A short story that takes place in a post-apocalyptic world, where zombies roams the face of the earth, forcing the survivors to barricade themselves into their homes, living out their lives with no or little contact with each other. In one house an old man heads down the basement, carrying a food-tray in his old hands. You can also get this story in other formats, free @ Smashwords.
The quivering hands caused the pistol to drum against the tray. In silence, he stood in front the doorway, looking down at the dim light pouring up from the basement. With a sigh, he began to stagger down the stairs. A smell of decay and flaking walls greeted him as he stepped out onto the old plastic carpet in the worn-down basement.
Continue reading “The Meal”
As she pressed her youthful body against the moss-covered tree log, rough bark plates nibbled her skin through her T-shirt. Her heart was acting like a powerful and sweaty drummer solo. She moved eyes moved back and forth, as she listened.
She had felt psyched this morning. As she had stretched the sleep out of her limbs, with sun caressing her freckled face, there had been just one thought in her head – today she would meet her little brother. This positive mind set had now taken an abrupt turn to the worse and now she was afraid that she would never see him again. She banned herself and the little reckon expedition of hers that she set out do, two days ago.
She swallowed and breathed with her mouth open. With each breath, her body became more relaxed. It was dead silent now. Besides her anxious breathing, all she could hear was the faint rustle from the treetops. She must have escaped, she thought, and a wave of relief washed over her. So far so good, she thought, raised her head and let her scared eyes look over the tree.
The sight of a pair of blood shoot eyes, staring back at her, hit her like a rock in the forehead. With a shriek, she shot backwards, landing on her back on the forest’s soft carpet. She watched in horror as the zombie scrambled over the tree. Like a baby who had just learned to walk, the zombie’s movements were clumsy, lacking any kind of rhythm and human grace.
Continue reading “The Girl in The Woods”