Showing posts with label post apocalyptic survival fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label post apocalyptic survival fiction. Show all posts

Legion of the Damned Excerpt

Just another little taste to whet your appetite. I hope you enjoy it.

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Excerpt:

Falling to his hands and knees he struggled to catch his breath as the cold that had invaded him drained away into the concrete floor beneath him. The image of the stranger was still fixed in his mind as Window became aware of his surroundings, starting with the ever present stench of death that seemed to permeate everything. The floor beneath his hands was coarse, filthy, stained with a dark substance, a black splotch in the faint light filtering through the slats of the building around him.

To his right was a table, half hidden in shadows, cobwebs gathered among the legs, moving gently in a soft breeze coming from somewhere on his left. Crawling to the table he reached up with one hand to pull himself up, but he jerked his hand back when it came into contact with a cold, gelatinous, substance that stained his flesh black. Instead he used the legs to pull himself to his feet, and stood unsteadily for a moment as his head throbbed. From the shadows around him came the faint sound of distant footsteps that sparked a momentary panic. Like the sound of a stone skipping across the surface of a silent pond, the footsteps faded in and out of focus in the deep shadows that surrounded him.

He was right there, on the other side of that thin veil separating mankind from the insanity that waited just beyond view. He felt his presence, and all he had to do was reach through to pull him back across.

The thought sent Window staggering back. He stumbled into something hanging from the ceiling that moved in response to his touch. It bumped into his back as the soft sound of steel rubbing against steel came form the darkness above his head.  He spun around and saw the torso of a body hanging from a steel hook. 

End Excerpt

Synopsis:

Hell was coming to Paradise!


In a remote desert world that bore little semblance to their own, the boys corner and kill Nickoli. Unfortunately the act fails to release Window from his curse, and they discover that a much higher price must be paid to free him.

Struggling to silence the voices from his past, Billie-Bob’s drinking results in his capture by the family of cannibals he once escaped from. This time he is taken to Paradise, a small compound along one of the many tributaries leading to the Chesapeake Bay. For those who lived there it was truly a paradise on earth, for its captives it was a different story as they were reduced to nothing more than livestock to feed a growing population.

While following the trail left by Billie-Bob’s captors, Meat, Window and Einstein come upon the shattered remnants of the church that had given them shelter on their trek north. Many of the church’s inhabitants had perished in the attack, but most of the children had been able to escape. They join the boys on their journey south to rescue Billie-Bob, and exact their vengeance on those who had shattered their peaceful existence.

Hell was coming to Paradise, and there would be no denying its vengeance.


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Dreadland Chronicles

There are worlds beyond our own, existing for purposes outside of our understanding, where gods roam unfettered by the earthly restraints placed upon us. Where right is wrong, where the laws of physics have been turned upon their ear, and not everything that goes up, comes back down. Places where magic rules, and technology is but a faint memory from a distant past.

Fourteen years ago a cataclysm shook the realms of this multiverse as a rising tide of evil rose up to battle those in power. Many of the worlds ceased to exist in the blink of an eye. On our world the dead walked, bringing society to its knees. The technology we had taken for granted stopped working as a new dark age filtered across the land. An age of unrestrained brutality where the only law was the firepower one carried, and the only hope was for a quick death followed by a dreamless sleep.


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Legion of the Damned Preorder

It's here! It's here!

Well not really, not quite yet, but Legion of the Damned is available for pre order at a special low price. I've also lowered the prices of All Roads Lead to Terror and The Reaping. Grab all three for less than the regular price of one. Over five hundred pages of post apocalyptic, coming of age, horror for less than three bucks. But you better hurry because this deal won't last long.

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Synopsis:

In a remote desert world that bore little semblance to their own, the boys corner and kill Nickoli. Unfortunately the act fails to release Window from his curse, and they discover that a much higher price must be paid to free him.

Struggling to silence the voices from his past, Billie-Bob’s drinking results in his capture by the family of cannibals he once escaped from. This time he is taken to Paradise, a small compound along one of the many tributaries leading to the Chesapeake Bay. For those who lived there it was truly a paradise on earth, for its captives it was a different story as they were reduced to nothing more than livestock to feed a growing population.

While following the trail left by Billie-Bob’s captors, Meat, Window and Einstein come upon the shattered remnants of the church that had given them shelter on their trek north. Many of the church’s inhabitants had perished in the attack, but most of the children had been able to escape. They join the boys on their journey south to rescue Billie-Bob, and exact their vengeance on those who had shattered their peaceful existence.

Hell was coming to Paradise, and there would be no denying its vengeance.

Click on cover for more info or to order!

All Roads Lead to Terror is also an audiobook.
Check it out HERE.

Click on cover for more info or to order! 


     
      

The Dreadlands

 There are worlds beyond our own, existing for purposes outside of our understanding, where gods roam unfettered by the earthly restraints placed upon us. Where right is wrong, where the laws of physics have been turned upon their ear, and not everything that goes up, comes back down. Places where magic rules, and technology is but a faint memory from a distant past.

Fourteen years ago a cataclysm shook the realms of this multiverse as a rising tide of evil rose up to battle those in power. Many of the worlds ceased to exist in the blink of an eye. On our world the dead walked, bringing society to its knees. The technology we had taken for granted stopped working as a new dark age filtered across the land. An age of unrestrained brutality where the only law was the firepower one carried, and the only hope was for a quick death followed by a dreamless sleep.

It is into this old new world these boys have been born. Coming together in a friendship that will be tested as they experience the brutality of a time that has lost all hope for the future. 

March Free Book Giveaway

This month I will be giving away one personally autographed print copy of book one in the Dreadland Chronicles, All Roads Lead to Terror: Coming of age in a post apocalyptic world.

February's winner has been selected and contacted.

The only way to enter is to join my mailing list. So sign up today and on April first I might be contacting you. And even if I don't win this month, you still get a free ebook just for signing up and you're automatically entered for every subsequent drawing.


All Roads Lead to Terror Cover

Synopsis:

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present.

There are worlds beyond our own, existing for purposes outside of our understanding, where gods roam unfettered by the earthly restraints placed upon us. Where right is wrong, where the laws of physics have been turned upon their ear, and not everything that goes up, comes back down. Places where magic rules, and technology is but a faint memory from a distant past.

Fourteen years ago a cataclysm shook the realms of this multiverse as a rising tide of evil rose up to battle those in power. Many of the worlds ceased to exist in the blink of an eye. On our world the dead walked, bringing society to its knees. The technology we had taken for granted stopped working as a new dark age filtered across the land. An age of unrestrained brutality where the only law was the firepower one carried, and the only hope was for a quick death followed by a dreamless sleep. 

On the day of his birth the dead walked and society crumbled. His mother took one look at him and pronounced him Meat. He survived, she didn't.

Fourteen years have passed and obscurity means survival in an increasingly dangerous world. For the survivors compound at Bremo Bluff that obscurity is threatened when a savage band abducts a group of children from the compound.

Accompanied by his three friends Window, Einstein, and Billie-Bob, Meat embarks on a quest to rescue the children. A journey that will lead them into adulthood, with a brief detour through the Dreadlands, as they confront the harsh reality of a brutal world beyond the barriers that had served to protect them.

In the dead city of Richmond Meat and his friends will confront a savage cult of children who worship a creature of the night. These creatures, once considered the nightmare imaginings of a fevered mind, are now awake in a world where the population that once served as their food source has been severely reduced.

Awake and very, very, hungry. 

Till Death Do We Part: Part III




Image via Freestuff


Have you missed the other parts?

Part One                   Part Two

Do you have the will to survive?

Virgil came at him from the right and Eddie stuck his pistol under his chin, then pulled the trigger. Drawn by the sound of gunshots, his neighbor in back staggered down the road towards him.

Throwing his gear into his pick-up, Eddie slipped behind the wheel and twisted the key in the ignition. The starter caught, then disengaged. The truck was a piece of junk he’d picked up after losing his good one, so it came with its own set of problems he’d been slowly working through. The starter being one of them. On his third try, the engine roared to life and he looked into his rearview mirror to see his neighbor directly behind his truck. Without hesitation he dropped the lever into reverse and stomped on the gas, sending the vehicle back and crushing his approaching neighbor under his rear end. 

In the suburbs leading to town, the roads were deserted, and he made good time. Instead of driving through town, he used the bypass and skirted what he knew would be the areas most populated by those still alive and otherwise. Elm Street, where his grandson lived, came to a dead end at Industrial Boulevard and he pulled to the side of the road at the junction. Shutting off the motor, he was amazed at how quiet it had become. There were no other cars on the streets around him. Nor were there any other people. The town, for all intents and purposes, appeared deserted. But he knew looks could be deceiving.

Leaving his backpack in the truck, he walked down Elm Street with his shotgun over his shoulder. His head was on a swivel as he watched in every direction for the least movement. A dog barked to his left, reminding him of Brutus, and a heavy sadness washed through him.

The phone in his pocket rang and he pulled it out to look at the screen. It was his wife and his heart climbed into his throat as he pressed the button to accept her call. Placing the phone next to his ear, he listened.

“Are you all right, babe?”

A ragged breathing answered him, that and the steady sound of footsteps on pavement.

“Please,” he whispered, “please say something, anything, let me know you’re all right.”

The only response was that ragged breathing. He knew it was too much to expect an answer but he persisted. Sacrificing reason to hope. To accept anything less would be unbearable.

He hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket, suppressing the urge to just throw it away. For the time being everything still worked, but he knew in a short period of time it would all start breaking down. The lights would go out and he would become truly alone. He wasn’t looking forward to that moment. For even though when he worked in his woodshop everything beyond the walls vanished in his mind, he was still aware of his wife’s presence. She would be upstairs cooking or reading, or playing on her computer. 

Reaching his grandson’s house, he gazed up at the two-story structure. Empty windows, devoid of life, gazed back at him. The front door stood open, inviting him to enter, and he didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold into the main room.

“Nathan,” he shouted into the empty room, “it’s Paw.”

Nothing stirred in the house.

Was he too late? The thought of anything bad happening to any of his grandchildren stoked that churning rage. They had not done anything to deserve what had befallen them.

Taking the steps two at a time, he raced to the second floor, his shotgun at the ready, as the shadowy corridor on the second floor came into view. There were three bedrooms and one bath. Two bedroom doors stood open, a third remained closed. After verifying that the other rooms were empty, he went to the closed door and pressed his ear against the dark surface. He thought he heard breathing on the other side, or maybe it was just his imagination trying to stave off the inevitable.

Turning the knob, he pushed into the room.

“Nathan,” he whispered. From the other side of the bed, pushed against the far wall, came the sound of movement.

“Is that you, Nathan?”

No answer. The bed moved, legs scraping across the hardwood floor with a faint squeaking sound.

“Nathan?” Eddie said as he approached the bed, his shotgun at the ready.

Nathan jumped out at him, his eyes a mottled gray. Eddie instinctively brought up the muzzle of his shotgun and fired blindly. He backed out of the room as he jacked another shell into the chamber. Reaching the hall, he turned and fled.

On the stairs where the shadows were thickest, he encountered his granddaughter. The front of her shirt was covered with blood and she snarled viciously as she reached for him with thin arms, wanting him to pick her up as he’d done so many times before. He stuck the muzzle of the shotgun in her face and pulled the trigger. He raced down the stairs and crossed to the front door.

It was all over. Everything he held dear had been taken from him. First his job, then his dignity, and now the last two people in this world who loved him unconditionally. He was alone. As he reached the street, he realized how alone he really was.

Drawn by his gunshots, the undead filled the street, a shambling crowd of men, women, and children covered in blood. In various stages of undress, their bodies marked by  an assortment of life-threatening wounds.

They had him cornered. Thinking fast, he fired at the rear of several vehicles parked along the street. Gas splashed onto the pavement from ruptured fuel tanks. He fired into the spreading pool with his pistol and was rewarded with a muffled whoosh as the gas ignited. 

To be continued!


Till Death Do We Part is just one of the stories in my collection 9 Dark Tales

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All Roads Lead to Terror: Chapter Ten

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present





Chapter 10

Gathered around the warmth of the wood stove they dined on cans of Spam Maria had retrieved from the basement. They were outdated by a number of years, as was everything else in this world, yet they had been stored in a cool dry place so there was little chance of getting sick. Over time their bodies had adapted to the changes forced upon them anyway, making outdated food less of a danger than it might have been, and a welcome change from the steady diet of rabbit, squirrel, and deer.

“So where are you guys from?” Maria said.

“A place just down the road a piece, past the bend in the river, you know, on the right,” Billie-Bob said, drawing a look from Meat that warned him to be careful.. “I’m not telling her anything important.”

“What’s wrong?” Maria said, glancing from Billie-Bob to Meat with a worried expression.

“They’re all a bunch of old ladies where we come from, always afraid someone will find them. They’re as bad as my brother.” Billie-Bob said.

“You have a brother? What’s his name? Is he older? Younger? I’m sorry I haven’t had anyone to talk to in so long.” Maria said.

“His name’s Bobbie, and he’s the same age as me.”

“And you’re Billie-Bob, right?” Maria said, a look of confusion slowly creeping into her expression.

“Just Billie, they call me Billie-Bob because me and my brother are twins and when we were growing up we’d trade places to confuse people, everyone calls us both Billie-Bob now.”

“It all sounds so confusing.”

“How long has your dad been gone?” Meat said.

“He left a year or so ago I think, I’m not really sure, we’ve been hiding here for such a long time. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“They call me Meat,” he said as he extended his hand, hoping to once again hold hers.

“Why such an odd name?” Maria said, then stopped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s all right.”

“It was only you and your Mom?” Gregory said.

“Since last year I think, Jamie, he was my younger brother, he came down with a fever and died, we buried him,” here she faltered as the memory overwhelmed her. Billie-Bob rested his hand on her back and she turned in her seat to bury her face against his shoulder.

Her actions sparked a touch of jealousy in Meat who had sat on her other side patiently listening to her and Billie-Bob. Everyone became quiet as Maria fought to get her emotions under control. Window had remained quiet throughout, eating when Meat instructed him to do so, a part of the group in only a physical sense. It seemed like he was off in a world all his own.

Meat noticed Einstein watching Window very closely.

He knew what was wrong and needed to get it out in the open as soon as possible if they were to be successful, much less survive what they intended to do. It wouldn’t do them any good as a group to have two of their members angry at one another. Then there was the question of Maria and what to do with her. He didn’t really want her to come along. Not with what they planned to do. He’d only allowed Gregory to accompany them as he had lost his wife and daughter to that roving band of savage children, his motives for coming along were pretty obvious.

There would be no survivors, that decision had been made before they even left the compound, it was one of the stipulation the council had put on their little trip. They were to leave no survivors who could reveal the location of Bremo Bluff.  It was simply a matter of survival and the presence of that group, especially since they now knew what lay at Bremo Bluff, meant they would have to be destroyed.

“Is anything wrong?” Meat said.

“More than you realize,” Einstein said as his gaze drifted over to Meat. His brow was wrinkled in anger, reminding Meat of their first meeting in the classes they attended when Einstein was eight. It was during recess and Einstein had been cornered by two of the larger boys in class, even after an apocalypse some things never changed, bullies would always go after those they perceived as being weaker, though in this new reality weakness was sometimes characterized by an unwillingness to do what was necessary to survive.

They had been learning to raise rabbits, the three R’s, reading, writing and arithmetic, had been replaced in this new reality by resource, raise, and re-purpose. Rabbit meat was good and with the animal’s ability to reproduce it had become a staple of the community. They had reached the last lesson, harvesting, and the instructor had shown them how to quickly and efficiently break the rabbit’s neck to minimize its suffering.

It was at this point Einstein hesitated, having become quite attached to his charges; he was unable to bring himself to kill the animals he’d spent the past three months caring for. The two biggest boys in the group had no problem with harvesting and quickly dispatched their own small herds before moving among their classmates dispatching what the others hesitated to kill. When they came to Einstein he tried to stop them, his actions angering the boys who took a great deal of pleasure in the suffering of Einstein’s animals, dragging out its death as the rabbit screamed in agony.

A rabbit’s scream is something that stays with a person, a cry reminiscent of a baby’s squall. A chilling sound that stirred old memories that were better left undisturbed as the image of that lone door at the end of a shadowy hallway invaded Meat’s mind.

Einstein had thrown himself at his tormentors in a flurry of fists that were as ineffective as was his ability to do what was needed to survive. The teacher intervened, an old man who had less patience for Einstein’s feelings than for those of the rabbits he’d been teaching them to raise.

At the time Meat and Window had been hanging out together since Window’s arrival. Naturally gravitating to one another, two lost souls seeking confirmation that they were not alone in this world. Their paths to The Bluffs, while somewhat the same, were as different as the night and day. Two years older than Einstein they had already taken the class for raising rabbits and currently oversaw several small herds they’d started from rabbits they had captured beyond the fence. In the small school yard they came upon Einstein cornered by his tormentors. His ferocity in the face of such odds impressing even Window.

Einstein simply refused to give up. With a busted lip, one eye nearly swollen closed, and blood from his nose smearing the front of his shirt he had stood his ground. Holding his fists up in a vain attempt to defend himself as they pummeled him at their leisure.

“Don’t seem fair two against one,” Window said as he came up behind them.

“This ain’t none of your business, Window,” Franklin, the oldest said. His father was currently serving on the council and from the way Franklin acted you’d think it was he who was serving. The fact that his family had been among the founders of this outpost further added to his sense of entitlement.

“I’m making it my business,” Window said.

“I don’t need no help,” Einstein said through tears of anger and frustration.

“Could have fooled me.”

Franklin and his friend turned their attention from Einstein to Window, two big boys who were confident they had the upper hand. Meat saw the look in Window’s eyes, a wild glee, a barely restrained rage that flashed in greedy anticipation. Faster than they could react Window drove into Franklin’s friend, hyper extending his knee with a well placed kick right beneath the kneecap, followed up with a one two combination that doubled him over and set him up for a crushing uppercut that sent him falling to the ground like a tree felled in the forest.

It happened so fast Franklin barely had time to react. One moment he and his friend were towering over what they considered easy pickings. The next second his friend was lying at his feet unconscious while Window stood silently in front of him, his hands on his hips as he gazed up at him with quiet eyes.

Franklin held up his hands as he backed away from Window, “I don’t want no parts of this,” he said.

“That should even things up for you,” Window said before he turned on the ball of one foot and walked away.

With a smile Einstein advanced on Franklin, who once he was alone, suddenly realized just how vulnerable he really was.

The memory receded as Meat once more came face to face with the problem that was growing within his own ranks. Twice now Window and Einstein had clashed over differences. At the barn Window had been right and Einstein was wrong. But now there appeared to be a new problem.

“It’s like he’s trying to get me killed,” Einstein said.

Window jumped to his feet and walked to the back door. His gaze fixed on the forest behind the house.

“What’s wrong?’ Maria said looking up from Billie-Bob’s shoulder as Window brushed past her. 

Window pushed through the back door and raced down the steps into the backyard. He ran across the yard, vanishing into the forest behind the house.




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All Roads Lead to Terror: Chapter Nine

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present





Chapter 9

Drops of rain clung to the windows, chilling the glass and forming a frame of condensation around the perimeter of each pane. Beyond the window the sky was full of dark clouds churning in a volatile way, almost touching the ground, as rain pelted the roof above their heads with a steady drone. He knew this place, had learned to read within its wall, it was the classroom at Bremo Bluff.

What am I doing here?

The children had left for the day and he was alone with Anna who was two years his senior, helping her clean up. It was odd that he had been assigned to help out in the school instead of with one of the scavenging crews embarking on their varied searches beyond the fence. 

But he wasn’t complaining.

It was warm and he had the added pleasure of working with Anna who had caught his eye several weeks earlier, emerging from her bulky winter clothing like a beautiful butterfly after a long harsh winter. Being inside with her was better than being out there in the cold rain. Here he was warm and dry, the warmth enveloping him in a comforting embrace that lulled him into a sense of security he’d never really known. It was so warm in fact that Anna was wearing a pair of shorts and a halter-top.

A faint yell intruded upon the scene, coming from the darkened hallway beyond the door of the classroom. Meat glanced in that direction as a cold chill whispered down his spine and he thought briefly that he should go help whoever was yelling.

Anna crossed the room towards him, stopping as she touched his arm, standing within the arc of his legs that were splayed out before him, one bare thigh resting gently against his own. Even thought he wore pants the sensation of her flesh against his was electrifying, sending jolts of delicious anticipation coursing through his body, deepening that feeling of secure warmth that enveloped him. Carnal thoughts whispered through his mind as he hesitantly reached out to touch one of her breasts encased in the thin fabric of the halter-top.

The scream came again, filled with terror, a man crying out for aid. His gaze was drawn to the door where he saw Window watching him through the crack in the door that stood ajar.

“You said you would help,” Window said

Meat returned his attention to Anna who stood before him without any clothes. “It is so hot in here,” she said as she fanned her face with her hand, “wouldn’t you feel more comfortable without all these clothes?”

He didn’t question the how or why of what was happening, buoyed as he was upon a volatile sea of yearning. Meat nodded as he tried to look at her secret place, shrouded in shadows his gaze could not penetrate. He’d seen naked women before while growing up, some dead, some alive, and others stuck in the hell in between. None of them had made him feel like Anna did.

The sound of something slapping against the glass came from the row of windows along the wall to his left. He looked in that direction, a horde of Zombies had gathered beyond the window,  slapping uselessly against the glass with melting flesh. Blood smearing the glass, and the rain washing it away in some places, the image overwhelming his desire, leaving him cold and lifeless inside.

“Don’t you love me any more?” Anna said, her voice low, grating, a guttural sound that came from somewhere deep in her throat.

She had changed, her once soft flesh now hard and gray, mottled with black spots where the decay was advancing. She grasped his head in her hands, her cracked nails raking against the flesh of his cheeks. She opened her mouth as she leaned forward, rotting teeth like the slats of a fence behind her twisted lips, and he pushed her away with his foot.

“Shoot her,” Einstein yelled, his voice coming from some distance away.

“Shoot her,” Einstein screamed, his shout driving away the dream and Meat opened his eyes on a dark world.

For a moment he was disoriented, unsure of where he was. The memory of finding the old house filtered through his mind, mingling with the memory of another old house that lay  shrouded by the shadowy wisps of terror that sent his heart racing as it squeezed his windpipe in an icy grasp . He sat up, glancing over at Billie Bob and Gregory who lay to his right, breathing in that steady rhythm of deep sleep. From his left came the sound of a struggle.

“Shoot her dammit,” Einstein shouted from somewhere in the depths of the house and Meat jumped to his feet. Though a fire was burning in the stove the room was cold, the night sky beyond the kitchen window alight with a full moon partially hidden behind dense clouds that still carried the promise of rain. Crossing the kitchen he came to the open basement door and in the shadowy depths below he saw the light of a candle softly illuminating the end of a couch on which Einstein sat. Only he wasn’t sitting. He had crawled halfway up the back of the couch, struggling with something outside of Meat’s view.

Meat took the steps two at a time, his revolver in his hand as he entered the finished basement to find Einstein struggling for his life with an older woman who had obviously turned. He drew a bead on the side of the woman’s head, a part of him wondering why Window was just sitting there, his gun in his hand, staring up at the woman with rapt attention.

The sound of the shot was deafening in the confines of the basement, that violent roar amplified by the close walls, leaving a ringing in his ears. The round hit the woman in the side of the head, high and to the right, a spray of blood marking its entry point. The soft nosed bullet expanded as it penetrated her skull, shattering bone, and slicing off the top portion of her skull that landed on the floor at Window’s feet. Instead of dropping instantly she folded up slowly, her knees buckling as her motor controls were cut and she rolled backwards onto the floor to gaze unseeing at the ceiling as the last of her bastardized life drained away.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you man,” Einstein said as he turned to confront Window, his voice tight with emotion, “why didn’t you shoot her?”

Window turned his head slowly to look at Einstein, a faraway expression in his eyes, as if he wasn’t really there.

Footsteps sounded from above as Gregory, followed by Billie Bob, crowded down the steps.

“What happened?” Gregory said, spotting the dead zombie lying on the floor at Window’s feet.

“I heard a noise in the basement,” Einstein said, “Window and I came down to see what it was and she attacked us.”

“And Window killed her,” Billie Bob said.

Einstein shook his head and pointed at Meat as he pushed himself off the couch to stand on shaking legs. Window remained where he was, his gaze fixed on the corpse at his feet.

Gregory crossed to the corpse and knelt down along side it. “It hasn’t been that long ago that she’s turned. There might be others.” He said before pushing himself to his feet.

“Are there anymore of them?” Meat said as he crossed to the darkened hallway and peered down its shadowy length.

“I think she was the only one,” Einstein said, “why didn’t you shoot her?” he finished, swiveling his head to look at Window with an angry expression, “are you trying to get me killed?”

“We better check the rest of the basement,” Meat said and turned back to the hallway. Einstein and Gregory followed as Billie Bob remained with Window who had yet to move from the couch.

Three doors greeted them as they moved into the shadowy depths of the hallway, one on the right, another opposite, and one at the end of the hallway. All three were closed. At the first door Meat turned the knob and pushed it open slowly, Einstein was behind him and held up the candle so they could see what awaited them. The stench of a sewer greeted them as the door opened upon a small bathroom. It was obvious the toilet had not been flushed in some time.

Stepping back he closed the door, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in that tiny room. He turned to the door opposite the first. In that room they found a bed whose surface was covered with blankets and clothing. The sheets were filthy and looked like they had been used recently as they carried the sour scent of an unwashed body. Dirty clothes were piled against the opposite wall. The closet door stood open, empty, a lonely wire clothes hanger hanging from the closet rod.

Back in the hallway they cautiously approached the last room. If there were any more zombies left they’d be hidden behind this door whose surface was marred by what looked like bloody smears. Taking a deep breath Meat turned the knob and leaned into the door pushing it open. In this room was more of the same, another bed with a nest of clothes and blankets, more dirty clothes piled against the far wall. Like the other room all of the clothes belonged to a woman.

As he turned to leave he heard the unmistakable sound of someone moaning. Stepping back into the room he rounded the bed, the muzzle of his pistol aimed at the floor as he approached the pile of clothes. He probed them with his foot, coming into contact with something hard yet yielding.  He kicked aside the clothes to uncover a person crouching on their hands and knees, their long hair hanging to the floor as they shook with fear.

“It’s okay,” Meat said as he knelt down, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She was a young girl, fourteen, possibly fifteen years old, and she lifted her head to look at him with terror filled eyes. Her face was dirty, her eyes haunted as they darted left and right.

“SSSsssshhhhh,” she said holding a finger to her lips.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Meat said.

She shook her head as she looked over Meat’s shoulder, “she’s out there waiting for me.”

Meat shook his head, “who’s out there?”

“My mom.” The girl’s eyes widened with remembered terror. “She kept trying to get in but I wouldn’t let her.”

“What happened to her?” Meat said, trying to keep her talking until he could get her to come out.

“She tripped down the steps in the dark, I think she broke her neck.”

“Is there anybody else here?”

“Daddy left a long time ago, he went to get water and never came back. Jamie died last year but wouldn’t stay in the ground, he kept digging himself out, and coming to the backdoor, pounding on it for us to let him in.”  She clamped her hands over her ears as she relived the memory of that incessant knocking.

“He’s gone,” Meat said, “take my hand, it’s safe.” He held out his hand for her.

She reached out hesitantly as her brow furrowed with a sudden thought, “are you real?”

Meat smiled, “I certainly hope so.”

As her hand came into contact with his own he felt an electric spark of desire race the length of his arm. It reminded him of his recently vacated dream..

She was, after all, a girl. Beneath all the grime and dirty clothes she was a female, and Meat’s hormones surged in response to her proximity as that new, yet familiar stirring came from his loins. The purple-headed bastard was waking up and as he stood up he quickly adjusted himself to make room. It didn’t feel right referring to it by that name, but his limited experience with the opposite sex left him with little real knowledge, forcing him to fall back upon familiar schoolboy jargon.

The adults had tried to teach them about sex and babies, but the greater needs of the survival of the compound left little time for such things. It was after all a natural process, and the adults felt that each of them would in time figure things out; it was how it had been done since the days of the caveman.

Meat was suddenly very conscious of how dirty he was. They were all grimy, every last one of them. Water’s scarcity in this new age had caused a monumental shift in thinking towards ones own personal hygiene. While they might be making drinking water in the Bluff, it still had to be rationed to make sure everyone got their share. Of course the outlet lines of the steam turbines at the power plant offered a nearly limitless supply of hot clean water, and the proximity of the river, permitted many of the inhabitants to bathe regularly. Yet the fact remained he was fourteen going on fifteen, and one thing that hadn’t changed with the awakening, was an adolescent’s disdain for bathing. The only difference now was that no one was riding them to get a bath everyday.

She stood unsteadily on her feet, the flickering light of the candle casting strange shadows on the walls around them, and she jerked her head left and right trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was lurking in her peripheral vision. She smiled, revealing a row of fairly straight, yet dirty teeth, that to Meat was like a ray of sunshine suddenly bursting through a dreary overcast day.

“Who do we have here?” Gregory said from the doorway as Meat led the girl across the room. It was then he realized he’d never asked the girl her name.

“I’m Maria,” she said as she followed Meat into the hallway where Einstein and Billie Bob were waiting. They stepped back as Meat led her into the family room where Window was still sitting on the couch with the dead woman at his feet.

“Mom,” Maria said. She pulled her hand from Meat’s grasp and crossed to the dead woman, dropping to her knees at her side as tears rolled down her cheeks. She ran her hand along her mother’s cheek, her other hand covering her mouth as she bent her head and cried silently.

Meat crossed to Window and knelt down next to him, placing his hand on Window’s knee as he looked into his eyes. What he saw frightened him. Window had always been the strong quiet one in the group. It was a quality Meat had grown accustomed to so he wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed when he realized Window wasn’t really with them. He might have been physically sitting on the couch, but mentally he’d become lost in his memories.

Meat glanced at the dead woman to his left. Maria bent over and gently kissed her mother’s cheek, then wiping her eyes, she pushed herself to her feet.

“Is he all right?” She said, motioning to Window.

“I think so, come on Window, let’s go upstairs,” Meat said as he stood up and took Window’s hand. Window followed them willingly enough and as the false light of the approaching dawn filled the overcast sky they gathered in the kitchen.



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All Roads Lead to Terror: Chapter Eight

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present





Chapter 8

They fanned out across the small living room, carefully checking each room of the house until they were confident they were alone. In the back of the house they found the kitchen, and against the back wall of the screened in back porch they came upon an old wood fire cook stove that was still operational.

It was obvious someone had used the stove sometime in the recent past, as ashes were still present in the firebox. On the flat surface a cast iron skillet, its bottom coated by a thin layer of old grease, sat abandoned.

Meat sniffed the pan, noting how the grease was still relatively fresh, and as his eyes scanned the small kitchen he noticed signs that someone had recently used the kitchen as a shelter. He hoped it had been someone passing through, not someone who was using the house as a shelter and would return any moment to find them invading their space. 

Situations like that had a tendency to spiral out of control rather quickly with gunplay entering the equation more often than not. Anymore it was easier to just shoot your problem than deal with it in a rational manner. Compromise had given way to a wild west attitude.

In no time they had built a small fire that provided warmth and heat for cooking. In the cast iron skillet they prepared a feast of venison stew from the deer jerky they all carried, boiling it down as best they could in rainwater. Adding potatoes and carrots from the garden they maintained year round, along with several spring onions they’d picked up along the way.

Though they were young they had been taught at an early age to fend for themselves. They gave little thought to the fact that what they were doing would have been unheard of fourteen years before, unless they belonged to a Boy Scout troop, or some other wilderness preparatory organization. Of course each of them would have been equally lost in that world of instant gratification where a fast food restaurant occupied nearly every corner.

With their bellies full they sat around the stove as night descended and the rain continued to tap against the roof in a steady rhythm that served to lull them into a false sense of security. Without posting a guard they soon nodded off to sleep.

Einstein was the first to stir, it had become colder, and he awakened to find the fire out. As he was starting another, the rest of the group sleeping around him, he heard the sound of movement coming from beneath their feet. Window stirred on his right as he turned his ear to the house, straining to hear more.

A distinct thump came from below them.

“What was that?” Window said, struggling to sit up, “whose on guard?”

“Ssshhh.” Einstein put his finger to his lips to quiet him. To Window’s right Meat and Billie Bob slept soundly, their breathing coming in that steady rhythm indicative of deep sleep. Beyond them, curled up next to the wall, lost in his dreams of what once was, Gregory lay wrapped in a dirty blanket.

The thump came again and Window pushed himself up from his seat. He leaned over to wake Meat but Einstein stopped him. “It’s probably nothing, I’ll go check it out.”

“I’ll come with you,” Window said as he strapped on his holster and checked the chambers of his revolver.

Lighting a candle from the fire he’d started, Einstein led the way, holding the candle high, his hand cupped to protect the flame as they cautiously crossed the kitchen floor. The sound of movement came from beneath their feet.

“It’s in the basement,” Einstein said. He reached a door and opened it to reveal a small pantry, its shelves bare. Moving to the next door he opened it to reveal a yawning black pit. From the inky well of darkness came the sound of movement and Einstein knelt down on the top step to try and shed some light into the basement. At the very edge of that faint pool of illumination they saw a couch sitting against the wall. The basement was finished, and what they were looking at had once served as a family room for those who had occupied the house in the past.

Followed closely by Window, Einstein carefully moved down the steps. Reaching the bottom they saw the entire room in the fain glow of the candle. Two easy chairs occupied the wall next to the couch, across from it stood a massive flat panel television and on the rack next to it were several pieces of recording equipment along with two game consoles. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and the wires connecting it all together had been chewed clean through leaving nubs protruding from the rear of the components.

To the left of the easy chairs a narrow hallway vanished into the emptiness that was crowding around the small pool of light provided by the candle. The sound of movement came from those shadowy depths and Einstein glanced back at Window with a worried expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Window said.

“I don’t think I want to go down there.”

“I’m right behind you.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“Go on, you’ve brought us this far, we might as well finish.”

“You’re right,” Einstein said before turning back to the hallway. As he moved forward the leading edge of the faint light cast by the candle illuminated the floor. Just inside the hallway a pair of bare feet was exposed, the soles flat against the floor, the nails cracked and jagged, the flesh gray with death.

Einstein stopped, his heart climbing into his throat as he lifted the candle higher to expose more of the person standing there. Her dress was filthy and torn, the front stained with a large swath of dried blood that was black in the candlelight.

She lurched forward, drawn by the light, her hands stretched out before her as she stumbled forward. With a moan of fear Einstein stumbled back into Window, knocking him back against the couch, forcing Window to sit down as Einstein plopped down beside him.

“Shoot her, dammit,” Einstein shouted.

Window clawed his pistol from its holster and lifted the muzzle, aiming at the woman’s head.

“Shoot her,” Einstein screamed as he struggled to back away from the woman, clawing his way up the back of the sofa, the flame of the candle fluttering in response to his movement, sending shadows dancing across the walls as shouts and pounding footsteps came from upstairs. Footsteps pounded pounded down the steps. Einstein’s yell had obviously awakened the others.

Window sat stationary next to Einstein’s squirming figure, the pistol forgotten in his hand, his eyes fixed on the woman’s face as a single word formed on his lips.

“Mom.”



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All Roads Lead to Terror: Chapter Seven

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present


Chapter 7

 Reaching the outskirts of the small town of Columbia Meat called a halt and they gathered on a slight rise overlooking the town, if it could be called that. Route Six ran through the middle of Columbia which was nothing more than a scattering of houses gathered around two churches and an old train station that had once been listed on the national register of historic places by the National Historical Society.

The society no longer existed, all of its members were either dead, or had become one of the walking dead that still populated parts of the world around them. Their mission had been to preserve what had survived the wrecking ball in man’s pursuit of progress. Unfortunately for them they were unable to survive man’s own inhumanity to man.

Everything was buried beneath an ever-growing mound of a mile a minute, a trailing vine that in the past had seemed to grow faster than it could be cut, earning it its nickname a mile a minute. Across from the station house stood a group of houses gathered around two old churches. One of the spires had fallen either as a result of high winds, vandalism that was still prevalent, or simple neglect.

Everything carried a neglected air. The front lawn of one house was covered by the contents of the house, the furnishings having vanished beneath a sea of that ever present a mile a minute that was threatening to consume the house itself.

“Why do Zombies eat brains with their fingers?”

“I thought they saved the fingers for last?” Gregory answered with a shrug.

“No,” Billie-Bob said with a barely restrained giggle, “they’re not coordinated enough to use utensils.” He finished with a guffaw as he slapped his thigh with his hand. “Do you get it? They don’t know how to use a fork.”

Gregory smiled patiently as Billie-Bob became quiet, resuming his whispered monologue, speaking to himself in a soft voice, the words coming at a staccato, rapid-fire rate. “They roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws,” He chanted to himself, repeating the same phrase over and over again like a mantra that would protect him.

“Is he always like this?” Gregory said, pointing at Billie-Bob with his thumb.

“Everyday,” Window said with a smile. 

Along the right shoulder, crowded close to route six stood a two-story house that looked like it had once held a business with either a rental, or the owner’s living quarters on the second floor. A balcony on the second floor covered the entire width of the front of the house and hanging from the solid railings were several corpses.

They had obviously been there awhile as all that remained was the mummified torso and head. Beneath each body lay a grisly pile of bones with some of the connecting tissue still intact. Each one had been shot in the head, ensuring that they wouldn’t return for revenge, the blood splatter on the once white wall of the building behind them having faded to a dirty brown color.

Were they one of the missing crews? Meat wondered as he walked by. Scavenging crews had managed to explore all of the points on the compass surrounding Bremo Bluff with the exception of the lands to the East. So far three crews had vanished without a trace in the wilds between the compound and the Atlantic ocean. Earning those unknown areas to the East the name, Dreadlands. 
When Meat first approached the council about going after the children they had been reluctant to give their blessings, content it seemed to mark them off as lost for good. Yet at the same time it was important that they learn what lay to the East, and if it posed a threat to the well being of the compound. A point Meat used to hammer away at their reluctance until they relented, with one caveat. It was a stipulation that even in the present seemed overly brutal to Meat.

There were to be no survivors.

At first he had balked at the requirement, killing those who had taken the children would make them no better that the people they followed, or the roving bands of survivors who took what they wanted killing anyone who got in their way. Yet at the same time he understood their reasoning, so it was with a sense of reluctance that he accepted their terms.

It was also a stipulation he had as yet to share with the others.

As a group they silently walked past the building, even Billie-Bob had grown quiet as the hollow sound of their footsteps on the crumbling pavement echoed from the stillness around them. As they each passed they glanced in the direction of the hanging corpses then cast their eyes down at their feet. Even Billie-Bob, whose ceaseless whispering had become as commonplace as the birds around them, had fallen silent as they passed.

This was real.

Every one of them had seen Zombies, they’d taken shots at them as they gathered beyond the fence at Bremo Bluff. But that fence had served to protect them from the reality of what they faced, keeping them safely encased within the security of the community.

Out here, this far from the security of the fence, the only safety they had was in their numbers, and an ever-watchful nature nurtured by a childhood spoiled by an event beyond their control. They were the children of the apocalypse, survivors hardened by an ever-present death that was no longer hidden away from view as it had been in the past. Since that fateful day in March death had become the norm, an acceptable alternative to what awaited all of them in their final moments.

Moving beyond Columbia they entered what looked like a vast wilderness bisected by the crumbling pavement of route six. Mother Nature had nearly reclaimed what man had taken. Saplings grew from the center of the macadam, their roots cracking the once smooth surface, permitting small brush to emerge. Here and there bare spots of weathered asphalt were the only evidence of the once busy throughway that connected Western Virginia with Richmond.

The rusting hulks of automobiles sat haphazardly where they had been abandoned. The ever present a mile a minute slowly consuming them as weeds grew from their exposed interiors. They dotted the cracked macadam, the shadows beneath them offering refuge to a varied assortment of small animals.

Above them the sky had grown darker as a cool breeze stirred the leaves of the forest around them, speaking to them in its secret voice as the scent of the coming rain was carried upon its currents. Mingling with that refreshing scent was a much darker odor, an earthy fragrance that spoke of things long dead.

“We’re going to have to find shelter for the night,” Meat said.

“Why don’t we go back to Columbia?” Einstein said.

Meat shook his head as a gust of wind threatened to strip his hat from his head, “I want to keep pushing forward, we’ll find something.”

“I hope you’re right.”

With their heads bent to the wind they pushed into the approaching storm as it kicked up around them. Fat raindrops fell from the darkening sky as lightning danced in the distance, its booming voice trailing a few seconds behind. The leaves of the trees around them turned their backs to the wind, a sign that this was going to be a bad one.

Lightning streaked across the sky above their heads, filling the air with an electric tang as the crackling sound of thunder shook them to the marrow of their bones. The deluge had yet to start, but it wouldn’t be long, and Meat scanned the forest ahead for any sign of shelter.

Maybe he should have let them turn back?

Then he saw it, screened by trees on the left side of the road, a ranch style house that sat back from the highway, half hidden behind a front yard that was slowly being reclaimed by the forest around it.

“Up ahead,” he shouted into the wind as the frequency of the falling raindrops intensified. Throwing caution to the wind they ran towards the house, across the lawn where small trees sprouted, and to the front door where they gathered under the small roof that afforded them some protection from the storm. Meat forced the door open and it swung into the shadowy depths of the house as the musty scent of decay greeted them.


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All Roads Lead to Terror: Chapter Six

The horrors of the past meet the brutality of the present





Chapter 6

“We better tie him up tight,” Meat said as he and Window dropped their captive to the dirt floor of the barn. He looked to be about ten years old, dressed in a loincloth fashioned from what looked like a set of curtains, the fabric heavy and stiff, with brocaded designs in the filthy green cloth. His exposed flesh, while deeply tanned, was covered by crude tattoos, many of which were faded, attesting to their age.

There were spirals and groups of jagged lines, thick bands were wrapped around his upper arms, and the flesh of both forearms was covered in odd swirling patterns that resembled pin striping. On each knuckle was a different letter that spelled out PAIN on one hand with LOVE on the other.

“Look at this,” Window said as he rolled the boy over onto his back. On his chest and stomach was the tattoo of a man crucified on a cross and wrapped in barbed wire. Though crudely drawn the shading of the image lent it a depth that made it appear to pop out of the boy’s chest. The image hung down from between his nipples, the man’s feet vanishing under the band of his loincloth. Above his left nipple was a Celtic trinity with a circle surrounding its central part.

Window grabbed a length of rope hanging from one of the upright posts and quickly bound their captive’s hands and feet, drawing them together behind his back. 

The boy groaned as he awakened, struggling to loosen his bonds. He fought harder, yanking at the rope as he rolled over onto his side. Meat and Window stepped back as Einstein, his hair a mess, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, came over to see what they had found. Billie Bob was still asleep in the back of the barn.

“Where did he come from?” Einstein said.

“I caught him spying on us from the forest,” Meat said.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” Window said, pointing at the blood on Meat’s arm.

Meat examined the wound, it was superficial yet was producing a good bit of blood making it look worse than it really was.

“Grab me the first aid kit, will ya?” Meat said and Einstein nodded before he turned and rummaged through his pack where he’d been sleeping. He returned with a dirty white box that he passed to Meat. With Window’s help he squirted a small amount of alcohol on the wound, gritting his teeth when the burning sensation hit him. It hurt like hell, but the alcohol would kill any germs that might get into the wound. Even a small cut like this was cause to be worried. Without hospitals, or clinics, or even readily available doctors, a small wound could quickly lead to death unless it was properly cared for.

Once Meat’s arm had been taken care of they turned their attention to the captive.

The boy’s eyes were open, dripping with hatred, “cut me loose now or the master will feed you his pain, he’ll eat your hearts out of you,” he growled with a venomous voice, exposing yellowed teeth that had been filed down to points.

Meat placed one booted foot on his chest as the boy strained against his bonds. He  stretched his neck to bite Meat’s foot, his teeth clicking together on empty air. It would be a comical sight if not for the sheer rage that smoldered in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Meat shouted and slapped the boy across the face, hard, with his open hand.

“Fuck you,” the boy screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as he thrashed about on the dirt floor, stirring up clouds of dust.

Meat raised his fist and the boy stopped for a moment, glaring at Meat, daring him to hit him.

“I will eat your heart out of you,” the boy hissed.

“Where are you from?” Meat said.

“Fuck you.”

“What the hell is going on out here?” Gregory said as he opened the door and stepped into the barn. “I heard shouting.”

“We caught this one spying on us,” Meat said, pointing at the young boy lying at his feet.

“He’s just a kid,” Gregory said as he entered the barn and crossed to their captive. He stopped at the boys figure, taking in the crude tattoos that covered his young body, “he’s one of them,” he said.

“One of who?” Einstein said.

“One of the group that killed my wife and daughter, they were all dressed like this, like they were playing cowboys and Indians only there weren’t any cowboys.”

“Did you do that?” Meat said, prodding the young boy with the toe of his boot.

“Fuck you,” the boy shouted, renewing his struggles to escape.

“Obviously that’s the only word he knows,” Window said as he drew his revolver and crossed to the boy. He squatted next to his supine figure and rested the long barrel of his pistol on his forearm. The boy settled down, mesmerized by the gun, his gaze softening as he traced the length of the barrel.

“What are you going to do?” Gregory said.

“What should have been done to begin with,” Window said as he cocked his pistol and aimed the barrel at the boys face.

The boy smiled, exposing his pointed teeth, his eyes alight with what could only be characterized as joy. It appeared he understood the purpose of Window’s pistol and was anxious to die. “Give me peace,” he whispered as he strained his head forward, willingly placing his forehead against the muzzle.

“You can’t do that, he’s just a boy,” Einstein said as he pushed Window to the side and placed himself between their captive and the rest of them.

The boy screamed behind him, thrashing about wildly, as he rolled around on the ground, struggling against his bonds.

“Get out of the way Einstein.”

“No.”

“I’ll shoot you first then,” Window said as he raised the muzzle of his pistol and aimed it at Einstein’s head.

“Put the gun down,” Meat said, placing his hand over Window’s pistol and pushing it down.

Window sidestepped Meat and raised his pistol. “I always said you were weak, you don’t have the stomach for what needs to be done.”

“But he’s just a kid,” Einstein said, “this isn’t like shooting a Zombie, they’re already dead so it doesn’t matter.”

“It was his kind that killed my wife and daughter,” Gregory said, clearly placing himself in Window’s camp.

 “How do you know it was him who did it? Maybe he’s running with them for protection., maybe he’s just a scared little kid like the rest of us,” Einstein said

“Speak for yourself,” Window said.

“What’s going on?” Billie Bob said, emerging from the dark recesses of the barn still wrapped in the blankets in which he’d slept. He crossed to the group and looked down at their captive. “Who’s this?”

“We caught him spying on us,” Window said, never once taking his eye off of Einstein.

Billie-Bob glanced at the crude tattoos that covered the boy’s body as his face blanched and his eye widened. “They roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws,” he whispered softly before turning and retreating into the shadows at the back of the barn.

“What in the hell was that all about?’ Window said.

“I don’t know,” Meat said, he was teetering on the fine edge of losing control over their small group. While there had never been an official decision as to who would lead them, everyone had naturally assumed Meat would as he had the most experience outside the fence. It was a role that fit him and if they were to succeed in this little endeavor, not to mention survive in the wilds, there had to be only one person who was clearly in charge.

There had to be control.

While he agreed with Window on what had to be done, he could understand Einstein’s reluctance to carry through. They were faced with a dilemma that would pale in significance as they progressed through their quest. But for now it was a tough call, one he had to make if he was to cement his role as the leader.

They couldn’t very well let the boy go, he’d only return to his group and let then know they were coming, giving them ample time to prepare for their arrival.

If what they planned was to work, with four against an unknown number, their arrival had to be a surprise. They couldn’t leave him, he’d get loose and tell his tribe, or whatever it was he belonged to about them, or he would die of exposure.

“We can’t let him go,” Meat said, stepping up and placing himself between Window and Einstein, he felt the muzzle of Windows .44 aimed at the back of his head, and he hoped to hell no one tried to stop him or ran into him, causing Window to squeezer the hair trigger Meat knew was on the pistol. Of course in that event his own personal problems would be solved.

“We can’t kill him,” Einstein said, “we’d be no better than them if we did.”

“Then what do you want us to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we leave him tied up in here?”

“We can’t do that. How would he eat and drink? How would he get home?”

That was the crux of it. They all wanted to go home, not to Bremo Bluff, but to that time Gregory had told them about the night before. Where a fast food joint could be found on every corner, where you could walk the streets without fear of being attacked and eaten, though he had heard stories about some places before the awakening that one did not venture into alone, especially after dark, but that was not the whole world. Just a small corner of it confined to places he only knew of as names in a book.

“How about this, we leave him tied up with water close by so he can drink, and after we’re done, on our way back through, we release him.”

“What about food?”

Meat shook his head, “we only have enough for ourselves, and besides it will only be a few days, I doubt he’ll starve in that time.”

“What about other animals coming to get him?”

“We’ll keep the door locked from the outside so nothing can get to him.”

As they debated his future the young boy had worn himself out with his struggles. While Meat and Einstein reached an agreement they could each live with, the boy had fallen asleep and was softly snoring, curled up into a tight ball on the dusty ground.

“Is that fair?” Meat said turning to Window and Gregory. “We keep him prisoner until we return, then we let him go.”

“Once he’s out of the barn he becomes fair game,” Gregory said.

“What is wrong with you people?” Einstein said. “Whatever happened to compassion? To caring for those less fortunate than ourselves?”

“Have you been sleeping under a fucking rock or something?” Window said. “The world has changed, it’s not like it was described in the books we’ve read. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and if you’re not the biggest, baddest, son of a bitch out here, it’ll eat you up.”

“Like you?” Einstein said.

“Exactly like me,” Window said as he moved closer to Einstein, invading his space and forcing him to take a step back.

“Let it go, we’ll leave him in the barn until we come back through, after we release him he’s on his own. Now let’s get ready to go, we’ve already fallen behind because of this.” Meat purposely turned away to pack his belongings for the coming days hike.

Window and Einstein stood facing one another for a moment more, each refusing to be the first to step away, to concede to the other. Meat was amused by Einstein’s actions. He had always been the quiet one, dutifully doing what needed done without complaint Einstein did have a stubborn side to him and Meat had seen him stand up to others before yet he was concerned by what happened. There was nothing wrong with a bit of dissent in the ranks, as long as it didn’t get too out of hand and boil over into outright animosity. Right now it looked like Einstein and Window had become mortal enemies, and he’d have to keep a close watch over them to make sure that animosity didn’t get too out of hand.

Outside the sky lightened as the sun slowly emerged from the Eastern horizon, greeted by the incessant chatter of the birds in the forest. Golden rays of light flowed across the steel roof of the barn in which a struggle between life and death was being played out. Steam rose from the roof as the sun’s rays heated the metal, offering a preview of the day’s warmth.

#


They were gathered in front of the barn preparing to head out when Gregory raced from his house with a backpack slung over one shoulder, his rifle over the other.

“Where are you going?”

“I want to come along, help out where I can.”

‘Can you use that thing?” Window said.

“I can hit anything inside eight hundred yards.”

“That good enough for me,” Meat said.

“Wait a minute, I forgot something,” Window said and turned back to the barn. He vanished inside. From within came the roar of his pistol. Einstein screamed and raced back to the barn. Throwing open the doors he revealed Window standing over the still body of their captor, the boys blood staining the ground beneath his head.

“I did him a favor,” Window said, slipping his pistol back into the holster slung low on his hip.

Einstein screamed and charged Window who sidestepped his attack. Einstein ran past his target, tripping over his own two feet, falling to the ground beside the body of their captive.

“Let it go,” Meat shouted as Einstein pushed himself to his feet and prepared to charge Window again.

Gregory stepped between them, holding out his hands. “It’s over,” he said, “let it go.”

Einstein dusted himself off and retrieved his gear from where he’d dropped it, glaring at Window who ignored him, a self satisfied smile on his face as he casually walked over to the group.

“Why did you do that?” Meat said.

“It had to be done,” Window said with a shrug.

“You’ll get no argument from me, but we agreed to keep the boy captive until we returned, then we would let him go.” Meat felt his control over the group slipping through his fingers, if he didn’t do something to establish control soon, they’d descend into anarchy.

But what could he do?

He had no experience with leadership. He knew if it got too out of hand the lives of the children counting on them would surely come to an end.

“Hey Gregory,” Billie-Bob said as he slung his rifle and stopped beside him, “do Zombies eat popcorn with their fingers?”

“What? I don’t know, what are you talking about? I guess.”

Window and Meat turned away as Billie-Bob draped his arm over Gregory’s shoulder.

“No, they save the fingers for last,” Billie-Bob said, “did you ever hear the one about the Zombie that went to the whorehouse?”

Gregory shook his head.

“He wanted his money back because he couldn’t get it up, he had DD, a dead dick.” Billie-Bob finished with a guffaw, “get it? Dead dick?” he said as he slapped Gregory on the shoulder and bent over with laughter. “I’ve got a hundred of em.”

Gregory shook his head as they trailed the rest of the group, Billie-Bob’s voice running a mile a minute as he entertained his new found audience.


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