The heat reaches me first, numbing pain slicing through layers of skin all the way to the bone. Light claws its way into my eyes biting at them mercilessly aiming to kill. Thoughts jumped from my head in a wild attempt to flee this awful fate. I didn’t dare take a breath for fear of letting in more of this nullifying light. Maybe I screamed, but it could have been the wail of the world as the fleas of humanity were whipped from her surface. The moment seemed to burn a hole through time ditching me in the center of the inferno.

The blast had cast me aside like a cranky child finished with a toy. I tried to unwrap myself from the street lamp in vein. Hot air slithered through my lungs as I tried with every ounce of muscle the blast hadn’t stolen to detach from the pole. Finally I slumped onto the unforgiving ground. A large chunk of concrete punched the tender skin of my back. Maybe the pole was better, I thought with a whimper. My next shift in weight was into a smoldering patch of grass that crackled underneath me. I made a decision to just not move. Unfortunately that was quickly changed when I heard the quick exhale of breath next to me.

Twisting onto my side I saw a woman face down on the concrete with a hunk of debris immobilizing her left leg. Without thinking I hobbled over to her, new wounds of my own becoming clear every time my foot made contact with solid ground.

“Ma’am?’ I nudged her shoulder hoping she was still alive. Selfishly I yearned not to be trapped in a state of loneliness through whatever madness this turned out to be. “Ma’am are you alright?”

She let out a small groan.

“Oh thank God! Just be still, I think help should be on its way!” If the help was even still alive.

In short jerky motions she began to lift her head, twisting from side to side to get it free from the ground. I opened my mouth to tell her to lay still but then I noticed the pool of red where her face had been. A meaty chunk was still stuck to the pavement. As she continued to twist and grind her body up I caught a good look at her face. The meat on the ground was a piece of her cheek that now left an empty hole where you could see bloodied teeth. She pulled her arms up to perch her upper body on and let out a gut tearing scream muffled by the steady flow of her own blood pouring down her throat. Her blue shirt was soon an awkward purple from the blood sloshing from her mouth. The fact that her humerus had broken through the skin of her arm seemed not to bother her in the slightest as she clawed for more lift.

Unable to form a coherent sentence the only intelligible words to pop from my lips were “Holy s***”

The woman jerked her head my direction. Through blood matted hair she looked at me with clouded eyes. Her broken nose twitched slightly. There was a long pause. We watched each other, uncertain of what move the other would make. What our own move would be.

Then she lunged with such force that the tendons of her left leg separated mid-thigh. Being trapped under the concrete block didn’t seem to appeal to her and she began yanking at her leg to get free. Ripping away flesh with a sickening tearing sound until finally she snapped her bone. As she stood the meat of her leg twitched and started to spasm around the grey bone. Crimson splashed and dripped from the wound leaving a puddle in the concrete as she gained her balance.

Clearing shock from my mind I scrambled over rubble to get away from this crazed monster. She screeched and screamed gargling blood with every ghastly noise. Finding unsure footing with her one good leg she lunged at me again coming mere inches from my eye. Adrenaline enveloped me in a fight or flight fast paced mind set as I hopped over concrete and bodies. Somehow the woman was keeping up with me despite her severed leg and massive blood loss. Within seconds she was at my heels reaching out to grab at me. Without really processing my plan of attack, I grabbed a nearby pole about five feet long and swiveled around to face the creature. Locating her chest I slammed one end of the pole through it with all my strength right where her heart was. She was thrust back but didn’t seem to take any notice to becoming a shish kabob. Lucky me, I was her only focus at the time.

A thought register in my head that made my mouth drop. Clashing teeth, can’t be killed like a living human, and can walk around no matter what wound they have. I closed my throat tight around the word before it could breach my lips. Realizations like this are better left to the mind.

I placed a foot right below where the pole had pierced the woman’s body and jerked back. She took a second to regroup but I was ready for the attack this time. When she lunged I slid the pole right through her head creating a flower like splash of red, grey, and pink out the other side. The woman slumped down, lifeless.

With a shaky sigh I dropped the pole. Years of America obsessing over the creatures of the night and someone has just brought them to our doorstep. Logic had clearly been burned out of reality with the blast. The cushy life we all had once lived was now over. We needed to survive the world not live in it. ‘The product of our imagination shall be the reality of our demise.’ My dad’s quote rung out in my head through the silence of the new world.

I took another look at the woman lying dead by my feet, her gnarly hole of cheek peering up at me. So this is what the new world had in store for us? Zombies?




“Asleep on the job?” A voice rocked me from my accidental sleep. Out of instinct I unsheathed my machete and pointed it in the direction of the noise.

Rameses, a lean muscly soldier type, held up his hands defensively. “Whoa, beating heart here! I’d kinda like to keep it that way.”

Relaxing a bit I put my weapon away. “You should know better than to sneak up on me.”

“No sneaking intended. May I?” He pointed to a spot in the grass next to me.

“Oh no that spot’s reserved.”

Without missing a beat he took the other side of me. “Anyway I’m glad to see you’re finally getting some rest.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Oh? Then what was that snoring I heard?” He flashed me a white pearl grin.

I punched his padded shoulder but I couldn’t help but smile. “I was not asleep!”

“So what were you doing, Miss Mystery?”

I pulled my knees tight into my chest. “Just remembering I guess…” The images of that fist zombie popped into my head again. I quickly shook them free. “Where were you when the bombs hit?”

Rameses kicked at a rock that rolled down the grassy hill. “What happened to not giving a damn about our stories?” There was spite in his voice.

It was embarrassing to be reminded of my own rules. Rameses’ sea green eyes glinted in the approaching dawn. He looked over at me and they pleaded connection. As much as I wished connection was possible it was just too dangerous in this world. Relationships of any kind were always shattered to pieces at the first clash of a Biter’s teeth. People either betray you or get bitten and need to be disposed of. The only way to not care about hacking apart someone’s skull is to be completely neutral towards them. No real names, no stories, and no connection.

I tied my dark cocoa hair back into a pony tail. “Right. It’s almost dawn and we need to get going. We only have a few miles before we reach some good abandoned cabins. Hopefully we can find some more food.”

Rameses took my hand to help me up. Inches apart I could almost fall into his eyes. They popped out from his chestnut colored skin like emeralds sparkling in the sand. Light brown highlights shone out of his slightly curled hair as the sun swelled on the horizon. His tattered cargo pants and sweat ridden tee shirt clung to him amplifying the muscles I tried to ignore so often.
Rameses hoisted his rifle over his shoulder and released my hand. “We still haven’t talked about finding a permanent shelter.”
“Is now really the time to be considering that? We don’t even have an idea of where that might be.” I started to walk down the other side of the hill towards camp.
“We caught word last week that Boston might be rebuilding.”
“Rumors, Rameses. Are we going to trust to lives of twenty-four people to rumors? Boston is a big city, who knows how many Biter’s could be there.”
Rameses let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but we will talk about this later.”
“That’s fine Ram. For right now we just need to get to Red Feather without losing anyone else.”
He nodded solemnly.




B is for Backstory


Before the bomb went off America was in a state of bliss for the first time in decades. No one knew the true story of why though. America had been at war for so long and then all of a sudden it seemed to stop entirely. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Probably because inside lay the carnage of half-a-dozen civilizations that America had put to rest. The reasons all varied; difference, nuclear power, oil….mostly oil. Which is ironic considering gas is now useless to the Undead. We didn’t care about the people we put down like dogs and forced to work in factories that only shipped shitty products to American soil. This was all kept a secret of course because why worry the rich and powerful? Only a handful of people knew and everyone who was sent to carry out these ‘missions of peace’ was executed upon return to their motherland.
But we must have forgotten some big super power because shortly after the American take over the bio-bombs were dropped. Word has it that we couldn’t even pin point who was leading the attack. The nightmares of American sin were at our door step ready to knock down the domino stack which we called home. And they did. The final siege of biological terror landed at the head of every domino tower in the country. We fell with hardly a scream, out with a whimper.
At first it was just the small cities, like Fort Collins, Colorado, to strike fear into the US of A. True terrorism aims for mass hysteria not a massive amount of numbers. They achieved their goal with a rising wave of indecisive action. As the nature of the chemical bombs was thrust into light people began their usual apocalyptic madness with looting, murders, and mass suicides. The dead began to walk with only one purpose in mind; to make lunch out of anyone with a heartbeat.
It may be sick but I still love the irony. Our downfall brought on by the very creatures that we idolize and use to entertain so often. We had this coming. Decades of stepping on the little people and we expected no rebellion? No reclaiming of power that was ripped from the hands of the powerless? How naïve a world in which these dead morons used to float.
In my few possessions I still have a crumpled flyer that seemed to litter the streets of Loveland after the initial attack. Someone who clung to the theatrical title of ‘Rosy Death’.

“We are breast feeding the cruelty of the world. With quotable "good intentions" we are feeding our innocence on a silver platter to those who wish to destroy us. Our secrets lay on broken spoons slipping repetitively into the mouths of the greedy. They grow with ever mounting malcontent, sponging off of our sacrificial happiness. Punishment becomes obsolete to those in a seat of power. They strangle the voice boxes of those who dare cry out to the crimes of today's world. Forcing them to sit in a laminated torture that is watching the plague called humanity continue and spread through the land. Silence becomes the only cry let loose from bloody victim's lips. Lathered in their stolen innocence, a taunting game played by many. The choice of power becomes blurred by corruption. And we, the people, are condemned to rot with the bones of the forgotten, at the feet of the crown barer.
This is our ultimate punishment. To become that which the mirror sees. That which our hunger feeds. Broken by the very hunger that used to propel us to the safety of wealth.
Feast my lovely corruption! Feast on the slaughter land of dreams!”

So Rosy Death was probably a complete nut case, but they make a good point.