Chris assumed that they would take all of the women and older people first. He had been right and at this point could care less if he was on the last ride out. At least he was getting the hell out. Stephanie opted out of the first flight choosing to stick with her new friends. It only took fifteen minutes for the National Guard to explain the situation and load up the first group. They were up and in the air in no time. With the sun rose well above the trees, Chris guessed that it had to be something like nine in the morning. It was crazy how fast you could lose track of time without a cellphone. Chris thought of his belongings in the courtyard. He didn’t need them that bad. The dead could keep it all.
With Steve on one side and Stephanie on the other, they watched the helicopter disappear over the tree line and head toward the rising sun. It would only be a while longer before they came back for another round up of survivors.
“I can’t believe we’re actually getting out of here.” Stephanie wrapped her arm around Chris.
“I know, this is awesome. Going to be a new man after all of this.” Steve did the same, wrapping his arm around Chris, too.
Chris didn’t reply. The three of them just stood looking out at the sky. The sun danced between the clouds. Rays of light beamed out like the heavens reaching down from above. It was surreal and invigorating to see life in a new light, a new hope. As Steve and Stephanie stood with their arms around Chris, they were unaware that Chris had closed his eyes. He had stopped breathing. The dried blood on his face had completed its job. The undead ghoul that had coughed blood from its torn throat was all that Chris needed. He hadn’t looked away, closed his eyes, or his mouth when it had happened. The undead blood had gotten into his system.
Chris’ heart stopped.
“I love the two of you, you know that?” Steve batted Chris on the back.
Chris slumped forward on the ledge limp.
“Shit, man. I know he said he was tired, but come on…” Steve knelt down to lift Chris off of the gravel-covered roof.
Chris’ eyes opened wide. With a milky white glare of hunger in his gaze, Chris lunged forward.
Chris Commons wasn’t a winner after all.
About the Author
P. A. Douglas is the author of several survival horror novels, novellas, and short stories including Watchers, Rancid, and Horror Stories and Terrifying Tales. His work has been praised by several well-known authors and has appeared in Fangoria Magazine. He is also a nationally touring singer-songwriter, under the name: The Cries Of. With more than a dozen music related releases and countless national tours, he has recently decided to give away all of his music for free as digital downloads. Douglas lives in South East Texas. You can communicate with him online at: www.indie-inside.com or follow him at: www.twitter.com/indie_inside
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