Savoir or Madman

September 18, 2011 at 5:38 pm (Apocalypse, Eternal Aftermath, Horror, Zombie) (, , )

As the zombies continued past Haeds,
heading toward the small group, they showed no signs of being any different
that the thousands of others Devon had seen. Yet these undead moved past Heads
as if he was one of their own.

“What sort of demon is he?” Emily asked.

“Either that,” Devon said, “Or he’s the
most valuable person in the world.”

“I don’t care if he’s the reincarnation
of Frank Sinatra; we have to get out of here!” Emily said, her voice growing
louder.

Haeds was shouting down at them. “Now
you will finally pay for your crimes, pay for killing their brothers. At them
my family!”

“Can we just kill this retard and get
out of here?” Spencer said.

“Are you nuts” Devon asked. ”If he has
some way to keep the Walkers from eating him, we need to figure out what it
is.”

Brown spoke up. “In principle, I agree,
but tend to also agree with Emily. Those Walkers are getting way too close and
that, whatever he is, will be shooting at us if we run. And if you don’t want
to kill him… this is going to get tricky.”

Devon spoke quickly. “We’re going to
need to capture, him, but when he’s surrounded by five hundred Walkers isn’t
the time.” He looked up at the glaring sun and then scanned the harsh desert.
“We aren’t too far from our ride, this guy’s a coward and a lousy shot. If he
wants to fire at us let’s make him work for it, but remember just hit the dead
heads and not the nut-job.”

They grinned over at him and then as
one, stood up and laid into the approaching Walkers. Gore flew and bodies
burst, but they were each trying for head shoots and several zombies fell and
rolled down the hill toward them.

“What’re you doing?” Haeds shouted.
“You’re killing them, you bastards!”

Haeds started to return fire, but Devon
said. “Concentrate on the jeep.”

Soon it was being peppered with gunfire
and Haeds was forced to take cover. They were pinning him down and wasting a
dozens of undead, but the others were almost upon them.

“Devon, we need to go,” Emily pleaded.

“No, wait for it.”

“Wait for what?” she cried.

“For them to get close enough for this.
Go!” he shouted and ducked low while he jogged toward their vehicle. The others
followed suit.

“I get it,” Spencer said with a grin.
“He can’t attack us or he might shoot one of his precious zombies, what a
stupid dumb-ass.” There was shouting from behind them. Chuckling, he continued,
“Maybe he just found out that I shot his tires.”

They reached the vehicle in one piece.

Devon addressed the others as the swarms
of Walkers continued to advance. “We need to head back to the ranch. I want
everyone in on our next move.”

“Do you have any idea what that’s going
to be?” Brown asked.

“That’s what we need to figure out. But
if there’s some way we replicate what makes him ignored by the undead, we could
save the planet!”

 

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The Overlord of the Undead

September 10, 2011 at 6:49 pm (Apocalypse, Eternal Aftermath, Horror, Zombie) (, )

A jeep skidded to a dusty stop. It was
just shy of the line of tethered zombies. For the second time Devon saw the
black garbed man. The dark cloth hung in loose strips, even across his face.
The once forest green jeep was now covered in crude paintings of rotting heads
and skulls. It was hard to see more of the mysterious gunman, because he was
keeping the three zombies, which he had strapped into the jeep, between him and
Devon.

“How dare you trespass here!” The man
shouted, as he leapt out on the far side of the jeep. Devon could only see his bobbing
black head beyond the wiggling zombies. Behind the man the horde of what could
have been five hundred Walkers was drawing near his position. The man gave no
indication of concern.

“Who are you?” Devon shouted up the
rise.

“I’m Haeds, the Overlord of the Undead!”

“Oh, is that all,” Spencer grunted. “I
really really hate this guy. He sounds younger. Let me kick his ass.”

Emily grabbed her brother’s arm. “Don’t be
a dumbass. Besides his rifle, those zombies will be all over him in a minute.”

“Good, I hope they eat his brains and
then we can get the hell out of here.”

Brown tipped up his cowboy hat. “Why is
it that I have the funny feeling that ain’t going to happen?”

Devon turned his attention back to
Haeds. “You better get down here or those Walkers will be all over you.”

“Idiot, they’re my friends. It’s you
they’re coming for.”

“Let’s talk. Maybe we can work something
out. There aren’t many of us breathers left.”

“When I see people like you, I think
there’re too many,” he shouted back at them.

“What the hell did we ever do to you,
you damn freak,” Spencer called up to him.

“Killed three of my friends for one
thing and who even knows what you might have done down at the gate.”

“We didn’t kill anything at the gate,”
Devon shouted, while motioning for Spencer to keep quiet. “I don’t see any
reason why we have to be enemies. Killing a few Walkers who were trying to eat
you is an understandable mistake.”

“You’re the mistake. This world is ruled
by the dead. You’re just too stupid to admit it.”

Devon started to say something, but Brown
touched his arm. “Wait.”

Then Devon saw that the horde of zombies
was upon Haeds.

And they just walked past him.

“What the hell,” Spencer whispered.

“The Walkers are ignoring him,” Emily
gasped.

As the zombies continued past Haeds,
heading towards the small group, they showed no signs of being any different
that the thousands of others they had seen. Yet these undead moved past Heads
as if he was one of their own.

“What sort of demon is he?” Emily asked.

“Either that,” Devon said, “Or he’s the
most valuable person in the world.”

 

 

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The Town of the Moving Dead

September 3, 2011 at 7:28 pm (Apocalypse, Eternal Aftermath, Horror, Zombie) (, )

The desert heat hung heavy and still.
Devon felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would
happen next. He looked over at his friends while they approached the lonely
town of San Migual. The old mining towers could be seen baking in the eternal heat
to the north. These monoliths of a different world had been put out of business
long before even the undead plague had begun.

Brown was taking up the rear of the
group and favored his shotgun. The siblings, Emily and Spencer, always used the
best rifles they could find. They loved guns. Devon liked to go lighter. Even
though he had a four loaded pistols strapped to his body, it was his old
machete that filled his hands.

He had been distracted by the towers,
but Spencer’s voice jerked him back to reality just seconds before the familiar
groaning began. “Look at that,” he said pointing.

And there ahead of them, Devon saw that
a linear line of zombies stretched both north and south.

“This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,”
Brown volunteered.

“Are they chained to something again?”
Emily asked.

Devon brought the group closer. “Yes,
some sort of spike has been driven into the ground. It seems to be strong, whatever
it is, because those Walkers are yanking the hell out of them.”

Brown drew up. “This moaning is going to
alert others of their kind. They might not all be tied up”

“Or that stupid loser we came here for.”
Spencer tiffed.

Turning toward Brown, Devon said, “But
again how could one man do all this? Everything we have seen is… well
impossible. No way could any one man string these many zombies up. One mistake
and he’d be a goner.”

“Devon…” Spencer began while looking
through his binoculars.

“What now?”

“Two things. Brown’s right. There’re
Walkers around here that haven’t been chained up and they’re heading toward us
already. And the second is—I can’t see the entire town yet, but from the looks
of things the wall or line or whatever the hell you want to call it, of Walkers
probably surrounds the entire town.”

“How many loose walkers are there?”

“Hard to tell, they’re still coming out
of just one building.”

“They’re all in one building?” Devon
asked.

There might have been a few loose ones,
but yeah, they mostly seem to be heading out of what might have been the high school’s,
gym or something.”

Devon’s response was cut short then
bullets peppered the sands only inches before their boots.

“Get down!” Brown yelled.

There was more shooting, but a stray
bullet caught one of the chained zombies in the head and it toppled with a
splash of rotting gore.

“Has that freak stopped shooting because
he’s worried he might hit another of his precious zombies?” Spencer said in
disgust. “Damn, I really hate this guy.”

“Right now, we have bigger problems than
which axis of the DSMV this guy belongs,” Devon said. “We’re pinned here in the
open and if we try to escape we’ll be shot. And now all he has to do is wait us
out and we’ll be a late afternoon snack for those approaching zombies!”

 

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