Zombie Drabble #304 “Stringer”

She took a knee, snapped seven or eight shots in burst mode, and then took off back to the firing line, drunk with adrenaline: these were the pictures of a lifetime.

One of the sheriff’s deputies was shaking his head as she climbed back over the Jersey barrier. “Why you botherin’ with pictures? If you can shoot,” he held up his rifle, “you oughta be shootin’ with one a’ these.”

“Are you kidding? The newspapers will pay huge for close-up shots like these!”

“Lady, in two or three days, there ain’t gonna be any newspapers, or money. But suit yourself”

Zombie Drabble #303 “Fundamentals”

They had been walking through the forest for more than an hour when she turned around, waited for him to catch up, and then whispered, “What’s your problem?”

“What? What are you talking about?” He was genuinely confused. The others hadn’t stopped, but they had slowed their pace somewhat.

“You’re staring at my ass.”

“Oh. Sorry. You just have a great ass is all.”

“Just keep your eyes open for zombies and off of my ass.”

“Got it: watch out for zombies.”

Later on, she crawled into his sleeping bag. “Only because it’s the end of the world,” she cautioned.

Zombie Drabble #302 “Stranger Danger”

Red woke to a hollow jangling sound, cans knocking together; the early warning system he had cobbled together between the trees downhill. A zombie running into the string, or just the wind? There was a strong breeze tonight, but had to check nonetheless.

He froze when he saw the boy: eight, maybe ten years old, emaciated, shivering. Unnoticed, he watched the boy examine the cans, growing increasingly frustrated at finding them all empty.

“Kid.” Red said it quietly, so as not to frighten the boy. “I’ve got food in the tree-house.”

The boy ran off, down the hill.

“Suit yourself.”

Zombie Drabble #301 “Check In The Glove Compartment”

They got the kids into the back seat first, and then he went back for the suitcases. When the dog got loose, he considered running after it for a minute, but came to his senses when he saw the first few zombies start shuffling in their direction.

With the car doors shut, they were safe for the moment. Lydia turned and climbed halfway into the back seat to get the kids strapped in. He watched the zombies converge on the car. Lydia called over her shoulder, “Go!”

How would he tell her he had left the keys in the house?

Zombie Drabble #300 “BDA”

They could smell the highway for at least a mile before they could see it: six lanes each way, grass median, pockmarked with huge bomb craters and littered with zombie remains both large and small. The brothers made their way out and stood at the ragged lip of one of the holes.

“Thousand pounders, maybe?” Earl wondered

“Shit, I dunno. At least they didn’t use nukes.”

“Not around here, anyway.”

There was no smoke, any fires having gone out: there had been rain, a hard, steady rain, for days. What it had smelled like before the rain, Earl couldn’t imagine.

Zombie Drabble #299 “Fading”

Someone moaned. Usually that was enough to cause the more nervous amongst them to get up and police the gym with flashlights blazing, making sure doors were closed and locked, windows intact; but tonight everyone was too tired.

The moan came again, haunting, pathetic. Mrs. Reese was dying, but not of the virus: her kidneys had shut down. Naomi, who had two years of nursing school, got up and went to the woman, whispering to her reassuringly. That was all she could do: had there been a dialysis machine handy, there would still have been no power to run it.