The zombie movie craze may have slowed a bit since Twilight's vampires took on the role of monster du jour, but the recent hype surrounding the $70-budget Cannes sensation Colin only proves that the genre, like the undead themselves, won’t go down easy. And thank goodness for that. After all, if the constant threat of the next neo-zombie revival weren't lumbering outside, ready to burst through the wall at any moment, we wouldn't get events like the Alamo Drafthouse's cast reunion and director's cut screening of '80s horror classic Night Of The Creeps on Saturday, June 13. With so many fake zombies preparing to descend upon our city, Decider thought it might be a good time to share some survival tips should the real things ever decide to wreck our own never-ending party.

Identifying zombie ground zero
As far as we know, there are no desecrated burial grounds in Austin—though if the mixed-use development trend continues, who knows? But we're certainly susceptible to attacks borne of science run amok, as in 28 Days Later, Planet Terror, and Return Of The Living Dead. Also, no one's safe from an outbreak of the "possessed by an alien slug" brand of zombie as seen in Night Of The Creeps. Austin's probably more at risk from science-based zombies, with PPD, Cedra, Covance, and Radiant Research testing all manner of strange experimental drugs on the desperate and destitute. As any professional lab rat can attest, it's not hard to imagine an unsuspecting volunteer suddenly developing a taste for brains after ingesting what he thought was a cholesterol pill. If it is a space slug zombie infestation, however, Mount Bonnell is a likely starting point, where the initial attack will no doubt be on a pair of teenagers getting up to some after-hours funny business.

Knowing where to hide
Some places are safer than others, and when it comes to camping out, no zombie-defying stronghold is complete without a little thinly veiled cultural criticism. Austin already has several varieties of half-dead, drooling drones that are ripe for a Romero-style potshot. First and foremost are those consumerist cadavers at the Arboretum, shuffling brainlessly from one chain outlet to the next. The Arboretum could supply survivalists with almost anything their still-beating hearts desire. Though, the ROT Biker Rally is upon us, which means you'd have to contend not only with the legions of hell, but the legions of Hell's Angels as well. Malls also tend to be tough to defend, so maybe you should just skip shopping altogether and head to another bastion of mindless consumption: Sixth Street. An area prone to looking like a war zone on any given weekend, complete with vomit stench and stumbling creeps, it may be hard to discern between the zombie holocaust and bar closing time, but like Shaun Of The Dead demonstrated, if you've got to wait out the end of the world, there's no better place to do it than in a pub with your mates. Lanai and Six both have excellent rooftop verandas, great for witnessing the carnage below, but if you can make it further toward the outskirts, both Shangri-La and Hole In The Wall's fenced-in perimeters probably make them the best bet for grabbing a pint and avoiding a bite.

Getting out of Dodge
Once you've run out of supplies and it's apparent that the National Guard isn't coming to save you, then it's time to make a break to less populated pastures. (If FEMA couldn't handle Katrina, it's doubtful they'll fare much better against an army of the undead.) Sure, South Austin will have a few holdouts standing on their lawns with shotguns, hollering, "If I learned to live with the Californians, goddamn it, I'll learn to live with the dead," but for everyone else, it's time to go. Really, what's the point in staying in the "Live Music Capital Of The World" once everybody's dead? Gather your still-living loved ones and plot your escape. I-35 is a stop-and-go mess even when there’s not a major crisis, so it seems doubtful to be a viable route out of the city. So if not by land, then perhaps by sea or air: Helicopters are the No. 1 choice of fleeing survivors the world over, and Austin has more than a few helipads for you to fight your way toward. Luckily, the average Austinite doesn't have a clue how to fly one of these things—so taking lessons now will officially secure your place on the "Protect This Guy!" list. Then again, zombies tend to invoke Murphy's law with unnerving frequency, so it's pretty much inevitable that the pilot is going to get chomped, and you'll have to switch to plan C. Escaping by water has several possibilities: You could kayak to safety down Lady Bird Lake, or commandeer a party barge and drop anchor in the middle of Lake Austin. With occasional trips back to shore to stock up on Lone Star and canned goods, you could float out the rest of your days in relative safety—because everybody knows zombies don't do well underwater.