by Ann Riley
“What is it?” I ask him.
“I thought I saw movement out there.” He says.
He goes into the house and comes back with binoculars. He scans the tree line right to left, then stops, staring.
“Mother fucker. It was that bitch. And a man is with her. They are both out there staring at us.” Marc says.
“The bitch that was at the blown house?” I ask Marc.
“Hell yeah. That fucker is crazy. The only way to stop her is with a bullet.” Marc says.
I stand up to reach for my rifle.
“Don’t bother. They saw me looking back at them and turned back into the woods.” Marc says.
“Well, isn’t this just great? We have to nut bags stalking through the woods spying on us and plotting their next move on us.” I say.
“Well, I’ve got a surprise for them.” Marc says.
“Trey? Do we still have those bear traps you found at that camp house a few years back?” Marc asks.
“Yeah. I found four of them. They need to be cleaned up and sprayed with WD 40.” Trey says.
“Well, if we can’t kill them, we’ll cripple them.” I say with a snort.
“As big as those traps are, they’ll have missing limbs if they get caught in them.” Marc says.
“Serves their asses right.” Diane says.
I guess rebuilding the world has to be put on hold due to idiots trying to kill us. Hopefully, we can start scouting soon and trying to gather as many as possible to help. If we don’t work together, the human race will not survive. I would like to see a community started. One where laws are put back in place and followed. The world cannot exist without law and order. This has been proven. Soon, there will be no more supplies to be pillaged, no more electricity, no gasoline, no ammunition, no nothing. We will be back to the days of cooking over an open fire and struggling to keep drinking water available.
We have to find people who want to restart the world. People who care about surviving and helping each other.
Are there any people left out there who want to rebuild?
I think so. Let’s just hope we find them before we become extinct.
Epilogue
Doc has spent the better part of two weeks in his lab. He is striving to find a vaccine that will stop the zombie epidemic. Since toxoplasmosis closely resembles zombiism, he’s hoping to create a vaccine from his toxo studies and testing.
At one time, toxoplasmosis was only considered problematic when infecting pregnant women and people with compromised immune systems. In healthy individuals, the immune system fights off the initial infection, and the parasite lays dormant and seemingly benign. We now know that later research suggested that that latent infections could still affect how the brain functions.
Since it has been over one year since the initial flu vaccine was administered, Doc says the vaccine should be weakened or gone from the people who received it since it is recommended to get a flu vaccine every six months to one year. He has plans of treating toxo infected people to reduce the risk of latent infections. He’s also been working on a vaccine to administer to the primary hosts of the toxoplasmosis parasite: cats. The cat family and their relatives are the only known definitive host for the toxoplasma gondii parasite. We don’t see many animals anymore. I would guess they are zombie food just like we are, but there are some feral cats here and there. Of all the animals in the Animal Kingdom, who would have thought that the feline would be the harbinger of doom?
Some say cats guard the gates of hell. I always thought Cerebus guarded the gates. Maybe they share the duty. In southern parts of the United States, some believe the Devil sought retribution on anyone who would drown a cat and dispensed rheumatism for the lesser crime of kicking a cat.
Before you protest, I do like cats. I’m an animal lover and think those who mistreat any animal should be made to answer for their actions and receive harsh punishment. I would care for a cat and not mistreat one. But I’m not really a fan of cats. They are moody and temperamental.
I’m just saying that maybe this outbreak was a punishment for the way we have treated each other and our world since the beginning of time and the cat is an easy scape goat.
Coincidental?
Maybe.
But unless we find a way to rebuild, free from disease, the human race will cease to exist.
I just don’t think I’m ready to go out without a fight.
Tracie and Bobby Conversation
“What’s up?”
I look up from reading and see Bobby holding out a glass of iced tea for me.
“Nothing. Just reading some horror books I found while snooping in Burrell’s basement.” I say.
“I don’t see how you can read that stuff.” Bobby tells me.
I look at him like he just told me I have three eyes.
“You remember how you used to love buying clothes?” I ask him.
“Point taken.” He replies.
“You know I love horror stories and movies. Momma used to tell me ghost stories. Well, she claimed they were real stories, but I have no way of proving those as true.” I say.
“One she told me when I was about ten scared the shit out of me. She said that the strip of highway by the old radio station in Pontotoc was haunted.” I say.
“Uh huh.” Bobby says.
“Really. No joke. She said that there was a man that was murdered in that bottom during the years that horses were the primary transportation, and when people would ride a horse through, the ghost would catch a ride with them. She said the rider could feel the weight of someone, or something, jump on the horse with them and ride about twenty-five yards, then jump off.” I tell Bobby.
“I guess you had to get her to take you there to see?” Bobby asks me.
“Hell no. I’m not stupid enough to mess around with spirits.” I say.
“You like werewolves and vampires, so why not ghosts and spirits?” Bobby asks.
“I don’t believe in vampires and werewolves. I believe in ghosts and spirits, however.” I say.
“Maybe we can go to Pennsylvania one day and do some vampire hunting.” Bobby says.
I look at him like he has three eyes now.
“What?” He asks me.
“Pennsylvania?” I ask.
“Isn’t that where vampires came from?” He asks.
“I think you mean Transylvania.” I say.
“Whatever. I could care less. You know I don’t like horror stories and we are living one now.” Bobby says.
“There could be some vamps in Pennsylvania. There used to be plenty in Washington. We never dreamed of having a zombie infestation, and look what we got.” I tell him with a snort.
“Maybe we should plant some wolfsbane and make some wooden stakes.” I tell Bobby.
“Why would we do that? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Bobby says.
“I wish I still had my DVD of “The Exorcist”. I’d make you watch it.” I tell him.
“I’d rather play with the zombies and risk a bite than sit and watch that horror.” Bobby says.
“Be careful what you wish for mister.” I tell him.
About the Author
Ann Riley is a writer who currently makes her home in Tupelo, Ms. with her husband Bobby and their dachshund Riley. She has a full-time job and writes when not working.
She is an avid reader of dark fantasy, horror, dystopian, and post-apocalyptic books. She is a lover of all animals and would like to see the world come together in her lifetime.
She looks at the lighter side of life by not worrying about things.
Nothing changes by worrying about it. You will still have the same problem. She tries not to let the everyday stress of life rule her. What will be, will be.
“We are given a life to lead as we choose and make choices as we choose. What you do with what you are given is your choice. I try and look at every obstacle as an opportunity to do better or improve myself.”
She started her Southern Zomb
ies series in November 2015 and later added the Fynn Young series to her writings.
All the names used in her Southern Zombies series are actual names of her family members.
You can find all of her books on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01759KWV0.
Please let me know what you think.
You can email me at [email protected].
You can also comment on my Facebook page Ann Riley at www.facebook.com/southernzombiesseries and
Twitter @southernzombies.
Please don’t forget to leave a review at Amazon and checkout the Fynn Young Shifter Series if you like mystery, suspense, romance and supernatural stories.
The End
