Zombie Dribble: Remembering the Dead

As I sit looking at our graves, I remember when Memorial Day used to be for soldiers, airmen, sailors, and marines.   Now, it is for everyone.  It's for the dead who are buried, the dead we have killed, and the dead who still roam.  We dug the graves.  We remember.

Zombie Complex rising from a grave?

Zombie Flash Fiction: Zombies BRB!

     My online meeting is beyond boring.  The subject matter expert is just droning on and on while the developers take copious notes.  My ability to look out my home office window is the main advantage to working from home.  Plus, I don't have to dodge the dead during the morning commute.  Meetings are always tedious.  Today, I see a couple of the dead shuffling around in the neighbor's yard.  They seem pretty listless and are wandering back towards their side yard.  They are such a nuisance.  I should probably call the Home Owners' Association after my call ends.

  

     I glance back down at my computer.  The developers are showing some screen mockups.  I had hoped to avoid the conversation, but now they are discussing fonts and colors.  I put my head down in my hands.  It's official.  This call will never end.  I look back up and Mrs. Lindquist has pulled her old Buick up into her driveway and is rummaging in the back of her trunk.  She's nearly 80 years old.  She doesn't need to carry all those groceries.  I also don't think she saw the dead guys in her side yard.  

     

    "BRB," I type into the chat window.

   I knock on my window.  She doesn't hear me.  Crap.  I pull up my blinds and open my window.  It won't budge.  It's locked.  I find and flip the latch and throw it open.

     "Mrs. Lindquist!  Mrs. Lindquist!," I yell at the top of my voice.

     She just turns around and waves.  Unbelievable.

     "Hey!  Somebody needs to go on mute," I hear in my headphones.  I tear them off and fling them onto my desk.

     "Zombies!"  I yell.  "Watch out!"

     She still doesn't hear.  I get up and knock over my iced coffee.  I dive across the bed to the gun safe.  The keys are in the door.  It doesn't matter.  I have no kids.  I grab my cowboy rifle.  It's a stainless Rossi lever-action in .45 Long Colt.  I crank a round into the chamber.  Damn it!  I'm too late.  The dead are already upon her.  I punch out my screen with the barrel.  Today, I have to use three rounds instead of two.

Zombie Flash Fiction: Inside The Z Suite

     "So what's our vision?"
     Silence.
     "O.K., Janet, what's our vision?"
     "Well, our vision is to have a flourishing human world with advancing technology and no zombies."
     "Brilliant.  That's very well put."
     "So what's our mission?"
     Silence.
     "Anyone?  How about you Bob?"
     "Sir," Bob said.  "Our mission is to be a self-sufficient human stronghold that sustains itself through agriculture and foraging and that eliminates all zombies in our area of control."
     "Excellent.  I think that is an excellent Mission Statement.  Good job guys.  Good session.  Next time, let's conceptualize our enemy. We'll define zombies."
    Bob looked around the conference room.  He made eye contact with Janet and saw her raise an eyebrow.  He took a deep breath.
    "Sir," Bob said.  "What about weapons, ammunition, food, seeds, and irrigation?"
    "Yes.  Yes.  I guess you'll have to get your people moving on those sorts of minor details and report back to us next week."
    "Any other questions?"
    Silence.
    "Great.  Let's talk about the golf outing!"

Zombie Drabble: The Woman is Strong

     "I don't think I can deal with this," Randy said shaking his head.

     "I know," Mike replied.  "The prospect of being disemboweled makes me shudder."

     "We can't go out there," Randy continued.  "We might die."

     "The dead are so," Mike paused wiping his tears, "grotesque."

     "I'm hot, I'm tired, I'm hungry," Mike continued.  "I'm so thirsty."

     "I'm parched too."

     A slender figure in black emerged from the shadows.  It was Sandra.  She had a shotgun, she racked the slide, and she opened the door.

    "Where are you going?" Randy asked.

    "I’m hungry and I can't wait for you girls forever."

     

Science Fiction / Flash Fiction: Beyond Time

A fellow author, T. Alan Horne, once lamented on Twitter that so many science fiction stories featured scenes from beyond time or in space where the normal rules of space and time don't exist, but that so much of that temporal fiction followed traditional sequential rules.  I wondered what a story from a setting like that might be like.  



While this blog is typically dedicated to zombie horror, here's my attempt at breaking the temporal rules of science fiction.  It's a little bit of flash fiction from ---

Beyond Time

Turn the wrench. 

Forget the bleeding. 

Dirk screamed, "I'm hit." 

Tethered. 

Thank God for the self-sealing suit. 

Dirk had to repair the jump drive. 

Blood spattered the visor.

Spinning in space. 

Aaaaah. The pain was excruciating. 

Incoming fletchette rocket darts. 

Hard to see.

Turn the wrench. 

Forget the bleeding.

Dirk screamed, "I'm hit."
Tethered.

 

Public Domain photo from George Eastman House / No restrictions

Zombie Dribble: Same Story Different Day.

“What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know.  What do you want to eat?”

“You want McDonald’s?”

“No.”

“How about Wendy’s?”

“No.”

“How about Popeye’s?”

“No.”

“How about Steak-n-Shake?”

“Okay.”

“Drive thru?”

“I’m not getting out of this truck.”

“They look dead.”

“Okay.”

“Well hand me my tomahawk woman!”

Steak-n-Shake - photo by Ed! at English Q52 / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

What's in the "Worlds of Pain" blog?

Thanks for visiting Worlds of Pain.  If you are a fan of the zombie genre, I think you'll find lots to read on this blog.  You'll find flash fiction, short stories, a longer 6-part serial short story, and even short poems (zombie haiku, zombie cinquains, and even goofy zombie limericks).  

Ultimately, this is an author blog and I hope to gain your support as a reader.  I hope you'll be entertained--and perhaps shocked and horrified--by your visit and that you'll find yourself comfortable with my writing style, level of violence and gore, and story content.  I hope that you'll enjoy my novel and my short stories.  Your purchases and Amazon reviews help fuel my writing efforts and make it easier to carve out time away from the real word.