October Challenge

During the month of October - usually my favorite time of the year - I put a challenge to myself with some awesome support from my friend Meredith. The challenge for us both was to write 2-sentence horror stories, one a day for the entire month. Meredith is AMAZING and had such vivid stories. Here are my stories. 

10/1/2014

The flame flickered and struggled briefly before dying.  Her shallow breaths were soon to follow.

10/2/2014

He shrugged his shoulders as he responded to her query, “because you were beautiful and I needed to know what your heart felt like.” Barely a moan when the blade pierced her side.

10/3/2014

It was comforting to feel his embrace, like a phantom limb, like it was never taken from her. His hot breath tickled her ear as she kissed his tombstone. 

10/4/2014

As the sun rose high into the sky, Charlie could feel the maggots squirming in his body.  There was no waking up this time.

10/5/2014

She thought he was nice and handsome and rugged. Cutting his face off just reveled him to be like every other man.

10/6/2014

Something held her just below the crashing waves. It whispered, "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

10/7/2014

Coldness wrapped around her, enveloped her. It wasn’t the air that brought the chill to her spine but his cold skull in her hands.

10/8/2014

Breathless they stopped running for one a second, one moment and they heard it laughing. Laughing like it already won.

10/9/2014

He pulled that long drag from his cigarette like it had a better answer.

“See, the problem is you’re going to die and I’m going to enjoy it.”

10/10/2014

I just wanted to go out, you know, after the break up and have a good time. I’ve been here for days, blind, numb all I hear are chains dragging on the floor.

10/11/2014

The laughter, the all consuming laughter, ricocheted off the walls and rained on me like the blood of my friend being slaughtered, right next to me. Best Friends Forever.

10/12/2014

“You’re not hard to figure out,” she said. “Your blood’s red like everyone else’s.”

10/13/2014

He was gasping, clawing trying to break free when he realized he was never going to get out. With one final breath he screamed, but no one could hear him six feet under.

10/14/2014

Pain was all he could feel before he opened his eyes to the carnage of the wreck. She stood over him, “I told you not to try to leave me.”

10/15/2014

There was something clawing at her inside, she dismissed it as guilt. The agony blossomed until she heard the voices.

10/16/2014

Fingers blistered long before he stopped digging up the grave. The coffin was simple and intact and her voice came from it clear as a bell.

10/17/2014

It wasn’t the blood Vanessa needed. It was the pain.

10/18/2014

“Beg for your life,” he said with a smirk. She flashed her pearly whites as she brought her blade up to the hopeful rapists crotch, “No, you beg for yours.”

10/19/2014

There are monsters in the light. They just take human form.

10/20/2014

Sara’s fingers gracefully touched the charm on her neck. For Protection, she thought as she charged into the swirl of demons, mist, fire and brimstone.

10/21/2014

He stood there, contemplating, for the briefest moment then The Grin possessed his face. They both knew no one was getting out alive.

10/22/2014

Deep down to her bones she could feel the change. Her marrow cried for more death.

10/23/2014

“I thought you’d never come,” he said with a whisper of surprise. “I’ve come to kill you with all I have within me,” she said with a smile.

10/24/2014

It was a bloodbath. She arranged it 6 months in advance and only virgin blood would suffice.

10/25/2014

He clawed at the maggots he felt burrowing in his guts. Screaming he slashed open his belly and cried when there were no maggots to be found.

10/26/2014

She was long dead, gone and buried but she sat in her chair, in his house as though she had never left. He kneeled before her, put his head on her lap and then he felt the bite.

10/27/2014

Walking down the street every person he bumped into took a little bit of him. In the end, all that was left was bits of his heart.

10/28/2014

The blood poured out much faster now she felt like a child trying to hold in such an unstoppable force. “It’ll be okay,” she purred but her eyes flashed a smile.

10/29/2014

The thing to remember is not who she was but what she became, he thought, as he used her skin as a canvas.

10/30/2014

Moons rise and set on such a repetitive cycle. It only makes sense that I would feel such a repetitive cycle to cut you little by little until you stop bleeding.

10/31/2014
Dressed in only the most revealing of Halloween costumes, drunk off overly sweet mass-produced shots, Emily stumbled on the walk alone back to her apartment. When he grabbed her ankle, she didn’t even notice the fall.

The Things We Do for Love

His eyes were the color of the ocean that raged inside of him. It crashed against the sheer rock cliffs that guarded his heart. The ocean raged and tormented and swirled and laughed and never calmed. She saw all this and smiled. She didn’t know why she smiled. His eyes weren’t quite sapphires and they weren’t quite aquamarine or tanzanite. They were his and only his. They grew dark or light as the ocean allowed.

She swam in the oceans for far too long, years perhaps. Her body was raked over jagged rock, scraped, crushed, raw yet she stayed. She clung to the rock face of his heart. The waves would rip her off and she’d climb again over and over. Her fingers and toes became long spiny claws and slowly the waves were unable to rip her down. But the battle had changed her. She became black and bitter and defiant. She was a sea urchin, a rock urchin. She was stuck forever in her spot on the rock cliffs unable to climb, unable to fall. She was prickly and poisonous and even the ocean stopped paying attention to her. Eventually he stopped paying attention to her and he smiled.

If the rock walls ever came down if the wild ocean every won she would be forgotten. She would wash up a fossil, a relic, centuries later on the inviting sandy beaches of his heart. The ocean would toss her carcass in play and it would laugh.

Slowly the sea urchin began to climb. Moving an inch every so often. Slow enough the ocean never noticed. Slow enough he never noticed.  Over time, over much time, she reached the precipice. The sunlight penetrated her spines. Warmed her being and slowly she felt herself emerge. Her shell cracked her spikes turned back into fingers and toes. She had limbs and hair and breasts and in front of her was a vast desert. A barren wasteland of sun and dust, petrified stone and bleached skulls.

When she got to her feet, the ocean crashed high and hard and loud against the rocks, trying to reach her, trying to pull her back down. The ground beneath her feet shuddered and the wind blew hot and fast. The sand ripping at her face. She began to run as she ran the whole place shook. The chunk of cliff where she was standing previously cracked and fell into the furious sea. She ran until the land stopped quivering and her feet began to bleed.

The sun, the heat, the sand, the dry started to consume her. She felt her flesh grow leathery. She could only run in short bursts now along the hot barren wasteland. Unsure if the direction she was going was the right one. She could no longer see the ocean and the sun was eternal. There was no night. There was no break from the heat. Where she once thought she would drown in the ocean of his soul she now though his heart would consume every bit of moisture. She would crumble to dust and blow away with the wind. The wind would toss her back out into the ocean. Her hands and toes once again turned to claws and her skin became the color of the desert. It was all reflected in her brown scales and long tail as she scurried along the fissured surface. She began to forget anything other than to dig and scurry long the splintered, dusty shell of earth. She became lost in the blinding sun.

Her tongue flicked at her eyes, moistened them. She scurried in quick bursts, taking deep breaths in through her nose. Had she been lost for years or days as the sun beat down? There in the distance her heart thumped quick in her chest.  She zipped from under a bleached stone to the shade of a petrified lizard.  It was a molehill. She felt her senses come back to her as the rain started to fall and she ran, rejuvenated, to the mountain. A storm raged ripping up the dead dust and hurling it into the dark clouds. The ground became mud and she no longer had claws and her tail fell off with a painful snap. She was upright and laughed at the storm. He clutched his chest coughing.

The mountain loomed menacing and vile and dangerous. She sneered. Everything shook violently and compulsively and angrily. She could hear the ocean again and the whispers of the sand in the wind. She could hear the venom in their tongues.

She climbed. She climbed with passion and enthusiasm. She climbed with love and purpose. It kept her going until the cold stole the breath from her lungs. She knew she was destined to drown in the ocean and crumble to dust in the desert but now it was certain she would freeze for his heart. Yet she moved. Crawling and she felt her hair grow long. Her hands and feet became stumps hardened to hooves. On all fours, her ears grew long and curled back on themselves and she traveled up the mountain. It was endless night. It was brutal and cold. Her breath froze and her soul was forgotten. For a while, she meandered content with the fact that movement kept her warm. She wandered. Until the night began to laugh at her. The snow began to taunt her. She ran and rammed full force into the mountain repeatedly. Her anger hot and palpable. Eventually the mountain yielded. She reached the top and he stood there with eyes black as the night. She galloped to him. Feeling her horns break off sending waves of pain through her. She was on her magnificent two legs again and she ran open armed to him.

This world fragmented when she felt his embrace. She saw the ocean and desert in his eyes. The cold that whipped around them no longer touched her.

“You have to jump,” he said with a half smile.

“You have to jump with me,” she said with all seriousness.

His smile left him. “I’m not the one the heart wants.”

She looked over her shoulders. To her right a volcano, spewing hot and red. To her left the raging sea, which swallowed up the desert.

“You made it this far to me, you only have to jump,” He was desperate his eyes matched the air around them.

“You have to love yourself,” She said.

It seemed like he let out a primeval bellow but his mouth never opened. He hugged her deeply.

“We’ll jump together,” he promised.

“You jump first,” she said.

He looked at her frantically, madly, fearfully. They kissed deeply and she let go of him. As he fell, she whispered to the storm “I’m not coming.”

His body crashed into the lava and the mountain cracked, gyrated and heaved. The wind fell flat and the sky began to fall.

“The things we do for love.” She whispered to his heart as she dove gracefully into the calm ocean. She watched the world die. Sinking poetically into the sea. She swam to the edge of the ocean and let herself fall off, free.

Challenge #1

***I’ve decided that I once again can’t seem to squash my dreams of being an actual writer. Starting today for 1 month I will take a picture (either taken that day or recently) from my phone and write about it. Might be long might be short might be crap might be awesome. Who knows, let’s give it a shot.***

The Clouds Are Invading

Like fungi they overtook the mountains. Creeping slowly, quietly and once gaining a foothold they seemed to spread and grow. As the clouds rubbed themselves on the mountains THEY emerged and took over. As simple and fresh as rain they fall from the clouds. Tiny silver spiders of light. While the clouds cling the spiders work. Covering the mountains in dew or snow or rain or dust. They work, invisible and they conquer. They claim the mountain in the name of the elements until humanity demands it back, treading on their work. The clouds linger, gripping tightly to every branch and blade of grass. Fighting to reclaim its brother. Struggling with goodbyes the clouds grow on the mountains. They invade, take hold and fall in love. Until the wind and sun rip them apart.

Her Left Heart Foot

Her heart was beyond heavy. It was crushing. It was a stone heart; impeding the negative expansive pressure of her lungs. With each inhale it bared down a little harder. It was tearing her asunder. Ripping through ribs, intestines and arteries it wanted to fall out of her. It wanted to leave her. Instead it settled in her left foot. Unable to leave her fully, her statue of a heart resided as far away as possible. It made her walk with a limp, almost dragging her left foot behind her.

Three months had passed since she lost everything, everything you could imagine. Her parents, sister, brother, dog, goldfish, car, bicycle, clothes all burned in front of her eyes. It was a spark and then nothing. Her parents didn’t have a will or money or life insurance.

“What’s up with the limp?” asked her one friend.  A 18-year-old semi-goth, emo, confused boy named Hunter.

“It just happened,” Georgia said.

“Can you walk on it?” He asked.

“No.”

She really couldn’t it felt like it wasn’t a part of her anymore like it belonged to her stone heart and she was not privy to use it anymore. She imagined the heart was still red. Maybe it wasn’t stone maybe it was a ruby, maybe it was still something precious as opposed to something you kick when you’re bored and walking or you curse at when it hits your windshield on the highway.

Georgia sighed deeply and looked at her left leg and contemplated the usefulness of rock. Besides the biblical use to kill people it was a powerful, yet ever changing anomaly. Water over time could etch it a face. It formed mountains and canyons. It could destroy everything in its path. It was solid, reliable and strong but only for so long. It was intriguing to Georgia, who still worked her job at Dairy Queen because she still felt tied to the town her parents made their home. She worked at the Dairy Queen since she was 16 and 5 years later she viewed it the same. It was a job that afforded her very little but she never had grand dreams, in fact, she had no dreams. She never has. Not even whimsical dreams that made no sense. When she slept, she slept. When she was awake, she was awake. Her days were solid and reliable.  

Since the fire, mornings had started to become different. She’d wake startled, she’d wake exhausted. She still wasn’t dreaming but her left leg started to become stiffer. She decided to go to the doctor. Months passed and the doctors could find no reason why her leg wouldn’t work. They said it was mental, passed her along to a shrink. Out of sight out of mind. Georgia knew it was her heart. It was infecting her leg. She’d let her heart run wild and it wasn’t for love, it was for loss. At nights, before bed, after she’d brushed her teeth, she would grieve for her family. Hoping her grief would release her heart back to her. Hoping emotions could turn stone to flesh.

Waves crashing on rocks have been known to create. The ocean, daily, pushing back can change the course of rock formations. A year had passed and Georgia could use her leg again. She went to a community college to start on becoming a nurse. She got a job at a hospice. She was a bright light in some people’s dark, dark seas. She smiled a lot more and even had a dream or two. Deep within her though she felt bits of rock still floated around her heart, waiting in her pericardium. She followed a slow path, became an EMT instead of a Nurse and from there became a fire fighter. She was even a engine driver. She took a lot of slack from the men but she gave it back. She proved herself and over time she even met a man. It was the only man who had been there for her when her house burned down. It was Hunter. It was a new Hunter. Gone was the long, dyed black hair and metal tees with long sleeve fishnets. Gone were the leather spiked wrist cuffs and giant boots. When she ran into him at the grocery store, she didn’t recognize him. He went off to college. He came home in a suit and tie. She had no idea he was a blonde with eyes as green as emeralds.

They caught up over coffee and then dinner and then in the bedroom. He went back to his job in the city. He was an advertising guy. Pitching and creating. It was a good fit for him. They chatted on the phone every day. He wanted her to move to the city. She could fight fires there. It didn’t feel right to Georgia. They visited each other often but the relationship became frayed. Georgia found a loose thread and pulled it until there was nothing left. They loved each other deeply but distance became mountains and there was not enough of an ocean in Georgia to move it.

Her heart was heavy, crushingly so. She felt it changing back to stone as though her life was borrowed, on reprieve, out on bail and it was time to return, to pay her dues to not avoid the inevitable. Her belly swelled and she wondered if a good person would tell Hunter. Her stone heart rested in place. Her belly kept it still, for now. It labored her to feel its weight and each breath shocked her. She told Hunter. He rushed to see her. They argued. He demanded she move. She demanded he stay. He accused her of trapping him. She accused him of lying to her during heated moments. He blushed. She sighed. He left. She thought it was for the best.

When the baby came everything shifted. Her face had changed, her heart remained stone, but she felt stronger. Hunter came to the hospital. They named him Forest. Georgia hurt. There were complications and she had to stay in the hospital two weeks. When she got out Hunter and Georgia had their final battle.

“You take him,” she said.

“What?”

“You live in the city, you have a better job. I work long shifts and even worse schedules. I’m risking my life. He’s better with you,” her heart wasn’t in these words. It had settled in her left foot. It was rock, not even red this time. She felt there was no bringing it back.

“Come with us,” he pleaded. His eyes were begging, desperately but Georgia’s eyes were inconclusive.

“No.”

Georgia left. With her stitches, her broken body, her stone façade she ran with gusto. She ran until she bled, until she screamed, until everything caught up with her. When she fell, when she stumbled, when she no longer had the strength, she looked up at a full moon, at familiar trees, at the remains of a house. She ran home. How could she not have realized everywhere she lived was within 2 miles of home. They never did tear it down it just served as a warning to the other houses, to the neighborhood. She was in her backyard. Children had done horrible things, weird rock formations graffiti, bible quotes. Something that resembled voodoo. Georgia used the last of her strength to stand up and reach towards her home but her legs went stiff her heart went cold.

“Don’t be a chicken Billy.”

“I’m not a chicken I just don’t know why we’re doing this!”

“Bock bock bock bock bock.”

“Sammie, c’mon this is dumb. We’ve already been through the creepy burnt down Miller house.”

“Yeah and you cried and covered your eyes the whole time, Billy, like a little baby.”

“So?”

“So, you didn’t see what we saw.”

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

“Go see for yourself.”

Billy ventured into the decayed home. Plant life had started to reclaim it. Stairs lead to a half roof where birds and spiders had gathered. He placed one foot on the stairs and it broke, trapping his foot. He screamed.

“What is it Billy? Too scared?” They yelled from outside while laughing like jackals.

“I’m stuck assholes. If you don’t help me, our parents will ask where I am!”

“Whatever, serves you right disturbing that house.” Billy’s face went blank.

“What?”

“We never went in the house Billy. We just walked you around the porch last time. Our parents taught us not to disrespect the dead.”

“Are you kidding me? What the heck is wrong with you? Why would you force me to do this then?”

“To see if you would. Bye Billy, we’ll tell your mom where to find you. You’re going to be in trouble.”

“You sons of bitches,” a phrase he heard his father use. “Get in here and help me!”

The silence grew eerie.

“Guys… GUYS! SAMMIE.”

Panic rose up into Billy’s throat like vomit. He struggled and squirmed and fought and the gashes on his left foot grew bigger. He pried and scratched at the stairs until they gave way and he was free. He limped out the back determined he could cut through the woods and avoid getting in trouble. Sammie was going to pay for this. He’d get him in trouble at school. Just you wait.

He never saw a statue in the yard before. They messed around in the yard a lot because of the woods behind it but there was never a statue. It was of a naked woman, taunt but round with hair flowing back, away from her face and shoulders. She was reaching for the house and in her left hand was what looked like a burnt match. Billy limped over, caressed the statue. He ran his fingers over thighs and arms and when he touched the match he realized it was a real match and it ignited. His eyes grew wide, his finger burned; he looked the statue in the face for the first time. The eyes were real but gray, they blinked and Billy grew stiff, his heart grew cold.

Life Mission - Part 1

In the woods, Maggie ran. Night was falling and the only advice she was given was run and hide, hope they don’t find you. Evolution had found a home in the Bone Snappers. A large, wolf-like beast covered in thick skin instead of hair, with a turtle’s jaw that snapped through bone, even trees if it wanted you bad enough. With an amazing sense of smell and superb ears and night vision humans didn’t stand a chance. The Bone Snappers were taking over, slowly, invading, but only at night. Their food source was scarce, birds didn’t sing and if you heard something shifting in the bushes odds are it will be the last thing you hear. 

Maggie had crashed landed back on Earth. She and her crew stopped receiving messages from Earth and assumed the worst. They spent 5 years in space, exploring everything within a reasonable distance. Searching for anything besides Earth being the only hospitable planet. Unmanned vessels brought back only shoddy footage and inconclusive samples. They needed something that knew what to look for, what to collect, how to interpret things. Hence the Life Mission was born. 

When they circled Earth, it didn’t look like anything was amiss, it was still green and blue, no nuclear weapons, no war they began their descent with no connection to Earth. Two of the 5-man crew died on impact. Maggie, Jeff and Vanessa were the survivors for now. 

Maggie ran, fear welling up in her like the sweat that poured from her. When they landed they crashed in the Appalachian Mountains during the day. No clue where other than that. A few people had seen the crash and rushed to see if maybe it could get airborne again. There must be some place on Earth without Bone Snappers and this was the first thing in the sky they had seen in months. When Maggie and what was left of her crew awoke, the sun was starting to set. A man told her the Earth had an affliction. The Bone Snappers are new predators that emerged liked some dormant dinosaur a few months ago and have almost wiped out life on earth.  He told her there were few defenses against them. Some houses have survived by utilizing a type of ray the government handed out before being cutoff and overrun. It was essentially a shrink ray.

“The sun is setting,” the stranger said. “You need to run and hide, but they’ll find you. Do what you can to survive.”

“How have you survived?” Maggie ventured.

“No time, sun’s gone, run.”

What sounded like laughter amplified boomed and reverberated off the trees. The stranger had disappeared. Maggie, Jeff and Vanessa took to heart the advice. They covered themselves in dirt and ran, in the dark, the laughter chasing them.

She could smell herself, which meant the Bone Snappers could smell her. There was a clearing in the woods, just ahead. Vanessa tripped and screamed.

“Shhh,” Maggie quickly rushed to her and covered her mouth. Vanessa tripped over a rope. They followed the rope. Together they pulled and revealed a grass covered thick metal door, which opened to a staircase underground. Entering and quickly shutting the door, behind them they felt trapped, following the only path there was. They came to a door and knocked. They waited and knocked again. They felt around the door, there was a button, they pushed it. Amazingly the door opened.

“Bone Snappers don’t ring doorbells,” said the child who opened the door.

“Who are you?” Said the adult standing behind him.

“I’m Maggie and this is Jeff and Vanessa,” Maggie paused to see if that would be enough. “We were astronauts for the Life Mission several years ago. We crash landed. We lost 2 crew members. “ Maggie  brushed the dirt away from her uniform patches.

“Life Mission? How long have you been in space?”

“About 5 years.”

“You’ve got a lot to catch up on, I’m Mark and this is Charles.” Mark smiled and grabbed Maggie in a hug. “Come in, come in, let’s get you some food, maybe a shower and get you caught up on the Bone Snappers. It’s so nice to meet other survivors sometimes. We’re so used to it just being the 6 of us.”

“What is this place,” Vanessa asked.

“We built this when the Bone Snappers were first discovered. Sometimes it helps to be a nut job that lives in the woods. There’s the door entrance and we kind of scale down this hill towards to lake so we can have access to water.“ Mark discussed everything so light and easily like we were expected for a dinner party.

They followed him down a narrow hallway and then it opened up to a well-done, elegant kitchen. With his back to the astronauts, Mark said,

“These are some astronauts that crash landed and are only finding out about the Bone Snappers now.” He turned to face them,

“This is our family. My wife, Sandy.” She waved. “Our former neighbors Jim, Beth and Tiffany.” They all waved.

“Hello, I’m Maggie and this is Vanessa and Jeff. We were with the Live Mission that launched 5 years ago. Could someone please tell us what is happening."

“It’s a long story,” Sandy said. “Best you sit down and eat while we tell you, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Would it be possible,” piped up Jeff, “to use any kind of shower?”

“My goodness, of course!” Said Sandy. “You all must need one. How about we do that first?”

“Thank you, very much for your kindness and for letting us into your home,” Maggie said.

They settled in, took some showers let the truth of the world permeate. When they all converged back in the kitchen, the got the whole story:

“The things just showed up about 6 months ago. They’re unstoppable, insatiable and they only hunt at night," Sandy said.

“Why at night?” Maggie asked.

“No one knows, no one who encounters them can stay alive long enough to figure it out and even if they did, they’ve taken over the world. They can swim long distances. We have no way of communicating with the outside world. Or being communicated by the outside world…”

“Unless they trip over your rope while running,” Vanessa said.

It lightened the mood, soft giggles.

“We’re just surviving. We can only go so far during the day for wood and food. None of us have even seen them up close we’ve just heard the laughing, the noises they make when they’re on the hunt and we can’t even hear that down here,” Sandy finished drank some water and stared at her son. “We were lucky. We even got one of the shrink rays and set it up at our most vulnerable point, where our compound meets the water. Well at the doorwaythat leads down to where our compound meets the water.”

“A shrink ray seems like an odd way to combat these things,” Jeff said.

“Yes, everyone thought that too but nothing kills them: guns, knives, anti-artillery, fire or electrocution. At least when they’re small they’re weaker. We can’t crush them or burn them, but we can collect them, let them starve out. They die in captivity after 3 days. I hate it, a slow, cowards’ death,” Mark answered.

“Can I see your vulnerable point?” Maggie asked.

“Sure.”

They walked down a series of zig zagged stairs. Floors and floors. The floor gave away to dirt and there were some pillars one had to wiggle through to get to the water. Maggie made her way through the pillars and stared out over the lake. It was beautiful. The moon reflected off the still waters. It was strange to see the moon from earth again.

Ripples formed on the surface of the lake. Maggie turned toward Mark, who had remained behind the pillars.

“We don’t come down here at night; you really should get back behind the pillars.” 

It was too late. A Bone Snapper rose from the serene lake scene. Mark bolted up the stairs. Maggie ran to the pillars. It pursued. It laughed. She squeezed her way through the pillars and the Bone Snapper slammed itself into them. Put its entire weight and force into bringing down the pillars.

“You’re so scared.”

The Bone Snappers could talk.

“I want your marrow.”

“What are you?” Maggie gasped as she backed away towards the stairs.

“Your bones crunch so deliciously. Your blood is the best marinade.”

Maggie ran up the stairs but could hear the Bone Snapper laughing and breaking through the pillars. She struggled to climb fast enough when she was almost at the top she screamed,

“It’s behind me!”

She flew into the kitchen and before she could turn around Sandy activated the shrink ray and soon the Bone Snapper was the size of mouse.

“They can still snap at you, draw blood, you have to pick them up a certain way,” said Sandy as she grabbed it by its neck and walked it over to a dry aquarium tank. The tank held some weak and dying mini bone Snappers.

“We bury them once they die around our compound, they don’t like the smell it usually keeps them away. They must be starving,” Mark said.

Maggie caught her breath,

“They talk.” She got out between breaths. “It taunted me.”

“They don’t talk, that’s impossible,” said Beth. It’s the first time one of the neighbors have said a word to the astronauts.

“It talked.” Everyone started at the tank of Bone Snappers. They didn’t make a sound.

There was a deep bellowing laughing that ricocheted from the stairwell. It moved slowly but was coming closer. Beth gasped,

“We took her mate.”

Last Resort (Will Be Continued)

Rough Draft - Be Brutal I need to know if it's worth finishing.

We didn’t know the name of the town. It had long been trampled and shredded by the filthy mass of survivors.  We all called it Last Resort. It was the last town not infected. The military made sure to keep it that way. Once you were in, you felt safe, you felt like things could go back to the way they were. Almost. Helicopters circled all hours. We were all forced to stay in the hotel. No one was allowed to visit or live in the outlying homes from the downtown area. It was a coastal town somewhere in Florida. Parents would walk their children along the beach looking for sea glass and shells. When body parts started washing up on shore, the military forbid going to the beach. Still if you sat on the roof of what was once Taylors Tourist Trap you could watch the sunrise with the snipers and it was beautiful. They put us to work.  I was a cashier at the grocery store. We didn’t use money though, not really. It was more bartering, sometimes just donations. It gave you something to do, kept your hands busy, kept your mind occupied. I was grateful for it. The military stocked our stores and the people of the town would trade for what they wanted or needed. Sometimes people wouldn’t trade and that was okay. We even had a tiny 2-plex that showed old movies. That was where my sister worked. You could leave anytime, just don’t expect to be welcomed back, not without a more rigorous inspection than before. We were canaries in a mine shaft. It was only a matter of time.

In the beginning everyday brought a cattle car of new refugees.  Some we heard the gunshots go off as they were “put down” with infected. The ones who flooded in had horror story upon horror story. Some went crazy. We watched them wail and shake and eventually drown themselves in the water before the beaches were off limits. I think the military saw it as a way of thinning out the herd, no one tried to help these people. More food for us, right? Newcomers slowed to a trickle as the months passed the last few who made it needed medical attention.

It was my little sister, me and my friend Kelly who survived and made it to Last Resort. Our journey wasn’t easy, but no one’s was. We started in Seattle. My little sister was visiting from Hawai’i; my husband was visiting family in Boston. Kelly and I realized quick what was happening, from the first flustered announcement on TV. We hastily packed and went down the street to the supermarket, stocked up on non perishable items, some fruit, veggies and lots of water. The infection hadn’t quite gotten to us yet. We filled up my tank and several additional 5-gallon jugs of gas and headed southeast. From what we could tell on the radio the infection started in Reno, Nevada. The people closest to Reno regained the most function after exposure. They were the most dangerous. As the virus spread the people who were infected furthest from the initial site were slower, easier to deal with. The West coast was off limits for us, too close to the clever infected.

Nene, my little sister was freaking out. She went through stages, denial, anger, total breakdown. We did our best to calm her, but she had a hard time. There was no stopping for or checking on loved ones. We drove through Yellowstone, taking the widest route around Reno.   When we made it down to Texas, we noticed the infected were few and far between the heat dried them out. But one good rain could bring them back.

That was where we met Bubba. He was a biker type we rescued from some ashy infected. They were easy to overcome but Bubba was weak, dehydrated, tired. We shared our supplies. We restocked as much as possible whenever we came across a gas station that wasn’t shutdown or locked up we had a strict protocol. Most times we’d need to turn on the pumps, which meant checking for the infected inside the small food-mart. Nene got blood on her hands and as that soon became the norm, she adjusted surprisingly well. She almost became a commando leader. She was really good at mapping out how to go through a gas station for supplies. A tactical, guerilla guru. On rare occasions, we’d venture into supermarkets. They were big and harder to navigate and flush out the infected.

We were usually pretty well stocked, lots of gas, water and food.  Safety and cautiousness kept us alive and well fed. We had a very good system. One was always in the car and the two went to flush out the area.  We were extremely careful and moved slowly. Never rush. The infected became more sluggish, slow and docile as long roads stretched away from Reno. We nursed Bubba back from dehydration. He was grateful, which was a tad surprising for us, he seemed like such a badass. Too cool for help. But the outbreak changed everyone. People abandoned their faith or renewed it too viciously, abandoned their families, went from hermits to socialites, from human beings to rats.  Bubba was a big help he knew the roads through the barren wasteland of Texas. We avoided major cities.

“Where are we headed?” Bubba asked one day shortly after his rescue.

“Last Resort,” Kelly stated.

“Is that like an actual resort?” He guffawed. I drove mostly, rarely talked. We were all pretty silent after leaving Seattle. We only talked tactics. We didn’t want to dwell on things.

“It’s an outpost the government set up for survivors. It’s on the east coast of northern Florida they said we should follow road signs for Jacksonville then head south.”  My voice sounded mechanical, like I rehearsed the speech over and over in my head, just in case. “It’s the only transmission they’re broadcasting on the radios. Directions.”

I flipped on the radio and a recorded voice rambled off the directions to Last Resort and pleaded with any survivors to head there. There was also information on ways to kill and deal with the infected.

“I see,” said Bubba. “So how do you three know each other and why did you decide to save me?”

We all fell silent. The hardest part of our pilgrimage was seeing the people. We would pass desperate hitchhikers. We’d see gangs of scavenger hooligans attack people on the side of the road. Get them to pull over for a child hitchhiker and then kill them for their car. We didn’t take any chances. We closed our eyes to the tears of people. It was harder than killing the infected.

“We worked together and she’s the driver’s sister,” Kelly said.

“Well, I go by Bubba. Y’all got names?”

“We rescued you,” Kelly continued, “because we watched you for a while. You were ahead of us on the road and we saw when you stopped that you were weakened and alone. Riding a bike like that has got to be exhausting in this heat. When the infected came for you we took a vote, we all said yes to letting you join us.”

There was a pause. Kelly’s speech sounded rehearsed too.

“Well, I appreciate it.”

“I’m Kelly, this is Nene and the driver is Lani.”

“Nice to meet you all, I still cannot thank you enough for what you did for me.”

“I have a feeling you’ll earn your keep if need be,” I said.

We chuckled slightly, for no apparent reason. It just felt good to laugh.

Bubba was thin. You’d think with that name he’d be a lumbering large guy. But he was thin probably 30, rugged, dark skin and hair but green eyes. The dark skin was probably from the desert sun. He had a biker jacket and patches. He slept for the first 12 hours of driving.

Kelly smiled at him. She was single as was Nene. I held out hope for my husband who texted me he was heading South before the phones blinked out of existence. Kelly was petite, a red head in her mid-twenties. I’d call her beautiful. Fair skinned, blue eyes. Striking. Nene, my sister, had just turned 21. She was dirty blonde from Hawaii’s sun, tanned, thin with long limbs, like a ballerina. I was thick but the weight was coming off me. Curvaceous, despite how much I lose. Curly black hair and tanned skin, late 20s. We all began losing track of time. We rushed to Last Resort but we stopped frequently. It was a lot of mental stress to take on we tried to stop at places with beds, sleeping in a car made the fear too palpable.

Bubba was a good watch. He took care of us girls and let us sleep. He said he was fine with sleeping in the car. He did take advantage of the showers. Sometimes a shower can really bring humanity back to your skin.

After bubba joined us, the mood lightened, the jaws unclenched. I was no long white knuckled clinging to the steering wheel. Driving came natural to me it was a way to focus, to drown out the events of the weeks. It required focus.  I preferred that to the situation at hand. Kelly even began flirting, it was cute but made me miss my husband.

The virus was something no one had seen before. But isn’t that what they always say in the movies? Kelly and I were zombie movie fanatics, which is why when the TV started frantically describing a new outbreak spread by the blood and saliva of the infected, we fled. Immediately.  Nene cried when we told her what was happening.

“It’s zombies, basically,” I said to Nene.

“That shit doesn’t exist,” She replied angrily.

“What else would you call a virus that is spread through the blood and saliva of infected and regenerates the recently deceased?” Kelly wasn’t getting involved in this conversation.  I had to break it to Nene she was my blood.

“I don’t know but it can’t be zombies, that’s stupid, that’s not real.”

“Okay, but you believe in Rabies right?”

“Well yeah, but that’s dogs right?” Nene’s lips trembled.

“Well, it can spread to humans. It, too, is spread through bites and saliva and blood. It can take months for the virus to reach the brain but once it does it causes madness and death. Once you are showing symptoms of rabies, you’re a gonner. It’s a madness virus and there are several variations depending on the carrier and origin.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with this?”

“So you believe in rabies but not zombies? I just explained their similarities. If there’s a madness virus why can’t there be a zombie one? A virus passed through bites, blood and saliva, one that causes its host to forget themselves, forget their strength, forget their past?”

“Because Zombies aren’t real, they’re not,” she broke down to tears, “real.”

“I’m sorry Nene, I love you but the reality right now is that there is a virus that is out of control, which is killing people and changing them into something else. It’s rabies on steroids. It’s mad scientist rabies.”

She smiled a little at that.  We listened to the radio as things developed and progressed. Initially for the trip we had my dog Butch. He was a small 40-pound mutt but I loved him. I rescued him as a puppy and raised him for 8 years. He was the closest thing to a child I could perceive. I treated him as such. Before the outbreak he was at my side all the time, I could barely stand to take trips without him. The radio told us the virus could spread to animals. It appeared to be slightly picky about its hosts though. If its host was too weak or obese the virus would just kill the host and itself instead of turning them into an infected. The virus understood survival of the fittest. Good thing America was overweight right?

At our third stop for food and gas. We were surrounded by stray dogs, they were infected. Their hair was matted, their teeth stained red, but it was the eyes that would haunt you. The eyes were white, not bloodshot, not glassy they were white but they could see. It was the same with infected people white eyes but they knew your every move. The ones closest to Reno, anyways. We tried to fight them off.  Made a run for the car, we killed 5 or 6 of them.  My dog, Butch, didn’t make it. They ripped his throat out but he didn’t stay dead for long.

The first time I cried after the virus outbreak was when I had to smash my dogs head in with a baseball bat. As I brought the bat down, all I could picture was the times he curled up with me when I was sick, our jogs through nature, watching TV on the couch cuddling. Kelly had to drive after that for awhile. I shook and wailed and slept. I wished and hoped for my husband who had a Lani-Butch separation plan in place for when Butch passed. But nothing could prepare me for being the one to make him pass. I know it was just a dog, but it was my dog and that had made all the difference.

When the four of us finally made it to Last Resort there was a communal exhale.  The check points were extreme but once we got in and saw other actual living people, we cried for joy. The euphoria only last a few months. That small town had a weird effect on us. Kelly and Bubba started dating, well in a way it’s hard to “date” when you’re in a military town sharing a hotel with 600 people. A lot of us shared rooms. I slept in the conference room surrounded by people. The sound of people breathing, snoring even passing gas comforted me that they weren’t dead and neither was I.

The infected were closing in and Reno made it to Florida. The zombies had hit the fan.