“OK boys get down!” The heavily bearded man yelled out as he ran back toward the trench, away from the heavily fortified building and trailing two detonation cords behind him.
Three days ago they had met him while scavenging through the now deserted mall. While they had been looking for food, he had been on a mission to collect very specific items. At first he was reluctant to tell them what he was after, but eventually they coaxed it out of him. He needed bomb making equipment. He already had enough fertilizer to take out a city block, he just needed some detonation cords, some flare guns and a few simple electronics. Dave and Mike agreed to help in exchange for food, it was either that or continue to dodge zombies and eat rats, and they were both sick of rats.
Over the next day they loaded the equipment onto a cart, carefully following his instructions, ever weary of accidentally detonating the device. In the evening they dined on canned beans, made ‘oh so sweet’ compared to the garbage they had eaten over the last three months.
On the third day, as the sun began to wane, they wheeled the cart from his abode and set off for the tall building. As they approached, they could see that was once a large office building had been heavily fortified, inside and out, with the occasional dark shape moving across the barricaded windows.
“Alright boys, there’s a ditch about 300 yards over there” Pointing toward some burnt out cars “You get your heads down, I’m going to set this stuff up and I’ll be with you shortly”.
As the man slid into the trench he grinned and pushed the first firing cord into the detonator “Lets watch the pre-game show boys!” and twisted the detonator. With a roar the thirty flare guns they had assembled, fired, sending a multitude of colors into the night sky.
“What the hell are you doing!” shouted Dave “You’re going to attract every zombie for fifty miles!”
“That’s right boy, and when they get here I’ve got a special present for them”
Mike, wide eyed with fear could see shapes rushing around behind the dark barricaded windows.
“The bomb? You’re going to try and blow them all up?”
“God no boy, I’m going to blow the door off of that building!”
“What? Why? What’s in there?”
In the distance they could hear the moans as a thousand zombies headed toward the now falling flares. The old man smiled, the flare light illuminating a dark glint in his eyes.
“Telemarketers boys, that buildings full of Telemarketers”