A particularly grim excerpt from Book 2 of The SAGA of the DEAD SILENCER, Grace Among the Dead
SETUP: Well, let’s just say it’s still early in the narrative and Derek Grace is leaving the scene of something he’s going to need serious (as opposed to ludicrous) redemption from, in this “Tale of Love and Redemption, of the Living Dead and a Monster Truck.”
I drive away. In my rear view mirror I see Deputy Grayson screaming at his wife as the dead cowboy and his companion close the distance. He’s opening the door to his cruiser and pulling the shotgun from its rack. His wife is trying to start the van, but it seems the slug that took out the tire damaged something else.
Crossing the little bridge over the creek, I nearly hit three ghouls stumbling over to check out the commotion. One of them used to be a little girl, judging by what’s left of the dress hanging on her scabbed-over bones.
You don’t often see undead children, but when you do, it’s a mess. Not having a lot of mass and meat to begin with, they’re usually thoroughly gnawed over, if not ripped apart.
The two used-to-be young men reach towards my open window high on the truck, moaning through their dried blood-beards in frustration. The little girl-thing, though, she’s all business. She’s zeroed in on the screams and small arms fire of the feast ahead.
I pass another group of five making their way to the house, then a group of three, and one lone walker as I make my way to US 24 and ride off into the sunset. I’d pop a few of them, but I need to find a place to get settled before dark.
...and there you have it. A little #FridayFeeling, as we know it in the zombie apocalypse. Everyone stock up and stay safe. Not from the zombies, but from the spell of weather we’ll have blowing in this weekend. The worst of the winter is just ahead of us—and it will be just as quickly behind us, so I’ll keep working. While you’re waiting around for me to finish my third book, you could pick up the first two. It’s going to be a great weekend for hot chocolate and zombie-slaying.
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