Thursday, July 24, 2008

“They’re still out there,” Eve said with a shudder.

“Yeah,” Jim Daniels replied with a grunt. “I don’t imagine they’re going anywhere.”

“It’s like the whole city is affected,” Eve added solemnly.

“All my years on the force,” Officer Reed shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this. The way they’re shambling out there… stumbling back and forth. It’s like they’re not there you know. It’s like they’re not alive anymore.”

“I don’t think they are,” Dr. Porter added. “They were alive once, but not now. It’s like some sort of sick, twisted mockery of life.”

“Chris is out there,” Eve murmured, unable to understand what was out in the streets.

“The man you knew as Chris is gone,” Jim replied as he put his arm around the young woman to console her. She buried her face in his immense shoulder.

“I don’t know how it happened,” she sobbed. “We’ve known each other for so long. We were talking about getting married… But then I saw him with his skin all pale, and those marks all up and down his arms. He was mumbling and his hair and... and I couldn’t tell what was wrong until it was too late.”

“It may be too late for all of us,” Officer Reed groused.

“Yo man, the ladies here do not need to hear that kind of an attitude,” Jim growled back loudly. “We’ll get out of here somehow.”

“Oh are you going to get us out?” Reed replied. “You’re a long way away from your glory days in college. How’s that knee holding up?”

“It works, that’s all that matters. This is my place. There’s a door in the back, maybe we can get to my car.”

“Then what?” Reed asked. “Where will we go? I don’t even think we’d get ten feet out the door before those undead… things get their hands all over us.”

“Well we’ve got to do something,” Dr. Porter stepped between the two men. “We’ve got to get out, warn anybody out there.”

“What if we’re the only ones left?” Eve’s voice cracked.

“Then it’s going to be a long night,” Jim replied.

“Or a short one,” Reed laughed.

Suddenly something plastered itself on the front window of the youth center. It had greasy, unruly hair shooting out from under a trucker cap. It was pale and the tattooed arms twisted in odd angles. The gray hoodie was tattered and the tight jeans had holes in the knees.

“Brains….” it mumbled. “Or… coffee…”

Eve screamed at the sight just before Jim could pull her away. More of the creatures shuffled towards the window, clad in secondhand clothes, Chuck Taylors, Bohemian dresses, black T-shirts, pork pie hats. Some of the creatures had colored hair but all of them had hair that was greasy and disheveled. Almost as if their last human thought was to make it look like they didn’t put any thought into it at all.

“Coffee… good,” mumbled another.

“Or PBR…” another mumbled.

“Coffee… Coffee shop.”

The creatures all made some silent agreement and the mass shambled off towards the corner coffee shop.

“Now’s our chance,” Jim growled. “Through the back door.”

As they rushed to the door, it flung open. A silhouette stood in the doorway. For the briefest moment, the survivors thought it was all over, but then they soon realized that whoever this was, he must not have been affected. He wore something more like a futuristic outfit, like an odd fusion of spaceman and cowboy. Slung low on each hip was some sort of pistol – some kind of weapon that was not of this Earth.

“I’m Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, presidential candidate,” I said as I reached my hand into the room. “I’m here to rescue you.”


Nepharia said...

Aren't you supposed to say something like "Come with me if you want to live...."???

Spoiler said...


Jean-Luc Picard said...

Nepharia is right...that should have been your line.

Vegeta said...

I think i'd rather deal with zomies.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

"Come with me if you want to live?"

That does sound like a good line.

Dr. Zaius said...

Adam 12 would have been greatly enhanced by a zombie attack... Although it might be difficult to tell the zombie actors from the stars of the show, what with their smug witty banter and all.

What the heck is PBR?