1

Fouchet stared at the dusty road ahead, saw the combined shadow of him and his horse lengthen before them and dug his heels into the scrawny sides of the weary animal. The horse let out a high, thin whinny; it was nearing the end of its strength, the sides of its neck streaked with froth. Without proper rest it would not last more than a day, two if fortune smiled on its rider. But Fouchet had no time to waste; he spurred the mount onward in desperate hope of finding shelter for the night.

Lush green meadows and forests stretched unbroken for miles. It was a lovely, warm spring day, the fragrant breeze of the grass and flowers thick in the air; yet the unnatural silence cast an ominous hue over the idyllic scenery. No birds sang in the canopies, nothing rustled in the verdant shrubs. In a few hours the treacherous sun that shone so warmly now would sink into the tree-tops and darkness would descend, thick and impenetrable. He could not see in the darkness. They could.  (more…)

The damned are reinvigorated

in the twilight

their husks

suffused with a new and

unwholesome potency, (more…)

Dan was awake; he couldn’t sleep anymore, not since he was bitten anyway. He had known it was bad as soon as it had happened; late in the zombie heyday, just before the living had mobilised. Dan had slowly turned into what the news reports had warned him of. Just that one bite. Dan had prided himself on his fitness, and when one staggering corpse had come upon him, he had hit him with all his strength. That had been enough to send the rotting man down, but not sufficient to make the undead unconscious and as he passed the victim of whatever mutation or virus that had caused all this plague, the victim had bit him on the ankle. (more…)

The research is still going on in earnest at Easter Island. I didn’t know this before she told me, and with few exceptions no one that I’ve related the information to has had prior knowledge of it either.

In fact, I’ve discovered that the most predictable response to news that the international scientific community still, after all this time, is in search of a Cure has nothing to do with the Infection at all. Instead, most people look at me in shock and say, “Easter Island? That place is real?? And they do science there??” (more…)

SEQUEL TO PART 2

“Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.”

For a moment, when Martin woke up, he was back in the Penthouse, nestling between the Egyptian cotton sheets; listening to the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Then he smelt the damp and realised he was sleeping in his clothes. The stark reality rushed at him like a fresh Zombie.

His dreams last night had been dominated by disembodied faces from the crowd, or that of the mechanic, as he was encased in the dead. He dreamt of being trapped in a phone box unable to get out as he screamed at passers by who ignored him, and carried on their way. His dreams had been a frenzied mash of screams accompanied by the sensation of falling. He had not had a good nights rest. (more…)

“Some things are best forgotten.”

May 17, 1967

No one remembered the original name of the old mining town. A sign long ago placed by an enterprising entrepreneur that proudly proclaimed Hot Coffee in bold letters had won out by default. How Myers wound up in Hot Coffee, Colorado was a long story. However, if he found the final survivor of Custer’s Last Stand, it would make his book like money in the bank. (more…)

Jenny stumbled blindly in the dark forest. Impenetrable blackness surrounded her, engulfing her in a sightless abyss. Not even the scant glow of her tiny campfire was visible anymore. The faintest of shapes eluded her direct vision, dancing instead as obscure forms at the periphery. She stared blankly into the night, trying to hold her eyes still and discern the objects that moved within it.

Her muscles screamed for her to run, but she didn’t know where. (more…)

The tiny gas station’s old wooden door suddenly burst open, spilling sunlight and a man onto the dingy floor within. The door swung on its aged copper hinges and crashed into a pegboard stand of fishing lures to the left of it. Shimmering artificial bait with names like Red Claw and Sexy Swimmer rattled in their plastic packages, pendulating back and forth on dull-grey metal pegs. (more…)