Today’s guest post comes from Alex at A Teenage Book Lover….
Hello everybody! My friend Amanda asked me if I would like to do a post for her Zombiepalooza event and how could I resist? I started thinking about what I should do, and when I saw that she said we could write a piece of flash fiction, I thought what better way to celebrate Zombiepalooza than to write a short story about zombies? So I started writing on my iPod. Little did I know that I would become addicted to this story, barely able to stop writing it. So I plan on turning it into a novel called THE DECEASED, but for now, I leave you with this excerpt…
At this point, I couldn’t distinguish the sound of the wind and the moaning of the Deceased. The storm had moved in fast and I hadn’t had time to find a better sanctuary than this tool shed in the suburbs of Detroit. But there really was no sanctuary now, so it didn’t really matter.
As I sat there, trying to control my breathing, not because I was worried about them hearing me, but because I didn’t want them to smell me, I tried to think of a way this could’ve happened. I still couldn’t figure it out.
The Deceased started showing up only about a week ago. The first account of their existence was when three of them attacked a village in some irrelevant South American country. I recalled my eelings of horror as I sat in front of my television, listening to a translator and watching a group of small, dark women retell the terrorizing experience they had had just the night before.
After that, nobody knew what to do. The world went crazy. People were killing other people whenever they had the chance. If the people they murdered were alive or dead did not matter to them. And from what I can tell, I am one of the few human beings in existence. And I plan to keep it that way.
Since I couldn’t recall having a second of sleep, I rested my head against the wall of the shed and closed my eyes. I can’t believe how fast I fall asleep. It’s funny, before this all happened, I could never fall asleep during a storm. Now, it was the only time I could.
My rest was interrupted by a noise that filled me with fear. Not because it was one of them, but because I knew that they would be to me before I could say the alphabet. A bucket had fallen off of one of the shelves and had clattered to the floor. Usually, this wouldn’t have bothered me, but now that the dead were around every corner, I knew my next move could decide whether I lived or died.
I knew they would be coming and I was right. Just a few seconds after the bucket had fallen, the moaning got louder and louder. I got up as quick as I could, sleep still making me a little dizzy, grabbed a shovel off of the wall, and bolted out the door.
I didn’t even look where I swung the shovel, it’s not like I was all to concerned about harming anybody or anything, that was my intention. I felt the shovel vibrate harshly in my hands each time it hit one of the Deceased.
The moaning didn’t die down, and neither did they. I wasn’t even sure if their current state of what some would call life could be put to an end. And then I wasn’t moving. I stared into the eyes of a Deceased that could have been a NFL lineman, if he could move faster than your average walking pace.
He was right in front of me and I honestly thought that was where my life would come to an end. The stench of his rotted flesh seeped into my nostrils, making me want to puke. But that isn’t what I did, I took the shovel, pointed it towards his neck, and shoved with all my strength.
His head dangled from his neck, and then he just flopped to the ground. I just killed a fucking zombie, hell yes! But I didn’t have much time to celebrate, as I looked around and noticed that more of them had appeared, surrounding me.
I charged again, making a straight line towards… whatever was in front of me. The Deceased definitely didn’t mind it if they were sliced with a gardening shovel, they didn’t even take the time to look at their wounds when the metal edge cut them open. Their only intention was to make me one of them.
And then I saw a light, it wasn’t bright or big, but it was a light. And that gave me more hope than anything I had felt in the past few days of me fighting for my life.
I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you to Amanda, without Zombiepalooza, I doubt I would’ve started writing this!