Better to Give, Than Receive

November 13, 2011 at 9:36 pm (Apocalypse, Eternal Aftermath, Horror, Zombie) (, , , )

“There’re more zombies here than I might have guessed,” Emily yelled over the gunfire. Her young body jerked left and then quickly right as shot after shot exploded from her rifle.

Devon preferred to get closer and used his two pistols with a deadly effect as he weaved through the growing pack. “Yeah, but do you notice something about these that Haeds left behind?” She was too busy to reply so he continued. “All of the ones we’re fighting are gimped in some way. Look this one is missing an arm,” he said, seconds before the zombie in question spread his brains over the faded sign for a pizza parlor.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” She said. “Many of these are older or injured in some way, which’s a good thing because at least we might have a chance. But it’s also a bad thing.”

He emptied his magazine and while he paused to slap another one in, he yelled, “A bad thing—why’s that?”

“Because it’s just damn creepy that this zombie lover, Haeds, would take the time to sort his zombies into fitness groups.”

“I can’t argue with you there. Come on the high school’s this way. We’re getting close.”

*         *         *

Spencer looked over at Mitch. “This is crazy. After all the work we have put into this place, you just want to bail and not even try to fight?”

Moving his wheelchair closer to the table, Rollie said, “I agree with Spencer. Devon and Em might not even be able to find us if we move.”

“We can leave them a message, besides I’d rather not waste every round we got fighting a battle that could be avoided. I think that’s what Devon would want us to do.”

“I have some doubts about that,” the teen grumbled. Looking at the stocky man sitting opposite him, Spencer asked, “What’s the deal with the ammo, Mel, I thought you were making plenty of rounds?”

“I am and believe me if Devon and your sister are still kicking, I’m a reckoning they owe their lives to me. But yeah, we might have enough rounds to kill off that many as long as everyone’s an ace shot, I’m not saying that we can do it safely without losing anyone though and if something goes wrong, I’d hate to be holed up and outta lead.”

“Can we focus, please? We only have about two days before those Walkers start showing up?” Mitch said.  “We need to spread the word for everyone to pack up and prepare to leave.”

“On whose authority?”

“I was the leader of these people when we’re all trapped with the Rippers. I think I have more authority than you, kid!” Mitch’s face matched his words.

“Screw that. The doc and Brown aren’t even here. Where’s Brown anyway?”

*         *         *

“You can’t do this.” Haeds eyes had grown wide. He spit a wad of blood to the floor. It might have contained a tooth. “The guy with the beard wants me alive.”

“Devon isn’t here you sick puke and after what I heard you did to Anna, I’ll do whatever I feel like and still only be able to put you through a sliver of what you inflicted on that poor girl.” He emphasized his words with a punch to Heads stomach.

After Heads was able to suck enough air back into his lungs, he said, “Enough. Let me go and return my queen to me. If you do this, I will call back my family and let you live in peace.”

A chuckle escaped from Brown and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Your family,” a strained smile could be seen past his stumble. “I had figured that most people that had survived this long into the plague would be crazy, but I never thought I’d meet a person as screwed up as you.”

“You know you’ll die if I don’t call them off.” Could this Brown be slowing down, giving up?

“You’re an idiot, just like Devon said, maybe a special idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. We have vehicles you moron, we can drive away any time we like.” He took of his cowboy hat and leaned in close enough for Haeds to smell the garlic on his breath. “But none of that will matter to you if I put your body underground. My only issue would be whether I put a bullet in your head so you don’t come back as those zombies you love so much, or if I will bury you in a coffin and let you come back, but be forced to live the rest of your unlife trapped forever in the dark.”

He picked up and pair of hedge clippers. The blades flicked open and closed, each time coming within inches of his face. “Now, I’m only going to give you one chance before I cut off your first finger. Why don’t the undead try to eat you?”


Want to get in on the beginning of the Eternal Aftermath? Check it out here!


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