But last week, while I was attending Blackhawk’s factory grand opening in Manhattan, MT, I used another level-2 retention holster that will soon be introduced by Blackhawk. I have to admit, it looks every bit as slick and regal as the Howells, yet during testing it was as effective as the original Serpa in preventing inadvertent loss of the handgun—whether to gravity or grabby Hollywood starlets like Ginger.

Unlike the Serpa, the second level of retention is not deactivated with the trigger finger. That trigger finger needs to remain parallel to the slide upon presentation, so I’ve never had a problem or a concern with the holster. Unfortunately, some people don’t feel the same way—most of them pontificating professors who haven’t built in the proper muscle memory, much less a working radio.

Blackhawk claims it is just expanding the line, not addressing criticism. Let’s face facts, with the 4 millionth Serpa being shipped in the next 4 to 8 weeks, the holster could well be the most popular ever created.

Don’t hold me to the name, because we were shooting prototypes that were collected, by serial number, after the event. GripBrake could just be a working title.

As you begin your draw, your thumb comes along your side to assume a master grip. A paddle (which on the production models is going to be bigger than the ones we used) rests close to your body, slightly above the spot your thumb needs to engage the grip. As you squeeze, the second level of retention is automatically disengaged, and pistol is free for presentation.

It may sound easy, but then again so does a 3-hour tour. I can tell there’s been a whole lot of research involved, and during the factory tour we did get to meet the engineers who create the modern marvels.

As was to be expected, the slightly smaller paddle in our prototypes and an all-new system made me look like Gilligan (trying to hoist his pants up over his head) during my initial draws. But with a competent skipper running the range time (Todd Jarrett), it wasn’t long until I had it figured out. Perhaps more importantly, the paddle didn’t interfere during movement drills or bruise a finely toned belly crafted after years of 12-ounce curls. In short, it works and it works well.

As you can tell by the photos, belt slots allow adjustment of cant and ride height. Expect to see leather versions first, although with the internal polymer paddle and mechanism, it’s really a hybrid (the protoype in the photo is leather). MSRP will be somewhere around $72. A nylon model will some in somewhere around $30 and a injection-molded variant will also be offered, in that order. Keep your fingers crossed and product should be on shelves sometime in January.

I know, I know, how could I forget Mary anne.

Blackhawk’s onto something pretty innovative with this new retention system and holster. So stay tuned.

I’d stumbled into the camp of the Veteran Zombie Hunters, a group of close friends who make this pilgrimage annually. This year they towed in a BBQ, bar, canopies, keg and matching nimble beer mistress to raise money for charity the night before the match. Guns had to be safely stored before you attended, and range personnel checked rule adherence with occasional strolls between Tiki torches and pink flamingoes while music played. The effort attracted a lot of attention—and donations—before a safety-conscious early closing time shuttered the doors.

It was a shooter’s version of a tailgater, except there were no arguments, cheeseheads, blitzburgh attitude and the real doomsday defense would hit the range tomorrow morning. No score is kept at Outbreak Omega, so smack talk about inter-conference rivalries was replaced with conversations about the latest optic, new AR or the blonde behind the bar.

Zombies are no match for Gangsters.

More than 1,000 were in attendance at the event, many of them camping out. One competitive shooter drove from Texas, another drove all night from Montana. There were brothers and sisters shooting together, best friends just back from a tour in the Sandbox, four generations of a family sleeping in a MASH-style tent and husbands, wives and kids.

There were even zombie babies.

The costumes worn by NFL fans pale in comparison to the game gear donned by these shooters. By dawn (of the dead), tactical gear ruled the range, but it was the accessories that set each “competitor” apart. One guy had a purple Mohawk. Another wore full ghillie all day. Three Mrs. Clever clones, complete with apron, poofy skirts and bouffant hair “competed” as the ’60s Housewife Zombie Slayers (although I never did see their mischievous son, Beaver). A handcuffingly stunning SWAT gal attracted swoons, and kilt-wearing shooters, well, let’s just say they were there. Here’s a closer look at some of the players.

Zombies and Silver Bullets don't mix well.

Some of the more interesting stages included the new zombie safari, sort of a road-hunting excursion, sans spotlighting. On another stage you were expected to shoot the zombies, then deliver and axe to noggin of the undead. Coffin-popping zombies, outhouse-attacking zombies, stranded-on-the-beach zombies, jail-breaking zombies….you get the gist. They were everywhere and eagerly awaiting the next lead rainstorm. I’d go on and on, but it’s probably best you get the real scoop by visiting the Outbreak Omega 5 website.

He's ready to literally mow them down.

There were pierced belly buttons, tattoos, tacos in a bag at the food stations (open a Frito bag, pour in chili, add sour cream and salsa as you like and you eat it with a spoon), firepower aplenty, a full-auto side match that raised money for wounded servicemen and women, a 30-foot talking moose (oddly mute during my visit), riding mowers with machine guns, plenty of parking, ARs, AUGs, SCARs, just about everything a gun guy needs for a fun weekend, including discounted Remington ammo! Sweet.

Topping it all off was the awards ceremony. No score is kept, so special “Zombie Head” trophies are given in recognition to the best-dressed shooters. Then hundreds of prizes, including firearms, optics and gear bags are given away in a random drawing—staying true to the event’s fun theme.

Outbreak Omega isn’t anything like I expected. Odds are pretty good it’s not what you think, either. It’s a whole lot more fun than risking your life. I can’t wait to go back—sometimes it’s good to be expendable.

We have no idea what this young lady is checking out.