There were ten of them, until there were eight, and a while later, five. When they were five they came down-river; carefully, slowly, silently, because they had learned. Five came through Mount Hope, Goddard. Five went to the Witchita Airport to see if they could find a fueled plane and then there were only two.
"What now?" It was a whisper, face pressed against a black tar roof.
"Wait."
"They'll just go away?"
"Eventually."
"It gets hot this time of year. Dawn soon."
"We wait." He closed his eyes. "Until they thin out. Then we make a break for it."
I can't help but think of the rules of survival from Zombieland. Nice work!
ReplyDeleteGreat movie :-) The death of (SPOILER) still haunts me... ;-)
DeleteI love that first line, but the whole piece has a great structure to it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading! :-)
DeleteAwesome writing! It leaves you feeling terrified yet it never describes the danger.
ReplyDeleteThank you! Yeah, my rule is that zombie stories aren't really about zombies at all, and if you get caught up in describing them or describing zombie combat you've sort of lost the thread.
Deletezombie stories aren't really about zombies at all . . . oh, well said David. As is this piece. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! :-)
DeleteI'm not sure how many different ways I can say it, but your dialogue is nearly flawless. I look forward to the first signed copy of your book. ;)
ReplyDelete