I was covered in it, and the thought that it was teeming with some virus that turned people into...  I shivered.  The shopkeeper didn't seem to react, as though he'd been doing this for years.  Perhaps he has.

Looking toward the playground, I saw the others gathering around the woman who had been trying to protect the children. They were huddled over her, arms flailing about, but it was more than just tearing her apart...  I squinted and tried to focus. "Are they... eating her?" I had seen a few zombie movies in my day, but the fake blood and overacted stumbling did not prepare me for this. My thoughts immediately returned to Tracy, alone upstairs this entire time. How could I have been so stupid? I should have kept her with me. I'd let myself become too distracted by this place, it's size, the technology, their knowledge of what was going on, and of course... that thing downstairs that used to be my mother.

"We've got to get back up." I said. I turned toward the door behind us and looked at him expectantly. "Open this, will you?" I asked impatiently. He looked a little nervous as he glanced from me back to the creatures feasting at the playground. "Don't got my keycard." He said. I could hear both guilt and reluctance in his voice. I asked where it was but he stood there silently.  I held up the one I had pulled from the man lying at our feet "We can use this, right?" I triumphantly slid the card through the reader. An amber light flashed, displaying the words "Card accepted- please verify PIN" and I watched in helpless sadness as a digital counter timed out, followed by the red flashing words "Access Denied." The shopkeeper shrugged as though he expected this. "Don't work without the code." He said matter-of-factly. I tossed the useless card to the ground and watched it disappear in the puddle of gore.

"We can't be trapped, there has to be a contingency plan." I said, looking around. "Is there a manual escape route?" The shopkeeper still just stared at the huddle of death feasting a few yards away. "Place is designed to be impenetrable, or to act like a quarantine in case, well, this happened.  The ladder past this door is the only way out, and the door only opens if the power is off." I looked around. "Where are the breakers?" He shook his head. "Ain't easy at all. Triple redundancy.  Three different generators, all in different parts of the building. Even if you flip the breaker one of them will cut on immediately." I looked around, not seeing anything that even remotely resembled a generator or power switch. "Where are they?" He used his shotgun to direct my attention to the lab I had visited when I first arrived.  "One's in there, in a maintenance closet." He pointed to the other door on the opposite wall that led down to the holding areas. "Second is inside the control room." He bit his lip pensively. "The third is... back there." He thumbed behind us, through the very door we couldn't get through.

The feeling of claustrophobia began to return. Could we really be trapped? They surely had thought of this contingency, right? I looked over at the monsters who seemed to be losing interest in their meal. Any moment their attention could divert to us, and I knew a single shotgun wasn't much of a tactical advantage, especially in someone else's hands. "So we need to do something" I said feeing anxious. "We can't just wait here and wait for them to notice us." He nodded and looked around, searching for the right way to get started.  "There" he said, pointing to the last house on the left. "Clyde McIntyre. He's the one who makes the badges and assigns the access levels.  I don't know if he's 3A, but if he's still around he can make me a new card."

We kept our backs to the wall and our eyes on the pack of cannibalistic monsters who now began to wander around the playground. They seemed almost bored or maybe even tired, like family milling around the house after a particularly filling thanksgiving dinner. One rubbed it's stomach idly. Their heads flopped from one side to the other, like they no longer had the strength in their necks to hold them upright, and they seemed to look idly about, never directly at anything, as though their vision was so blurred that nothing was discernible.  Their sense of hearing seemed hyper acute, however, and any small sound caused them to pause, listening intently, like a blind person might do. Their thick infected eye sockets were caked with yellow puss that oozed down their faces, and their mouths, clothes, and hands were covered in that poor woman's blood. One was still chewing on something hanging from its mouth.  Was it a finger? Again I suppressed the urge to vomit, and tore my eyes away from the gruesome scene.

We moved slowly along the wall to the right until the first house obscured us from their view. Once hidden, we dashed quickly but silently through the back yard, pausing before we crept behind the next house.  We repeated this process until we had moved to the opposite end of the cavern.  Crossing the turf to the opposite row, we moved to the last house on the left and peered into the window. A figure was crouched behind the kitchen counter, only his eyes and balding head visible. "Clyde!" My brusque companion called out in a loud whisper, tapping the barrel of his shotgun lightly on the glass. The head popped up, revealing a small stocky man wearing a green lab coat. "Shorty? Is that you?" His voice was nervous and his hands shook, white knuckles wrenching around the handle of a golf club. "What's happened?  Where is everyone?" The shopkeeper, who apparently has the nickname of "Shorty" whispered back.  "3A.  Its taken over most of the staff."  Clyde looked down on his coat, where a name tag with a large 7B stood out.  "That means we're next." He said, gripping his golf club with resolve.  A noise drew his eyes toward the door.  We ducked down just in time to see Whitney burst through the door.  Bits of flesh and meat were caught in her mottled brown hair and her eyes were glazed and swollen. She scanned the room slowly. Her lips curl back in an angry snarl, revealing swollen gums and blood stained teeth, but she does not move.  Cocking her head to the side, she waits, listening.

The doctor stumbles in the door behind her, equally soaked in blood. The two begin to move slowly  but awkwardly through the house, their stumbling bodies navigating past the couch and toward the kitchen. We can see the head of Clyde's golf club behind the counter, shaking nervously.  I bite my lip, hoping they'll move on, and Clyde peeks up over the counter, looking at us for guidance.  He looks agitated and restless, and Shorty shakes his head, motioning to him to stay low behind the counter. Clyde's nerves overtake his patience, and he stands up suddenly, yelling the best battle cry a technician can muster.  He swings his golf club wildly, missing both Whitney and the doctor completely.  Both monsters are instantly drawn toward him, and I stand up desperately, banging on the glass in an attempt to draw them away. "Over here!" I call out. They do not even acknowledge my presence and swarm poor Clyde in a flurry of fingernails and teeth. He screams, his voice carrying out of the house and into the cavern. As they tear into him he looks back at us. "8410!" He screams at the top of his lungs, holding his arm straight up into the air.  "8410!" In his hand is a keycard.

Chapter 44- Playground Bullies

"How are you here to help me?" I asked in disbelief. "All you've done is attack us and lie to us, erasing our memories and stealing our cars!" I could tell my tone was not only sharp but judgmental, but that she fully expected this reaction and wasn't bothered by it. She smiled patiently, waiting for me to finish. Seeing her calm demeanor I relaxed a bit, and began to feel more curious than angry. Why wasn't she being defensive? Why wasn't she angry at my accusations? I looked into her eyes. They seemed calm and patient, unmistakably wise for someone who appeared to be so young. "Are you done?" She asked, almost amused at my tirade. I took a deep breath and asked one last question. "How can you possibly claim you've been helping?" She directed my attention to the kids playing on the playground. "Do you see what's missing from that picture?" She asked. I looked at the kids racing up the steps and gliding down the slide. "They seem happy, right?" I looked back at her, trying to discern her meaning. "Those children don't belong to those women." I looked at the ladies cheerfully digging in their little garden. They chatted together like lifelong freinds. "Their biological parents are downstairs, victims of infection." I sat quietly, listening as she unfolded the details. "The first documented exposures were actually here in town, over by the city center." She directed my attention toward the upper corner of the room, reminding me again that we were underground. I immediately felt my muscles tighten at the thought of the hundreds of tons of rock and dirt suspended high above our heads. "They died almost immediately, but not before they infected an entire city block. We quarantined the entire Bungalow for a month to try and contain it." My jaw dropped. "That revitalization project was a cover up for an outbreak?" I asked in disbelief. She nodded and continued. "Those kids are the only survivors left. They are last remnants of that neighborhood, all the others are either infected or dead."

"We got another!" I heard a voice call out. My attention was immediately directed toward the playground, where one of the kids had stopped halfway up the ladder. He stood on the middle step, staring blankly out into nothing. The other kids crowded behind him, unaware of the situation and why it would prevent their playmate from taking his turn as expected. "Oh no," Whitney exclaimed, pulling out her phone and dialing a number. "Not one of the kids!" She cried, her voice sounding desperate and fearful.

The two women who had been gardening had moved toward the ladder, one visibly corralling the kids on the ground and the other trying to talk the kid down like a hostage negotiator. Whitney was speaking urgently on the phone. "Its Laura, the 8 year old" she said in an authoritative tone. She snapped her phone shut and moved cautiously toward the playground, as though crossing a minefield. "I don't know what group she belongs to." She said as she stepped cautiously onto the dark shredded rubber of the playground. She motioned to the mothers to pull the other children back, and took another step toward the slide. "Laura?" She called out timidly. "Laura, can you hear me?" The young girl turned her head toward us and we saw her eyes covered in a thick yellow coating. She twitched and stared in our direction, not at us, but beyond us, as though she could hear something, but could not discern its source.

Four men in Hazmat suits arrived, accompanied by the doctor I had met earlier. They carried the same restraining poles I had seen earlier but refrained from using them. Instead they surrounding the playground at the corners and waited patiently while the doctor approached. He was wearing thick rubber gloves and carried a small needle with an empty vial on the end. With expert swiftness he deftly leaned forward, took a sample of the young girl's blood and stepped back. He squeezed a drop onto a small piece of paper and watched as the red changed to purple and then to a brilliant electric blue. Whitney looked at the doctor in shock. "But she's 3A!" The doctor looked back at her, his face full of sorrow. "I thought we'd have more time, I'm sorry." The doctor's face had a look of fear and uncertainty. "What's a 3A?" I asked, but he didn't respond. He stared at the ID badge fastened to his chest pocket. A large red 3A was printed next to his name.

"What's 3A?" I asked again, turning to Whitney. Her usual confident smile was gone, replaced with the same look of fear and uncertainty the doctor wore. Her badge also had a 3A, and she stared at the ground as though paralyzed. I shook her, trying to get her attention. "What's 3A?" I cried, but she merely looked at me in sympathy. "We all are." She said, and her skin became almost instantly cold in my hands. I watched as the color left her face, her usual healthy pallor took on an eery ghostly white. He face was devoid of emotion and the light in her eyes faded as she seemingly slipped into a standing coma.

The young girl on the ladder suddenly began to move. She turned and stepped down the ladder slowly, her movements erratic and choppy, as though she was struggling to make her muscles move as they used to. She snarled at one of the kids who cowered behind its mother, and the woman shrank back in fear, tears filling her eyes as they darted to one of the men in Hazmat suits. "Do something!" she cried out, pleading vainly to the motionless figures surrounding the scene. I looked at the doctor and Whitney like frozen sentinels as their bodies processed the change. The men in Hazmat suits all seemed to be under the same spell, except one man who suddenly snapped into delirium. "It's just a child, how deadly could it really be?" He backed away slowly, lowering his restraining rod in uncertainty. I looked through the clear plastic window on his suit and saw the same fear in his eyes, exponentially magnified. He screamed, his voice muffled but still audible. He turned and ran, awkwardly stumbling over the restraining rod. As he fell the mask he wore flipped backward, exposing his face to the air. He looked around in terror, as though some unseen force had now grabbed him, then looked back at us and screamed again, running off in the opposite direction.

The infected child stepped down on the ground and was now approaching the man closest. She snarled, revealing thick swollen gums cracking with infection. She closed on him and he just stood there, refusing or unable to move. "Do something!" I called out, and looked to the doctor. He stood staring blankly, the familiar stare of the first stage chilling my heart. I looked at Whitney, and saw her eyes already glazed with a yellow film. The realization suddenly hit me. I backed away, looking at the mothers cowering over the children protectively. One of them suddenly cried out in pain. One of the children was biting into her leg, his small eyes filled with yellow rage. His fingers clawed at her desperately, though his bite wasn't strong enough to break the denim of her jeans. The other woman looked at her in panic and disbelief, backing away rather than getting involved. The instinct of self preservation seemed to outweigh any previous ties or relationships, and those not yet infected fled from those that were. As the boy's fingernails pierced the skin of her leg she screamed again, louder, and the noise reverberated through the massive man-made cavern. Her scream seemed to awaken those standing around us, and they all turned toward her in unison, as if in some macabre dance. They trudged purposefully yet mindlessly toward her, and she screamed and attempted in vain to break free.

As they closed in on her a klaxon sounded, accompanied by flashing yellow lights inside each home and mounted on walls. The other woman fled toward the front door of the nearest house, only to be met by a man in coveralls stumbling out of the entryway. She screamed as he enveloped her in his arms and crumpled to the ground on top of her.

The sirens were deafening but could not muffle the moans of the monsters tearing apart their fellows. In desperation I ran toward the only exit I knew, the door leading upstairs to the surplus shop. It was sealed tightly with a card reader and keypad next to it. I punched in a few numbers by chance and watched the screen turn red with the words "Access Denied." I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through window into the darkness beyond. There was no sign of light inside, no one to grant me access or freedom. I took a step back and noticed a reflection in the window, one of the men in a Hazmat suits, coming fast. I turned just as his hands grabbed at me and we collided against the door, my back slamming against the sharp corner of the keypad. His weight pushed me to the ground and I fended off his hands as he tried to grab my face. The small window in his mask revealed bloodshot eyes caked with yellow cataracts, and gums bursting with foam and puss. Spittle spattered across the plastic as he bellowed, infuriated at his inability to successfully lay hold of me.

His badge dangled from his chest, a thin keycard attached to a plastic strap. The angry face inside the mask barely resembled the smiling man depicted on the badge, and the 3A next to his name was spattered with the blood. I snatched the keycard and struggled to get free, but his flailing hands continually pushed me back down to the ground. His face slammed against my head, causing my vision to blur and darken. I could feel myself slipping out of consciousness when a loud sound rang in my ears. The weight on my chest doubled but ceased to move, and I could feel something warm and wet running down into my collar. In my haze I looked up to see the old shopkeeper standing above me, a smoking shotgun draped over his forearm. "You okay?" He asked, pushing a new shell into the barrel. He clicked it closed and looked toward the playground. "If you can get up, you better do it now."