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,”
“Are they chained to something again?”
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.”
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.
“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
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!”