Well, the guys at TOWWZ were mildly impressed by my story of fighting off zombies in the Amazon. By mildly impressed, I mean they threatened me with a restraining order, but didn’t follow through. And by fighting off zombies in the Amazon, I mean ducking and jiving, and climbing lots of trees, and pushing fat guys into the shuffling herds of the undead.  I’d rather not talk about zombies, though. (more…)

1 – The Victor

Two men entered at either end of the ring, marked only by small rocks crudely laid out on the dirty ground; a mixture of sand, dry mud and the odd patch of grass which remained resistant to the foot falls of the many who had stood there. The crowd surrounding them cheering and hooting, fists pumping in the air brought to a frenzy of the spectacle they were about to witness. (more…)

Involuntarily my face screws up in anguish. My eyes clenched to prevent escaping tears. I want to heave with sobs and shout and rage at the injustice, at the horror, and at the loss of it all. I want to stand up and take my gun and fight until every last one of those things is a proper corpse. Just as it should be. I screw my face up harder. I can’t take this anymore. I think of happier times. Her third birthday, on a beautiful summer, sunny day. Unlike mine in the depths of January, her birthday will always be full of sun and laughter. In a pretty pink party dress and light up trainers, set off with a pair of Mum-made tissue fairy wings. She bounces around singing some inappropriate pop song while I try, and fail, to fashion a horse from balloons for her rapt friends. Here and now, my chest aches from holding back great, tearing sobs. I bury my nose in her soft blonde hair. It smells of smoke and grime but beneath that it still her unmistakable sweet smell. My girl. My daughter. (more…)

Looking across the sofa at Harry now, playing with Lola, our War Orphan Adoption Act baby, it’s difficult to believe the circumstances in which I first met my husband.

(more…)

The hunter sat with his back against the thick loblolly pine and felt his shoulders dig into the wet bark. The gnat hat, a screen of camouflage mesh, covered his face and neck, but still the little bastards made their way in and attacked his sweaty skin. As they took their blood meal, his only reaction was to blink and will them to hurry it up. He absolutely refused to move. Movement gave you away. (more…)

[I walk past the Desert Road “Checkpoint Conrad” post, on the way to my next New Zealand appointment as a stringer for this collection of World War Z survivor stories. Dr Katie Mulcannon looks up from her laptop and welcomes me into her mobile assay lab.

Sit down. Okay, so where do I begin? I’m Dr Katherine Mulcannon, microbiologist and troubleshooter for the Republic of New Zealand National Unity Government, which means that I have strategic expertise in the area of zombie infection. (more…)

“Hey, nahnie, nahnie, hey, nahnie, nahnie, hey, nahnie, nahnie, nigh.”

She stabbed her bare toes at the dry, hard-packed dirt to get some purchase to turn her swing in circles until she would eventually let the chains spin her around as they unwrapped themselves.  But though she had the single-mindedness of a child, she seemed to forget what she was trying to do.  She’d freeze and the swing, turned only once, would quickly right itself.  Then she would sing the same chant in the same way and, using her toes, would turn the swing again. (more…)

A shimmer of heat hung over the line of bush. Cicadas trilled endlessly. A slow breeze blew the foulness in from the west.

“They’re out there, just behind the line of bush,” Danville grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “We got people to shoot.”

“They’re not people,” Pa glowered. “You don’t say that in front of my son. It’s his first time and I don’t want it messed up for him. It’s enough with the churches already. Those things have got worms in their heads and there’s nothing there anymore. Just the flesh. No humanity. You hear that Vince?” (more…)

What do the dead want?  To the most casual observer to any apocalypse concerning the dead getting up and walking around, the usual answer is mindless hunger, just a dead body re-activated by a virus that propagates itself endlessly.  And I suppose they’re right, of course.  But there are always two sides to an argument, even if one side can’t articulate its statements anymore beyond the odd groan.  But what is hunger?  It’s a need, an imperative, a want.  And what is love if not the same thing? (more…)

SEQUEL TO LONESOME

One Month After The Darkness – Salvation

How many times have I been down this road and never noticed this place? It’s not exactly hidden, but I also haven’t been through here in years. I pull the pickup on to the shoulder, kicking up long undisturbed dust as I squeeze the truck to a stop. I step out, grabbing my 9mm and the keys before closing and locking the door. You can never be too safe; things just aren’t the way they used to be.

(more…)

Sally’s eyes are red rimmed. She stalls during the conversation. Something comes over her. Her date asks if she’s alright, why she looks so sad.

She responds and says that, “I’ve been crying all day.”But that’s not true, is it, Sally? She hasn’t been crying all day, but her eyes have continued to water. And it feels like crying, but there’s no emotion involved, no tender sadness. No warmth in her chest that rises up and pushes out the tears. Instead, they just flow, watering her irises. (more…)