Zombie Drabble #164 “Last Exit”

There were just too many of them. Frank’s arms were exhausted from swinging the bat; he wasn’t doing any damage anymore. The zombies just kept coming. Frank and Jean found themselves cornered, trapped a stranger’s bedroom, dresser against the door, windows barred.

Eventually, when the pounding and moaning outside became to much, she said; “Frank.”


“Don’t. You tried.”


“I don’t want to get eaten alive, Frank. I really don’t.”

“What do you want me to do?”

She paused for a long moment, deciding whether she really wanted to say it. “Maybe there’s pills. In the bathroom. Check?”


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