Sequel to WAITING

James Saxton stood up and allowed the two guards to each hold an arm as he was led out of his small cell. He was drugged, he was sure of it. There was no way he would let these men take him to his death without a fight otherwise. Not that there was much he could do about it anyway. His wrists and ankles were shackled together and a sturdy chain linked the two.

As he shuffled past the other cells he groggily looked at the faces of people he thought he knew staring back. The fear in their eyes was obvious, but he wasn’t afraid. Just another sign he was sure he’d been drugged. There must have been something in his final meal. It still tasted good though. He’d forgotten the last time he’d had such a beautifully cooked steak, such perfect fries and peas so fresh they could have been straight from the pods, and a chilled beer as well. He wasn’t sure they would go for that request, but they had allowed him one last frosty cold one. (more…)

Brian was aware that the brain he was dissecting was donated by a man who had suffered from an exotic necrotizing virus. That was nothing new. After all, nearly every brain he dissected came from somebody who had died of something.

He laughed at that thought. It was a running joke around the lab. It had started when a rookie assistant in the University Pathology Laboratory had absent-mindedly wondered where they got all of the dead brains that they studied. (more…)

The tightrope walker places one foot upon the high wire.

The audience draws in, eager to witness his feat.

He presses down with his right foot, testing the line.

Would like more rope tension…

Would like a drop in the breeze …

Would like a safety harness…

………but the audience is waiting. (more…)

I hate them. In a very real and deeply personal sense, I hate them.

Which gave me a strange sort of cognitive dissonance; they didn’t hate me, nor fear me, nor care for me. I suppose the undead didn’t feel much of anything anymore. Except, of course, for an unfathomable desire to consume.

Me and Ella were among the few that stayed in Fairview when all hell broke loose. The rest sought out refuge up North, at the Army base. Idiots brought the zombies, we called them “Zed”, with ‘em, both as carriers, if they were previously bitten, and stalked as prey as they made their trek. The Military bases were some of the first to fall- from within. I avoided the North, now. More and more there were areas to avoid, like an ever-tightening noose. The rich suburban areas were hit pretty hard, too. The rich homes, they were built for aesthetics, and they looked damn nice, too. But their security relied on law and order- police and private security, alarms and other things that are useless now. The inner cities still have some holdouts here and there. Security that was made for the bad parts of town worked pretty well for Zed, and there seemed to be enough guns to keep the streets pretty well clear. They don’t take to well to scavengers, though, so I stayed away from there, too. (more…)

Jenny found herself in a sunlit field of golden yellow dandelions under a clear blue sky. Her knee length dress mirrored the dandelions’ brilliant hue as she frolicked among their buttery petals. She lay back against the cool green grass and let the sun’s heat wash over her; warming her skin and making her smile. Gradually, the sun grew brighter; hotter. All around her dandelions wilted and dropped their petals. Jenny sat up, shielded her eyes from the intensifying sun with her right hand and squinted against the painful light. Her left arm began to burn, and when she looked at it, blisters were bubbling to the surface. The sun, now too bright to look at, poured its heat down on her like molten metal. She cowered under the assault, covering her head futilely with her arms as her flesh began to smoke and burn. Jenny woke with a start and jerked her left arm away from the uncomfortably hot metal. (more…)

Noon, The Next Day, I-35, North of Emporia, Kansas

We tend to drive slowly when we’re traveling with the kids. As they’ve gotten older, traveling has gotten easier, but we still take our time driving. Besides, it wasn’t like we were in a hurry. We stopped for the night in Wichita, just off the Kansas Turnpike. The match had ended at about 2:30 in the afternoon, so we drove for a few hours and pulled into a Holiday Inn to get a good night’s sleep. (more…)

I’m interviewing Malcolm Price, veteran of a US-Army-run concept military unit. There are less than fifty survivors of the original batch of three thousand, making him one of the rarest of interview subjects I have run across. Their designation, “Canaries”, hearkens back to the days of coal miners using small birds in cages as primitive poisonous gas detection systems; if the bird died, the mine was considered “unsafe”. (more…)

Now

“…ster Stanley? Can you hear me?”

The woman’s voice intrudes on my fog. I’m enjoying my fog, it’s peaceful. It was quiet.

“Miisster Stanley?” She stretches it out. “Carl?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Now go away.” I go to turn over and find myself restrained. Ankles, wrists, chest, and head. All strapped down. Tight. (more…)

Fearless Leader Nicky Tesla failed to return on air at the top of the past half hour, all you loyal listeners both among the living and, uh, existence-impaired out there howling with the donkeys. This is Jimbo Weiland, the Court Foole, on KRAK.

FADE DOWN. That was”The Liberty Bell March” by John Philip Sousa, better known to most of you basement-dwelling, bong-scraping mold gnomes as the theme from ‘Monty Python’s Flying Circus.’ Aaaand… we’re back. Well, I am. Fearless Leader is a harder case to argue. As my Dad used to say, he went to defecate and the swine devoured him. (more…)

Waking at 6.00am Daniel usually struggled to open his eyes, but this morning he felt fresh. Last night had been a nightmare. Trying new tactics had worked well at first but soon his small band of fighters had been split up and went down like rookies. Daniel was the last man left to fight off the incoming horde and the adrenalin got him through the first few kills but there were too many. Just before he was wiped out though the server went down and X-Box Live was out for the rest of the evening. As a result he’d had an early night and with tomorrow being Good Friday he looked forward to meeting up with his friends in the pub after work and a long weekend. (more…)

A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story

Joseph had seen them heading out to check out the zombies hanging around No. 4 wind turbine; ‘Sarge’, ‘Gomer’ and Barnes, the rancher that they’d hooked up with two days back. The ranch had five wind turbines built on easements leased to a Texas power utility, and the ranch was unlikely to ever be without power. They had power, and a good, deep well; now they needed food, some kind of fence, and a lot more; an endless list. (more…)