I wondered if this whole thing should become one of those ads in a gun magazine. You know, the kind you’d see next to the monster truck magazines at check out lanes all over the south. A big picture of the latest word in pistols, shotguns, or rifles, full of garish ads for laser sights, gas masks, and calendars of half naked women cradling fully automatic weapons. Yeah, I could see it now. “The day the world ended, and I all had to count on was my trusty Smith & Wesson.” That would be printed across the top of the page in bold letters. Below it would be a picture of a ragged but defiant survivor, calmly cradling the zenith of firearms technology. (more…)

Dear Jessie and Bill,

I don’t know where you are or if I’ll ever see you again. The events of today have shocked and confused the world, but they’ve shocked and confused me even more. I’m still not sure if any of this is real, but you two are gone, so it must be. If I can never find you again, then I made a terrible, selfish mistake letting—no, forcing—our family to be separated. If you are safe, I hope you won’t read this until you’re eighteen or older. What happened today was terrible. That much is obvious even to young kids like you. For our family, though, it was doubly terrible, which you probably don’t know about. I don’t know how to explain it to you, or even if I should explain it. I hope to see you both someday soon, but I won’t tell you about it then. I’ll let you read this when the time is right . . . if the time is ever right again. (more…)

Zombies
He paints them with his gun
colors of red and bone
like bursting balloons
the “Bang” is the same (more…)

I often think back to when everything was so complex, and I don’t know whether I should burst into tears, or smile solely because I managed to live through the war. When Zack started showing up in Maryland after the refugees made their way into the States, from Africa and China, I knew we were fucked from the beginning. I remember sitting around the tube watching CNN with Paul, my best friend, and this was when the outbreak was still west of the Rockies. Still focusing on the television he blankly muttered out, “Militia. We have to join a militia, it’s the only way we beat this thing.” (more…)

You’d never believe it, but the true badasses, the real fucking heroes of this entire thing were not the soldiers (‘we are SO ready for the last war’), the police, the government, the “human spirit” or even Zack. No. The real fucking heroes are the pizza delivery guys. I shit you not. (more…)

…but they pulled the rifle away from me, twelve hands, sixty fingers on the long barrel. It went off and one of the grey faces
exploded like a kicked, albino pumpkin. Now that the weapon was gone I could only try and re-close the door. (more…)

I came to in a muddy stupor. Screaming, fucking screaming was my alarm clock, on the hood of my car, someone was being devoured. How I was still alive I had no idea, the G was picking Prick up and slamming him down on the hood by his ribs, I shook my head as clear as I could and grinned as the first thing I saw was the G’s greasy fingers dug completely into Prick’s ribs, to the first knuckle. His head cracked the windshield. He was still alive. (more…)

–It was never clear where or how these patrons ended up going. The “how” was eventually taken care of first by a busboy, then a cop, then a coroner, then a bunch of people in green scrubs saying, “what the fuck?” quickly before they had their throats ripped out. (more…)