Sequel to FOR CAROYLN

For almost all my life, my ma told me that my daddy had died a hero.

Carolyn, you were very little then. I was in the cabin with you and your father was outside chopping wood when he heard them. They were all around the cabin. They had surrounded us without us knowing it. And your dad, he took his axe and he went to work and they all went down like bowling pins, one after the other. (more…)

Usually Rachel Harding did not want to go to her brother Joshie’s birthday party. This year was different. She had finally figured out what to get him.

Rachel made sure her parents did not see the change in her. She took as long in the shower as she usually did. She hesitated between two dresses before deciding on a third. She intentionally left her backpack-slash-purse up in her room so she had to run back for it. She slipped her birthday present for her brother into the backpack and then pouted down the stairs and out to the car.

“Really, darling, I don’t understand why you make such a fuss.” Her father’s seatbelt clicked with a sense of finality. “It’s only twice a year.” (more…)

Cord should have been sleeping off the previous night’s overindulgence. Instead he slouched over the bar, his clingy black T shirt felt too small and his jeans were tight enough to feel like they played an integral part in keeping him upright. He only had to nab a few photos then he’d go home. His feet pushed onto the chrome edge of the bar stool for balance as he listened to the bass line of the third song in the Gatekeeper’s set. Listened was an understatement. He felt it vibrating up from the floor through his seat. He set his right foot down on the floor and felt the surge ripple up through the thinning sole of his faded black converse and move up from his leg to his stomach. Pounding. Maybe the pumping line of pure rhythm would give him the energy to get up and snap some shots. (more…)

“Gotta stop the bleeding” I tell myself. “Gotta stop it or they’ll find me.” They can smell it. They can taste it in the air. “Gotta stop the bleeding.” I say again in a nervous whisper. It’s been two months, three days and “Shit, it’s almost evening already.” I say, looking at my watch thinking of how long it’s been. No one saw this coming and I definitely wasn’t an exception. (more…)

Gravel crunched under Ford’s boots as he walked along the road’s sunken shoulder. Marshall idly kicked a pebble off the asphalt as he kept pace with his younger brother. It took two of Marshall’s strides to keep pace with Ford. The brothers had the same brown hair and brown eyes but over a foot in height separated them.

Marshall squinted in the sunshine as he scratched his chin in thought. He had to keep the game going or Ford would win again. (more…)

Mommy says I have to always be quiet like a mouse so they won’t find me.

David remained quiet and still as he surveyed the dark aisles of the long abandoned grocery store. Sunlight filtered through the still intact wire clad glass at the front of the store allowing David to confirm that nothing moved. He silently climbed down from the hole in the ceiling and glided down the aisles pausing every so often to listen. The only bodies in the store were the dry long decayed jumbles of bone and clothing that posed no threat. (more…)

In the Everglades, deep in the swamps of Mississippi, you can find a structure that’s something between a junkyard and an homage to the Great Wall of China made out of rusted Volkswagen Beetles and other small sedans. This is where I encountered former pastor Thomas Lawerence, who preached at the Wade Baptist Church in Wade, MS. I found him with a handrolled cigarette in his mouth, something scribbled on it burning down slowly, leaving a small wisps hanging in the air, drawing out like his sentences accented by his southern drawl.

You have to understand, first of all, that this is only what happened with our congregation. I can’t speak for religious leaders or churches worldwide, or hell, even nation-wide, but if they were anything like us, there were reasons they were overcome by the dead. Just try not to make assumptions, and don’t let my opinion speak for what’s left of organized religion, or those who fell from it. (more…)

Zenith had planned this day for weeks, ever since he heard about the Blood Rains: the Second Step coming out on Christmas eve. He told his family not to plan anything until after 3 p.m. that required his showing up because he was dead set on seeing it opening day. They complied, as parents often do with a favorite firstborn. In their eyes, Zenith was worth the inconvenient delay of a few hours, so they placated his sisters with a morning full of carols and brunch and planned a festive family dinner together: no problem. (more…)

I thought of death often.

At times I yearned to drown myself in the mountain streams, or wander off into the forsaken lands beyond the forest, to be torn and tortured by the walking dead.

I suppose the entire town considered giving up at some stage. We had all lost someone we loved to those who walk the earth and feed off the living. After losing my wife to flesh eaters… God knows what I’d do if I had to lose my father and my little boy as well. (more…)

Wayne carefully opened the curtains and peeked out.

“It’s quiet outside” he said. “I’m going to the shops, get some supplies.”

Simone turned her head in the direction of his voice, glad for a noise other than the baby’s unending cries. “Have you got the gun?” she asked.

“Yes” (more…)

We let the second-generation creatures get away with it. They stole the wings off all our butterflies so they could fly, so they could claim their share of what was left of the irradiated skies. We held our breath as they drank from the undulating pitcher plants, wishing we had long ago learned to adapt to the predatory movements of those plants. (more…)