Zombie Drabble #106 “Atop The Flimm Building”

Someone yelled in an adrenaline fueled panic, “They’re coming up the stairs!” Backpack guy, that was his cue. He climbed onto the ledge, looked down 58 stories, and leapt off.

“Jesus!” someone exclaimed, and we all leaned over to look. By the time my eyes found him his chute was open; one of those ram-air ones. Apparently he’d never really learned to steer it, because he slammed into the side of the building and then plummeted to the ground, where the undead masses converged to consume what was left.

“Serves him right,” offered Carl from Accounting. “‘Be prepared’, my ass.”

Zombie Drabble #105 “Ranch Hands”

“Cattle’s spooked,” Jim observed. They were moving hurriedly towards the stream, away from the fence line. Through the scope, he saw what they were trying to escape.

A single figure, clothes disheveled, skin gone leathery from exposure and ashen from decay. It battered at the fence, straining to get at the food it smelled beyond.

“Does it want us or the cows?” Manny wondered aloud.

Jim shrugged. “I figure brains is brains.”

Manny watched it for a minute, before asking nervously, “it can’t get through that fence, right?”

Jim snorted disgust at the question. “We have rifles, there, city boy.”

SF Drabble #91 “Exterminators”

They were a pre-industrial society. The towns were centered around massive stone buildings: churches, government halls maybe. We know their body shape more from armor we’ve found intact than from the bones. Their swords, other edged weapons, are everywhere. They wouldn’t have had a chance against the Spirak drones. When the pods opened there must have been a hellish slaughter, even worse than our colony on Gwendolyn.

We found the Queen and her ship easily enough. We did a lot of damage to both before she could escape. Maybe next time we’ll catch her before she wipes out the locals…

SF Drabble #90 “War Story”

I was captured on the third day. Taylor and Wong were sucked out into space, but I was strapped in and wearing my space suit so I lived. With no power, no way to run, I just sat there in the pilot’s chair of my drifting gunboat, while the battle raged all around. Occasionally there would be a bright flash, and I would know someone had been even less lucky.

After many hours, the enemy reeled me in with a grappling hook. They keep us on the moon: I can see Earth from my cell. I wonder what’s happening there.