Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Zombies Part One

The zombie in front of her, wearing the tattered remains of white sequined wedding dress, clamped onto her non-stone arm leaving painful furrows in the tender flesh. She immediately shifted the injured arm to stone, healing away the abrasions as if they’d never been. Then, using her free stone arm she lopped off the zombie bride’s head and send it rolling—wedding veil and all.

If she could remove most of the heads, they’d be forced to grope around.

Before she could take down more than two of the zombies in front of her, a shotgun blast sounded next to her causing her to jump. She whipped her head to the side in time to see the zombie to her right explode, or at least the head. She sheltered her face against the spray of bone and rotted flesh and then turned to see where the gunshot originated.

There on the porch stood Logan McAllister, his feet comfortably set apart, a pump-action shotgun cradled against his right shoulder like a familiar lover. As she watched, fascinated, he squeezed off another shot and pumped the shotgun, ejecting a spent shell. Then he fed another cartridge of double aught buckshot into the chamber. He looked like a man who knew how to use a firearm.

“Damn! Why couldn’t he stay in the house?” she asked the nearest zombie, a nearly six-footer who resembled a Jack-o-lantern in that every other tooth was missing. In answer, it squeezed its rotted hands around her neck, an ever tightening vice that threatened to snap her spine. Without conscious thought, stone rippled along her neck, thwarting Jack’s efforts to choke the life from her. She reached around to grab both of Jack’s shoulders and ripped his arms from their sockets. Jack grunted, but the hands stubbornly refused to release her neck, so she left the arms hanging down like lumpy long necklaces.
“Don’t you know when to give up?”

From Triskelion Publishing


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