Zombies II: Inhuman
Page 4
Travis’s scream became a sickening gargling noise as his blood welled up inside him and leaked out from his mouth as Morgan chewed. He fell to the ground with Morgan on top of him still tearing into his flesh. A few of the dead stopped to join Morgan in his feast but the rest walked on towards the town of Jackson to see if anyone else was left alive.
With the End in Sight
“Hurricanes came and went doing untold amounts of damage to the eastern coasts of the U.S. Earthquakes ravaged the mountains of the Appalachians and tsunamis brought the ocean to the streets of California. The summers grew cold and the winters became a rain-drenched spring. Electromagnetic lightening danced in the skies.
“Humanity was helpless, powerless to change the course of nature. As our world crumpled around us did we reach out for one another, to try to salvage what remained? I’m afraid you won’t like the answer. We turned upon ourselves like dogs driven mad with fear and frustration.
“Nuclear fire scorched the land and bio-weapons of the darkest origins filled the air. People bled from their eyes. Stomachs swelled not with life but with mutated abominations. They ripped out of our shells from men, women, and children alike to walk the land. In the end, the monsters were called “Demons.” They were not alive but they were hungry…”
Ben stopped as the door to his quarters slid open. “End oral history log seventeen,” he said to the shelter’s A.I. and spun around in his chair to face Marcus who stood in the open doorway.
Marcus looked at him with something that stunk of pity. “Why do you do it, Ben?” he asked. “There’s not going to be anyone left to play back your logs and learn from what you’re recording.”
Ben didn’t answer instead he asked, “How bad is it today?”
The younger man laughed. “Hell is still at our door.”
Ben got up from his seat. “Then let’s go have a look at it.”
The pair made their way to the shelter’s highest point where its communication spire actually protruded from the cracked earth. The dome was the only part of the shelter that was above ground.
“Clear,” Marcus ordered to the force barriers which served as both the dome’s walls and windows. The whole top of the spire became transparent and the two men looked out into a sea of demons and demon-seed . Most of the things surrounding them were the traditional lot, dead men and women with glowing yellow eyes devoid of anything that could be called a soul with a monster growing inside their reanimated corpses but among their ranks, the number of true demons had grown.
Some were beasts, covered in blood and fur, which stood on two legs and clawed at the force barrier with a frenzy that was beyond their seed who’s mindless pounding continued on without ever stopping. Ben watched as a demon with a pig’s face slammed its head repeatedly into the barrier leaving a smear of saliva and yellow liquid. He felt sorry for the maggots which crawled loose from inside the thing’s skull just in time to be smashed as its head made contact again.
Marcus started to order the barrier opaque, but Ben stopped him.
“How much longer Marcus? How much longer must we endure this until the shield fails?”
Marcus smiled. “That’s what I came to tell you. The shelter’s power levels are almost depleted. We have a few hours left on the high side.”
“Good,” Ben nodded. “Then at last we’ll have done our duty and held back the night as long as we could.”
“If you say so sir.”
Ben tore his eyes from the scene outside. “I need to go finish my logs before the power fails. How are you going to spend humanity’s last hours on Earth?”
Marcus held up a small cylinder. Ben recognized its symbol as that of a powerful neurotoxin. “I’m going to get drunker than hell, sir, and shoot myself up with this as the shield collapses. By the time those things find me, I’ll be long gone.”
“It’s a fitting end to our time here,” Ben shook his head. “Why shouldn’t you meet death happily?”
“I suppose so,” Marcus agreed.
“Goodbye Marcus,” Ben said and left the spire heading back to his quarters. He stopped only long enough to collect an automatic shotgun from the shelter’s armory for he too would need a way out when his work was done and the horde came spilling in.
Author’s Biography
Eric S. Brown is a 31 year old writer living in NC with his wife (Shanna) and son (Merrick). He has been writing for a bit over five years and seen his short fiction published over 300 times in various small press and professional markets including the highly praised Undead anthologies from Permuted Press. He has also written nonfiction for newspapers, webzines, and magazines including a “how to write horror” column in The Horror Writer magazine. He has written one zombie novel and two zombie novellas that are available in paperback as well as had published five collections and eight chapbooks of his short fiction.
One can find most of his books online at Amazon.com, nspbooks.com, or Shocklines.com. His work has been praised by such authors as Brian Keene, David Moody, Scott Nicholson, and David Drake. When not writing, he remains a devoted zombie fan and a long time comic book collector of such titles as The Fantastic Four and The Legion of Super-Heroes.
Copyright
First Edition
Published by Naked Snake Press
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Copyright ©2010 Eric S. Brown
Cover illustration and interior layout copyright © 2010 by Donna Burgess
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