Airport Terminal

The airport departure lounge was quiet. The passengers huddled together in small groups, talking in hushed tones, while the TV’s were muted but still tuned to the news stations as they showed scene after scene of civilizations collapse.

As they sat there under the watchful eyes of the armed guards a PA announcement cut through the near silence “All level 2 response teams report to the Departure Short Term Parking”. With that several guards moved quickly though the terminal and away from the passengers.

With a low roar a large 747 landed heavily on the long empty runway and began to taxi slowly toward the terminal. As it turned off of the end of the runway into a taxi lane the gate agent picked up the phone and dialed a number. After a brief moment listening to the phone, she set it down, called over the other ticket agent and they both walked away from the desk and through a side door.

Again the PA system kicked in “All armed personnel report to the Departure Short Term Parking. All armed personnel report to the Departure Short Term Parking immediately!” The remaining guards looked at each other, and sensing the panic that had crept into the announcer’s voice toward the end of the announcement, they ran toward the parking deck.

As the guards ran off into the terminal the passengers looked nervously out into the empty terminal and across the runway where the 747 was still making its way toward them. Those who strained their ears could make out the occasional ‘pop’ sound of distant gunfire as it echoed down the empty halls.

After several nerve wracking minutes, in which all the passengers could hear the distinctive sound of gunfire drawing closer and the occasional drawn out scream, the PA system cut in “Oh God! They’re everywhere! If you can hear me, please, please, come to the announcement booth, their right outside the door. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God” Suddenly the sound of smashing glass and splintering wood screeched out over the PA “NOOO, Help me, HELP ME!” The announcer, still screaming began to fade as he moved away from the mike “You bastards! Stop, Sto…” he was suddenly cut off as the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground filled the speakers. As they listened, the passengers could hear the announcer as he choked, until finally silence. Then a low moan issued out over the PA.

“OK everyone, we need to get on the plane, it’s almost here!” A passenger had stood up, visibly shaken from what he had just heard, but now, more than ever, determined to get on the plane. “Everyone, get in line, take only what you need, we need to get on this thing as soon as we can, if you have a large bag, leave it”.

People began to form a line at the gate, taking a few supplies from their bags and peering out at the runway as the plane drew closer.

“Hey, the guards are coming back, it’s ok guys, I think they’ve taken care of it!” a passenger called out, as several guards rounded the distant corner of the connecting terminal.

“Uhh, no. I don’t think they did sort it out” another passenger commented as more figure rounded the corner. Looking at the oncoming group they could see the blood across their clothes, and the shambling steps they took toward them.

The first passenger tried to reassure the now panicking group “Look the planes almost here, as long as we board fast were going to be safe, look you can even see the captain waving at us…” As the passengers watched they could see into the plane’s cockpit, where the two pilots were not at the controls, but were pressed up against the door. Suddenly they were thrown away from it and two figures lurched in, the first bloomed with blood as the captain unloaded the cockpit pistol into its chest. Without stopping, the figure reached out, grasped the captain’s throat and pulled. Blood sprayed out across the cabin as the Captain tried to staunch the flow, covering instruments and then the cockpit windows as he spun and fell to the ground.

Several passengers cried out as the scene was obscured and the entire line of people began to move away from the oncoming aircraft. Turning they found the zombies were almost in the departures lounge having sped up their slow lurching when they saw the group. The passengers ran toward the middle of the room, sheer panic taking over. Several ran to the side door but found it locked from the other side and as they turned to see the first zombies reach out toward the group, the plane hit the terminal.

The screech of tearing metal filled the air as the unchecked plane ripped through the wall, shattering glass windows and throwing passengers and zombies against each. Even as they were crushed into walls and support pillars the zombies reached out for the passengers, tearing at their flesh as the passengers screamed out, now crushed against the very things they were supposed to be fleeing from. As the plane’s wings barreled into the terminal the remaining fuel detonated, roaring flame filled the entire terminal, incinerating zombies and passengers alike.

The fire raged for days, burning most of the terminal out and collapsing the connecting bridges to the central building. As the fires roar began to die out the low guttural moans took over, echoing across the deserted airport PA system until finally the backup generators ran out of fuel, and with a final static hiss, they faded to silence.

Something I’ve Always Wanted To Do

“I’ve always wanted to do this!”

“No!”

He gunned the engine, sending the car hurtling into the loan Zombie. As he hit it, the zombie was flung back and then under the car. Rolling, pinned between the road and the cars underside, its leg flings up and catches within the engine. Then with a sickening tearing sound, the zombies torso, in a cloud of blood, sparks and metal was dragged away by the road.

With a screeching sound the engine lost power and rolled to a stop.

“You idiot! Its not like the damn movies! Now how the hell are we going to get out of town?”

The driver grinned, gunned the engine back to life, and put the car in reverse.

Croquet

Blood pouring from his wounds Marcus pulled himself along under the table. He had no idea where the rest of his group were and he no longer cared, all that mattered was getting out of this nightmare and his only path to the door lay with the shotgun he was dragging and the shells stuffed into his pocket. Pausing he grabbed a handful and quietly tried to push the first one through the dried blood caked onto the reloading gate.

As the first one slid home with a loud click the table over his head was violently shoved aside revealing the dull green, dappled white, near naked zombie he had seen earlier at the stairs. It stared down at him through lidless eyes and let out a low hiss as it began to reach out for his face. Marcus swung the shotgun and pulled the trigger. With a violent boom the shotgun tore a bloody hole through the zombies chest, spraying blood clear across the room and cutting the creatures spinal column in half.

Falling to the floor it began to pull itself toward Marcus with agonizing deliberation, dragging its now useless legs behind it. Marcus began to panic as the shotgun, fired in haste, had twisted his fingers with the recoil and caused all feeling to flee from them. He tried to reload the shotgun and kick the zombie away from him at the same time. It reached past his foot and grabbed the shotgun, pulling it from his grasp and flinging it back across the blood spattered room.

In full panic and weak with the loss of blood, Marcus called out for help, hoping that someone would hear him and desperately trying to stop the creatures fingers from digging through his thigh. At the same time he pulled the remaining shotgun shells from his pocket and jammed them into the creatures mouth as it tried to bite down on his hip. Several shells jammed in its jaws and Marcus watched in disbelief as the creature bit down and forced the shells through the roof of its mouth and its cheek.

As he lay fighting for his life he heard footsteps at the door, calling out he saw a figure burst through. The man, who Marcus did not recognize, hoisted a sledgehammer from his shoulder and swung the solid steel head in an arc, past his ankle, and before Marcus could shout out a warning, connected perfectly with the creatures skull. The boom was the last thing Marcus heard as several shotgun shells detonated, taking the creatures head clean off and killing Marcus with a perfectly placed slug through the eye.

The man called Ortane picked himself up from the floor and looked at the devastated room. The two bodies lay motionless and in the case of one, completely headless. Buckshot and slug rounds had blown through the room in every direction, splintering the table and destroying the end of the sledgehammer. Ortane reached down for the shotgun, picked up a couple of undetonated shells by his feet and strode off to look for other survivors, vowing to be more careful next time.

Wherefore art thou?

“Honey, I could never leave you, I, I, I will follow you into that void” stammering his words as he sobbed, he hugged the mutilated body of his girlfriend close to him. He pulled the cap off the bottle of pills and started to swallow them, half a dozen at a time.

After the pills were gone he sat there, crying, his tears flowing down the torn cheek of the girl. He tried to push the skin back together, but as the drugs took hold his fingers felt leaden and his actions were halting.

His vision blurring, he smiled as her eyes opened. He dreamily leaned down to kiss her lips. As the blood sprayed across his vision and he began to slip into darkness, he thought it odd that the love of his life would bite him like that, and odder still that he couldn’t feel anything.

A Crushing Weight

The four moved quietly through the deserted Phoenix suburb, the hot desert sun beating down on them causing the street to shimmer in the intense heat. Turning right at a large ‘T’ junction they quietly moved toward the next intersection and came to a stop, waiting as the leader peered around the corner. He turned around and motioned for the others to gather close.

“There’s three ahead, barely moving, Nate, Mark, Mel, pick a target each, get in close and knife the brains, no guns unless it’s an emergency, can’t afford any extra attention now.” The three, moved out from the corner, fanning out and slipping knives from sheaths with practiced stealth.

All three zombies were faced away from their assailants, the first two made no sound as the blades slid through the base of their jaw and into their brains. Mel looked across as the first two slid to the ground, skipped the last few steps forward, gripped the zombie’s hair and rammed the blade into its jaw. With a sickening crack, she felt the blade catch in its teeth and then slip from her grasp as the zombie twisted toward her.

She dived to her right as the undead reached toward her face, rolling, gripping and pulling with practiced ease, a small pistol she had tucked into her boot. As she sighted down the barrel at the zombies head she heard a heavy sound behind her, and with a rushing ‘glunk’ her world went dark.

Harley, the leader, stared in disbelief as the giant; almost 800lb undead zombie appeared from the side street behind Mel, slipped and fell directly on her. As it picked itself up Harley sighted down his rifle and tried to ignore the crushed and twisted body of his girlfriend. Steadying his aim he held his breath, squeezing the trigger as the giant undead rushed toward Mark. The shot flew into its collar bone, smashing flesh and ripping the lower part of its neck clear. Unstable from the blast the giant wavered, giving Mark enough time to pull his own pistol clear, but only enough time to put two rounds through its neck, before it closed the gap and dragged him to the ground tearing into his face.

Harley sighted a second time, trying to get a clear shot on either the giant or Nate as he struggled with the face impaled zombie. Swinging the sights from target to target he saw the giant raise up and again tried to ignore the bloody mess that was feebly trying to raise a hand to its now missing jaw. He sighted, breathed out and pulled the trigger as the giant reached for Nate. Harley smiled as the bullet smashed into its upper jaw, cleaving a path for the top of the undead’s head to drop down into its torn open upper chest cavity. With a giant shudder it fell to the ground, blood splashing out against Nate’s feet, who in turn stepped back, slipped and grabbed his attackers arm, while twisting his knife blade deep into the undead’s eye socket. As they both fell the last thing Nate saw was Mel’s knife butt ramming down into his own eye as the lifeless corpse fell on top of him.

Harley blinked, unable to comprehend that all three of his friends lay dead or dying on the hot asphalt road. Dropping the rifle he ran forward toward Mel and stopped. Staring in disbelief he watched as the giant undead began to push itself up. Reaching down he pulled his pistol from its holster and started to fire rounds into the undead’s back. It turned toward him as he finished the clip and started to reload. Still staring in disbelief comprehension dawned on Harley. Protruding where its neck had been was scraps of vertebrae bone, all remnants of its skull were gone, as its entire upper head, including brain had dropped down inside its chest cavity. It started to run in his direction and frozen with fear, Harley finished reloading and started to fire wildly praying that his shots would hit the submerged brain.

His prayers went unanswered as the massively obese undead slammed into him, tripping and crushing him to the ground. With the sound of his ribs snapping loudly in his ears and his entire face enveloped in rotten flesh Harley struggled against the massive weight. His vision began to fade as the choking stench filled his nostrils and the intense weight forced his chest flat. Pain lanced through him as ribs snapped clear in half and as the blissful darkness enveloped him he thought back and wished they had turned left at the road junction.

Our Love Eternal

To Whom It May Concern:

Did you know that harboring a zombie is just like raising a child?

To begin with all your friends think you’re mad. “Why throw away your life looking after something that needs constant attention?” they might ask.

But just like raising a child, when the urge comes to have one, it’s something you just have to do.

For me it came late last week. It was a beautiful morning and I awoke to clear skies and bird song. I got up, dressed, ate breakfast and went to sit out on the front porch to await my husband’s return. I did not have to wait long, as I spotted his crumpled body on the sidewalk as soon as I walked .

His skin was pale, blood was everywhere and he was barely alive, but he managed to whisper that he had been attacked by some other survivors out for his supplies. They had taken everything he carried, beat him and then shot him in the gut.

Fortunately for him I can keep a level head in stressful situations, and so I quickly moved him indoors, gave him some water and bandaged his wounds.

He was asleep when I left and it took me almost the entire day to find one, I had to check a lot of old disused houses, dark alleys and other unsightly places. In the end I found it crawling through a ditch on the side of the road.

When I returned home, my husband was awake, struggling against the restraints, more so when I produced the head. I placed it next to his thigh and stuffed an old T-shirt into his mouth to stop him screaming.

I don’t really know why he screamed. Sure it hurts, but now that I appear to have lost some blood the pain is starting to go away. I should probably have had it bite my arm as it’s rather hard to walk now, but love is painful, I know this. He doesn’t scream any more, he just shuffles around the room and occasionally bangs against one of the boarded up windows, but in a few moments I will go in there with him, so that he will not be lost and alone, so that we can be together for eternity.

You see, unlike a child, having a zombie means you cannot touch them whenever you like. You cannot pull them close and hug them. You cannot wake up next to them each morning and look deep into each other’s eyes. You have to keep them at arm’s reach.

But just as a child changes into an adult we can change too.

It is getting hard to write and I am getting cold, so I go to join him now, to be with my love forever more.

Do not disturb us.

Field Work

The four toiled under the hot sun, tilling the earth for the new crop. In the distance, on the other side of the walled town they could hear the sound of battle, but here in their fenced off field life was perfect.

One of the workers stretched and swatted a fly away from his head “Hey Dan, you sure their ok with us being out here? They said they needed everyone to combat stations.”

Not stopping his work, Dan glanced up “You need ‘ta relax man, they’re fine in there and we need ‘ta get this crop in while we c-UGHH”

His words were cut short at machine gun fire tore through the air. Dans head and back exploded in a shower of blood and before the others could react they too were cut down from heavy machine gun fire the town’s wall.

—

On the wall the gunner unclipped the heavy gun from its fixed stand and started to head toward the west wall. As he walked he pulled a radio from his pocket and spoke “Hey central, I just took out four zombies that had wondered into crop field two. I’m on my way to the west wall”

The radio crackled back “Roger, pick up a water jug on your way, its getting hot out there”

Charlie Squad

“Alpha squad, head east at the next alley and join up with Charlie squad, sounds like they’re having some radio issues”, turning to his squad the sergeant quietly relayed the orders and began to walk down the alley.

“Hey Sarge, you really think we can hold the whole city?” asked one of the squad as he looked around nervously, pointing his gun into the shadows.

“Yes. Now shut up and keep moving, Charlie squad should be around here somewhere”

As the sergeant passed a large disused, dumpster a door burst open into the alleyway ahead of them. A blood-soaked man stumbled through, twisting and firing his pistol wildly back through the doorway, until the final ‘click’ of an empty magazine rang through the alley.

The man looked around and spotted the squad, now pressed up against the wall. Eyes wide, he pulled another clip from his belt and started to reload, bringing the gun to bear and arming the chamber in one swift motion.

Before the man could pull the trigger several shots rang out as the squad opened fire. Falling to the ground, he gave a final gasp and fell back against the alley wall.

“What the..” the sergeant’s voice trailed off as he saw more figures moving through the doorway. The heavy combat gear and dark blue logo patches on their upper arms identified them as one of their own, the dark blood dripping from open wounds and shambling walk identified them as something else.

“Open fire! Open fire!!” Crouching down, the sergeant screamed into his radio “Base, we’ve found Charlie squad! They’ve all turned! Nothings stopping them, too much head and body armor… Reload Andy, reload!… Requesting back up! We need backup!“

As his screams and the sound of gunfire echoed across the quiet operations room, the three men listening to the radio channel began to write notes. The fourth man, standing at a window looking out across the dark city turned and addressed the three note takers “It would appear Charlie squad is living up to its promise. Send the containment unit in, prepare to duplicate the results and then we ship them and the other test subjects to Central for foreign deployment”

Lone Outpost

The crackle of gunfire filled the dry desert air around the high walled camp. Spaced sparsely apart the wall guards sat in their chairs, taking careful aim at the immense flood of undead surrounding their small camp and filling the valley as far as the eye could see.

With only two days warning the group had found the three deserted buildings, and begun cutting the surrounding trees down and making them into ramshackle walls. No one had fully believed the runners breathless account of what was coming their way but months of running and fighting had taught them to believe in anything. They believed as the first crested the hill line and stumbled toward the camp, quickly followed by tens, then hundreds, then thousands more.

Mike leaned back in his chair and yelled for more ammo, his hands were leaden from holding the gun and the constant recoil of the rifle. He rubbed his eyes as one of the runner kids ran up the barricade and dropped a single clip next to his feet and swiftly scooped up the empty clips.
“One clip? That’s it?”

“Sorry Mike, Barlo says were down to the last thousand rounds, you have to make the shots count”

Mike growled as the kid ran off, slammed the new clip home and took careful aim into the pressed pack of bodies below him. Holding his breath for the shot he could hear shouts going up behind him over the constant moaning of the zombie horde.

Pulling the trigger and smiling as pieces of brain, hair and skull flew into the dry air; he turned in time to see Leslie struggling to free her leg from the outstretched hand of a zombie as it pulled itself over the barricades lip. As she struggled, hitting it with the butt of her rifle, Mike could see the sea of zombies had risen higher near her section of the wall. He cursed, realizing that she had forgotten her training and had been shooting the closest targets, creating a ramp for the next in line to climb.

Smashing its skull in with the butt of her gun, Mike watched as she struggled to force a new clip in place as another zombie pulled itself up and clamped its jaws down on her leg. “Kill it!” she screamed “Kill it! Kill it with fire!” Mikes eyes widened as one of the runners ran toward the zombie, tore the cap off of a flare, and jammed it into its eye socket. The zombie shuddered and fell back into the horde, lifeless. Mike drew a breath of relief as Leslie, and another shooter held the line as the runner started to push the lifeless bodies away from the wall with an old flag pole.

His relief quickly turned to terror as he saw the first wisps of smoke drift up from below the runner’s feet. The runner immediately let go of the flag pole, screaming for help and ran back toward the center of the camp and scooped up one of the water buckets, but it was too late. Flames, started from the flare, spread along the barricade, igniting the dry clothes of the closely packed horde. As he watched the flames began to spread around and away from the camp, jumping from zombie to zombie and filling the sky with thick black smoke.

Mike turned back to the horde, screamed his rage at what he now knew was inevitable and started to fire wildly into the press of bodies and flames. As the last round tore into a zombie, he jumped up from his chair and ran down toward the center of the camp, arriving in time to see Leslie’s wall collapse from the heat and press of bodies on the other side.

Zombies poured through the opening, flames rising from their bodies and outstretched hands as they made their way toward the small group of survivors. Mike pulled his rifle to his shoulder, took aim and pulled the trigger. The empty ‘click’ rang hollow in his ears as realization he had no escape from the undead, and that he had not saved a round for himself.

Smoke Stack

He had been walking for days, constantly forcing himself onward toward the dim ever present light on the horizon and now as he crested the hills rise, he could finally see its source.

Far below him on the plain, a truly massive building stood. Its grey walls stretched off into the distance, circling the central structures, and punctured with giant openings, leading into the glowing recess. Even from this distance he could see the reverse blades at the entrance, swept inwards, with flat tops, allowing the dead to walk in, but not to walk out.

At the center of the structure stood three spires, stretching far into the sky, belching flame and thick black smoke that blanketed the land for miles around.

As he sat watching, a small group of figures stumbling into view, pursing another who ran toward one of the cavernous entrances. With them closely behind him, he jumped over the retaining spikes, and disappeared into a small non-descript door just inside the entrance. His pursuers tumbled over the retainer and began to mill around the entryway, some banging on the small door, until finally they disappeared into the building toward the glow.

The watcher, with tears in his eyes imagined for a moment that the smoke billowing from the stacks thickened for a moment. Whether it was his imagination or not, he could no longer see for tears fell from his eyes as he wept for what his beloved France had become. Now a wasteland of horror, where hordes of zombies were lured to their final demise in giant incinerators that the watcher had refused to believe existed until he saw them with his own eyes.

He wept, face pressed against the earth as flame belched from the smoke stack, as the fire consumed the bodies and souls of the dead and as a lone zombie clambered up the slope behind him. The distant roar of flame and his sobs covered its shambling approach until it fell upon him, teeth tearing into his neck and spine.

Later the watcher twitched, shook and then sat up, thick black blood oozing from the horrific wound in the side of his neck. His dull eyes opened and fixed on the giant building. With a lurch he stood up and set off to investigate the distant glow.