How did I meet Rosie? Well, it wasn’t under normal circumstances – the world being the way it is. It wasn’t through mutual friends for example, or in a nightclub or at a party. No, I met her in a romantic slime filled ditch. She was the one in the ditch, by the way. Not me. (more…)
WARNING: Stories on this site may contain mature language and situations, and may be inappropriate for readers under the age of 18.
Sequel to Part 4
“Which way I fly is Hell; myself, I am Hell;”
If you are reading this, one of two things has happened. Either Sachs has had me killed, or, I have been locked in the Shed. (more…)
The third house down the street was crawling with the walking dead, three or four of which we could see and there even were more inside of the place. I thought I could hear a little crying. It could have been a man, courage and mind fled. The sound was enough to move a hard heart to pity. I have me and mine, my plucky little band of survivors, to look after, but sometimes it pays to cast a little bread upon the waters. (more…)
Vigilance watched Prudence’s slender hands as she held the rod, her index finger caressing the line. Every time they fished he was amazed how she could tell the tremors caused by the gentle waves from those of a fish nibbling at her worm. Her hand twitched and she started reeling in the line. (more…)
SEQUEL TO PART 3
“By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair”
Martin stared intently at the lone Colonel, and the soldier stared back. Martin watched as he stood with arms folded behind his back and chest out, a stern look on his face. It occurred to Martin that this was a man who loved power. He had seen the same stance, the same impassive look in African Generals and tin pot dictators, as their soldiers committed untold atrocities in front of his eyes. It was a look that challenged all who would stand against him. Under normal circumstances Martin would change that look to pitiful pleading.
The new world–or maybe its still the old world–is all about silence. The quieter you are, the less chance you have of attracting attention from the dead.
“Let’s play the quiet game,” I said. (more…)
HUNGER IN THE DEEP DARK WOODS: THE CONCLUSION By Mike Buckendorf
September 25, 2012 Longer stories Tags: Mike Buckendorf, military
“Well, I think the whole situation is verruckt, fucking crazy.” Horst crossed his arms and sulked in the back of the American deuce-and-a-half truck as it bounced along the road back towards Ornel.
Burkhardt rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. You’ve always been a complainer. Do you know that?”
“Jah,” Rudi nodded impatiently. “You’ve never been satisfied with anything the entire time I’ve know you, Horst. What is the problem anyway? I thought the whole idea was to surrender to the Amis or the Tommies and sit out the last few weeks of the war. Well, we have and we’re still alive. Mission accomplished!” (more…)
SEQUEL TO LONESOME
One Month After The Darkness – Salvation
How many times have I been down this road and never noticed this place? It’s not exactly hidden, but I also haven’t been through here in years. I pull the pickup on to the shoulder, kicking up long undisturbed dust as I squeeze the truck to a stop. I step out, grabbing my 9mm and the keys before closing and locking the door. You can never be too safe; things just aren’t the way they used to be.
Fouchet stared at the dusty road ahead, saw the combined shadow of him and his horse lengthen before them and dug his heels into the scrawny sides of the weary animal. The horse let out a high, thin whinny; it was nearing the end of its strength, the sides of its neck streaked with froth. Without proper rest it would not last more than a day, two if fortune smiled on its rider. But Fouchet had no time to waste; he spurred the mount onward in desperate hope of finding shelter for the night.
Lush green meadows and forests stretched unbroken for miles. It was a lovely, warm spring day, the fragrant breeze of the grass and flowers thick in the air; yet the unnatural silence cast an ominous hue over the idyllic scenery. No birds sang in the canopies, nothing rustled in the verdant shrubs. In a few hours the treacherous sun that shone so warmly now would sink into the tree-tops and darkness would descend, thick and impenetrable. He could not see in the darkness. They could. (more…)
THERE IS NO REASON TO SEEK ADVENTURE By Keith McCleary
August 16, 2012 Longer stories Tags: Unique Format
The research is still going on in earnest at Easter Island. I didn’t know this before she told me, and with few exceptions no one that I’ve related the information to has had prior knowledge of it either.
In fact, I’ve discovered that the most predictable response to news that the international scientific community still, after all this time, is in search of a Cure has nothing to do with the Infection at all. Instead, most people look at me in shock and say, “Easter Island? That place is real?? And they do science there??” (more…)