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…)
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The man was big; they called him ‘Bear’ or ‘Papa Bear’. Stan thought about male bears and hoped that he was a papa wolf, instead… in the Zombie Apocalypse, such a big guy had done better than most, bashing in undead skulls and keeping beyond their cold hands with the reach of the tree limb pruning-hook that he was carrying. It looked like serious hurt. (more…)
“Some days you just want to walk out there and let the zombies munch on ya… Not!”
Nobody laughed. The skinny man with the smile that didn’t reach his eyes poured his last drop of hot sugar-water into the coals. They were out of coffee, tea, out of everything. Time to get on the road, do some scavenging. He turned to the joker.
“You are hilarious, Kermit, just freaking hysterically funny…”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Ski!” (more…)
Exposure. That was what they called it in Mother Constance’s Kingdom of God. God ruled and Mother Constance was his Primate, Holy Reverend Mother to her people and a shepherdess to her flock. Wolves in sheep’s clothing were to be exposed and put out of the fold. Exile by any other name in the Zombie-Apocalypse was just as cold.
It was murder. (more…)
“Are you there, God? It’s me, Bob. I expect that you’re rather busy- it’s Hell on Earth here… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t mock you. You know all the mysteries. I- I’m just a man. Mortal, fallible, afraid… sick to death for me and mine. They’re all I have, Lord. Watch over us and protect us. Amen.”
-Bob, Zombie Hunter (more…)
Hungry. There’s nothing to eat but us, and Zeke already knows that.
We got caught by a herd. Don’t know how or why, but lately the zombies have started to congregate, to gather and move in schools like fish, or flocks of birds. Emergent phenomena, Doc Black says. He was a biologist of some kind, before. (more…)
‘No matter how strong I get, I can’t protect them. The realization cuts my heart like cold steel… If fate is a millstone, then we are the grist. There is nothing we can do. So I wish for strength. If I cannot protect them from the wheel, then give me a strong blade, and strength to shatter fate.’ -Ichigo Kurosaki, BLEACH vol. 23
Joseph paused, mid-stroke, and put the knife and whet-stone aside. He knew the sight of himself, with a knife in hand, made most people nervous. He turned in his seat at the work bench, his hand not far from the weapon, and said to Kowalski, “Yes, ‘sergeant’?” (more…)
THE DESIGNATED HITTERS LAMENT by Vincent L Cleaver
January 17, 2010 Short stories Tags: Vincent L Cleaver
A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story
Joseph had seen them heading out to check out the zombies hanging around No. 4 wind turbine; ‘Sarge’, ‘Gomer’ and Barnes, the rancher that they’d hooked up with two days back. The ranch had five wind turbines built on easements leased to a Texas power utility, and the ranch was unlikely to ever be without power. They had power, and a good, deep well; now they needed food, some kind of fence, and a lot more; an endless list. (more…)