C.D. Breadner's Blog, page 3

Let’s Write Something With Zombies – What Happened in Boulder

Oakley heard the footsteps on the crumbling concrete behind her, and she knew from the even stride it wasn’t a creeper. When he plopped down to the ground Hunter mirrored her position; drawing his knees up to rest his elbows on them. She was under the awning of the gas station, on sentry detail. Hunter was supposed to be sleeping, and she reminded him of that.

He gave an amused laugh. “Yeah. I’ll sleep while my woman’s out here looking out for my ass. That would be something.”

She inhaled, turning to look at him. “What happened in Boulder?”

As an ominous cue the sky overhead erupted in light and booming thunder, the rain falling around the awning and hitting the over-grown grass softly. She wrote it off to a coincidence as he chewed at whatever stick or twig he’d decided to gnaw on. She didn’t know if his reluctance came from not wanting to scare her, or because Boulder held some horrific memories he didn’t want to deal with. But dammit, she wanted to know.

“We found a locked up warehouse, it had never been breached. It was amazing; pallets of bottled water, canned food, all of it non-perishable. We had the truck, we were heading back to Greenwater, it was like fate. Kismet. Even with our guys and everyone at Greenwater it would have lasted years as long as it was handled carefully.” He looked away, pulling the stick out of his mouth. “It was so secure because people had holed up in there, and they died. So by the time we got there, they were turned. Looks like there might have been an internal power struggle that went bad. They had guns, the place was split in half like the fall out made them go their separate ways. An uneasy truce or some shit.” He shook his head. “There were women, a couple of kids. Those creepers had been bitten. All the men had gunshot wounds. Stupid shit that got them all killed; they would have been fine for a good long while.”

Oakley shivered, suddenly finding the mist drifting in from the falling rain very chilling. “People who are stronger will take what other people have,” she reminded him softly.

“Like Hawk,” he finished for her.

“Like Hawk.”

When he turned those striking eyes on hers again they were full of regret. “I’m so sorry, Oakley. I am so damn sorry.”

“I know,” she assured him. “It’s not your fault. Memee preferred to keep her flock docile. The ones with me are the ones who knew better. They still tried to keep their skills sharp and stay tough.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “What else happened in Boulder?”

“The creepers set an ambush for us,” he said, squeezing her hand back. “Locked a group in a room with them where the door locked internally with a dead blot. Key broken off in the other side.” His voice was back to hollow and sounding like he was reciting an old lesson from a school book. “Couldn’t get in. Hinges were even on the inside of that room. It was literally a death trap.” He swallowed hard enough for her to hear. “I can still hear them screaming as they tore them up. We had more on the outside to deal with, but that was a small room. You know how hard it is to maneuver in an enclosed space. And the more people moving around the worse it is. We lost seven guys there.”

“The creepers are getting smart?” She wanted to confirm that he was having the same thought she was.

“I think so.”

“A supply run that Sawyer was on had the same thing happen in a storeroom. Shut themselves in with a couple of her crew. They both died. Tanya and California,” she added softly, feeling like she had to speak their names.

“And that one that grabbed you just yesterday, babe. Hiding behind a tree, remember?”

She nodded. “Right. So … what do we call this?”

Another crash of thunder made them both jump, laughing at their own nervousness. “I think it’s evolution, babe,” Hunter said quietly, eyes easing up to the edge of the awning.

“You should be sleeping,” she pointed out.

“I’ll sleep when you do. Rather be right here.” He took her hand again, and she let him hold it, comfortable and warm. “Are you okay?”

Another crash of thunder, so intense she felt it hit the wall of her chest and shake her teeth in her jaw. “I’m scared. Worried. And in mourning for everyone left behind.”

“I’ll go back and kill Hawk,” he vowed with such vehemence she didn’t recognize his voice.

“Don’t do that,” she insisted. “We’ll find another spot. Start new somewhere else. Maybe in the country. Easier to see what’s coming when you’re surrounded by flat pastures.”

Hawk eyed her for a moment. “I appreciate your optimism, but he’s taken half my men with him. Killed people, would have killed you and probably done worse before that. I can’t abide that.”

“You can and you will,” she replied. “Because I want you around more than I want that asshole not breathing anymore. We have people to take care of here, too. We’re a team, and the smaller the team gets the weaker it is.”

“I hate that people are worse than creepers,” Hunter said suddenly, very softly. “Creepers are supposed to be the bad guys. Not people.”

“I know.”

There was another intense crash of thunder, making them both look up into the dying flares of lightning that went with it. “That’s a hell of a lighting storm,” he muttered.

She slid closer to his side and he immediately put his arm around her, taking away some of the chill. “We’ll find another spot tomorrow,” she said, trying to be positive and take his mind off of bloody retribution. “I like the women we got out of Greenwater. Well, Rainbow’s a weirdo but smart enough to stay on the winning side. She was a little smug in her position as Memee’s assistant. I can already tell she’s had a personality transplant.”

“Good,” he said against the top of her head, planting a kiss there. “These guys are good guys. Wouldn’t have lit out on Hawk otherwise. It’s a rare man that prefers to not take everything he wants by force these days. The weak went into Greenwater. You’ve got the strongest of my crew right here with your girls, babe.”

She wrapped both arms around his middle, giving a sideways hug. “Good. Now let’s enjoy the light show.”

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – Braindead

Broken glass crunched under foot. Kinda made it hard to “sneak,” but Hunter, Oakley and Tap tried their best.

The store shelves were picked clean, of course. Nothing remained but the smell of spoiled milk. It was faint because the turned dairy products had been dumped a long time ago but that smell lasted longer than a fresh shipment of milk from the farm did.

Hunter pointed to a door off to the right, and she knew that had been the office. It was shut, but there were sounds coming from inside; scratching, moaning and thumping.

Creepers, knowing food was in the store with them.

Oakley and Tap nodded. Tap carried a baseball bat that had spikes affixed to the ends. It was terrifying, and if she didn’t know Tap was a big, goofy teddy bear she’d likely turn and run.

Hunter approached the door and turned the knob. It didn’t give. There was a key hole on this side, so it didn’t necessarily mean anyone locked themselves inside that room to die. Someone definitely could have locked them in there.

They backed up and Hunter kicked the door in. It bounced off someone on the opposite side. Oakley was glad for the head-mounted flashlight. She needed both hands as the first creeper rushed through the doorway and met her machete across the gut. He fell in two pieces, mouth still snapping mindlessly for meat.

She’d take care of the brain later. Tap took out two with one swing, heads giving way under that bat. Hunter made use of his hunting knife in a few skulls, randomly selecting one to pin firmly to the hilt and shove his way into the room, using the limp creeper as a shield.

“Hunter!” she snapped. “You idiot,” that was muttered lower as she separated another creeper’s head from her body.

“Go after him,” Tap shouted, his bat making another bloody plume of brain. “I got these ones. We don’t know what’s in there.”

Oakley nodded and bisected one more softening skull before rushing the dark room. Her flashlight showed her a desk, two chairs, a stand with a coffee maker long ignored, and Hunter heaving, staring down at whatever creeper he’d just rendered useless on the floor behind the desk. Then he turned his attention to Oakley.

She had to grin. She knew that look. He always got that look when he was cranked up on adrenalin and had just survived something dangerous.

She really liked that look.

He started stalking around the desk at her, and she lowered the machete. “Hunter,” she warned, hand out to stop him advancing. “We’re not alone, remember?”

Before he got to her, before he could grab her and deliver that kiss she could already taste, the storeroom door left of the desk popped open. Oakley jumped, and luckily Hunter was quicker to react. He had his knife at the ready, and Oakley was backing up to make room because this office was small. It would only take one or two creepers to overtake you in a space this size, and the more people in the room the more dangerous it was. They had to draw these things out to the store where they had space to swing and evade.

Oakley was turning to the door, seeing Tap finish off the creeper she’d dropped but left biting. Before she could call for help another creeper sprang up.

The machete came up, but something bizarre happened. Oakley would swear on her machete, her Harley, and a stack of bibles that the creeper actually smiled at her.

Then it’s rotting hand reached out, grabbed the door knob, and yanked it shut.

Oakley grabbed the knob, her brain trying to process how doorknobs worked. It held fast, Hunter hadn’t damaged the jamb or the lock when he kicked it in. How the hell was it locked, though? Unless it always locked once it shut, and the only way to unlock it was from the outside with a key once it was closed.

But that was stupid. She was staring at a button that was depressed to lock and popped out when it wasn’t locked. The button was out, the door should open.

Unless the lock was broken from the outside. Shit.

“Oakley!” Hunter shouted, bringing her attention back. She spun as a creeper came close, the machete slicing through the neck, head dropping with a wet thud.

“The lock’s broken!” she shouted, catching the next one in the skull. The blade stuck a bit, but she yanked it free easily because she was frantic.

As bodies fell and fluids flew against the walls, she was counting. That storage room held eight creepers. They had to come at them single file because there wasn’t much room between the doorway and the desk. One had gone the wrong way, getting confused in the corner behind the desk itself. She thought that one could be dealt with later.

Instead, the lost creeper crawled over the desk at her. Oakley was stunned, again, because this was not creeper behaviour. They meandered upright, mindlessly, and they would spend days wandering back and forth down hallways if the doors were closed but a window was open. They didn’t change positions like this.

But this one did. Oakley sliced her head in two anyway but … something was happening with the creepers, and it made her nervous.

The last one hit the ground, and for the first time in a while Oakley’s hands were shaking. She clenched her fists and shook her arms to get rid of it, but two different creepers had just exhibited some concerning developments.

Like they were getting smarter.

Hunter took one of her hands and squeezed it. “Babe, you okay?”

She looked up at that familiar, handsome face. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“That creeper crawled over the desk at me.”

Hunter inhaled. “Yeah, I saw that.”

“And another one shut the door on us, locking us in here.”

Now Hunter frowned. “What?”

“I was heading out to draw them out of this damn cattle chute and I turned, this creeper yanked the door closed.”

Hunter chewed the inside of his lip. “Did you hit your head?”

She punched his arm. “No. Bite me.”

He grinned, pulling her close with an arm around the small of her back. “Okay,” he muttered, and her heart did quiver just a little bit.

“You guys all right?” Tap shouted from the other side of the door.

Hunter pushed her behind him. “Yeah, you gotta kick the door in. Lock’s broken.”

“Stand back!” Tap yelled unnecessarily, then with a vicious boot the door swung inward. “You two all right? Little alone time while I risk my ass killing all these bastards?”

“One of these bastards shut us in,” Oakley informed him, sheathing the machete. “There were more hiding in the store room. It’s like they set a trap.” She left out the part about the creeper smiling at her. She wasn’t sure she even really saw it.

Tap stared at her for a good long moment, then he brought his hazel eyes up to Hunter’s. “Sounds like Boulder.”

Hunter’s face got serious. “Yeah, it does.”

Oakley frowned and waited to be filled in, but apparently she’d have to ask. “What happened in Boulder?”

No one was answering. Tap headed for the door, and Hunter just looked … preoccupied.

“Hunter,” she called out, shaking his arm. “What happened in Boulder?”

He swallowed, running both hands up her arms to look at her squarely. “I’ll tell you, okay? But not until we get these bodies out of here and everyone inside, safe and sound.”

Oakley searched his face, realizing she’d never seen a haunted look in his eyes before. Slowly, eventually, she nodded. “Okay babe,” she said softly.

He kissed her forehead then nodded to the bodies on the ground. “Grab an end, babe.”

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – Place for the Night

Behind a thicket of overgrown shrubs a gas station hunched, off the freeway that once served as the main transit line for the suburban residents of Greenwater Gates. As a rule Oakley shunned locations close to highways and main thoroughfares, but they needed both distance from Greenwater as well as shelter for the night. Hunter knew this building existed so they made their way towards it.

The snuffling breathing of creepers was always a helpful warning. Immediately Hunter and Tap’s men were pulling the women behind them, putting themselves on the front line. It pissed Oakley off when Hunter did it to her.

“Don’t,” she snapped, pulling out her machete. “I’m plenty capable.”

Hunter’s jaw clenched as she heard Tap snort his amusement.

“There aren’t enough of us to be teams,” she reminded him. “Everyone knows how to kill them. We all do.” She checked over her shoulder, and only Tink and Jess looked like they were terrified. Yet they held their weapons tight with both hands.

Sawyer was the one to speak next. “We killing those things or what?”

Around the gas station the trees had just started to fill in overhead, so there was plenty of light to see by. Oakley guessed they were facing about three dozen creepers. No problem, really. She also had to assume there were more in the gas station, but they could be worried about later.

The men still rushed the herd first, but she noticed they mostly ignored the first creepers they encountered and instead fell upon the second or third bodies in the way. She smiled, gave her own arm roll to encourage her girls to follow, and they too met the stumbling enemy head-on.

The first one to meet her machete blade caught it in the neck which took his head clear off, his stuffing soft by now. The second had his skull bisected on a diagonal, and his tongue was still flapping as his body crumpled moments after the top of his head slid to the ground. Third and fourth a two-for-one decapitation special. That even impressed her.

“Oakley!” The cry was short and she spun expecting to find a sneak attack behind her, but instead she saw Tink, struggling to pull a Bowie knife out of a creeper’s skull as two more were bearing down on her.

“Shit,” Oakley muttered, rushing forward.

On a spinning swing she cut the first one’s body in half, knowing her blade wouldn’t catch there and leave her in the same spot Tink was already in. She could destroy the brain later. The second one she caught in the temple with the machete, and it slid through like a warm knife into butter, clear out the other side with a yellowish spray of sludge.

Oakley revisited to the first one, chopped her skull in two, then braced a foot on the skull of Tink’s kill and yanked the knife free. “This is why I like machetes and swords, or even bats,” Oakley shared. “We’ll find something easier, promise.”

Tink just smiled, then they turned back to find the battle done and won. Ty-Ty was doing clean-up with her Samurai sword, making sure all moving creepers caught it in the brain and stopped writhing.

She caught Hunter looking for her, and he gave a jerk of the head before following the other men around the front of the gas station closest to the freeway.

Oakley swallowed, her breathing not quite returning to normal. She didn’t like being close to roads. There were far too many gangs made up of very bad people who had access to fuel and vehicles, and they had to use the roads. That was why she always stuck to dirt paths and foot trails when she was alone. She didn’t want to trade the hell she’d run from in the first place for a whole new brand of it.

Sawyer was at her side when she rejoined Hunter’s crew, and they were using a crowbar to wrench the door open. The windows and door had both been securely boarded up from the outside but the door could have been locked from the inside. She wondered who would have done that.

On squealing hinges that seemed so exponentially loud it was ridiculous the door eventually lost its battle. Tap shoved it open all the way against the weeds and shrubs that blocked it. The air that met them was stale, musty, closed off. It was almost like opening a time capsule.

“Supplies?” Tap whispered.

Oakley shook her head. “No, we raided this place not long after we set up Greenwater. Not sure who boarded it up, we left it open to save people the trouble of stopping.”

“Who’s first?” Hunter asked, pulling out a bright LED flashlight and flicking it on.

“I’ll go,” Oakley volunteered, hand out.

“I’ll go,” Hunter said after a pause then stepped over the threshold.

She set her jaw to keep a smartass reply in check, then followed him.

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – Joined Forces

Oakley risked a look over at the men’s former leader, but Hunter gave nothing away with his expression. So she looked back to Tap, and he noticed her unease.

“Oakley, since Hunter seems to have lost the power of speech, maybe you could share the meaning of this?”

Oakley took a deep breath. “I can’t let them all get hurt. I had to try and help them.”

Tap’s lower jaw slid to the side, then his appraisal ran from her to the women behind her and Hunter. “That’s a lot of women for just you, Hunter.”

Hunter growled out, “It’s the right thing to do, and you know it, Tap.”

“I agree that Hawk’s a brutal asshole,” Tap said on a grin, dropping the charade and tucking the Glock in his waistband. “Truthfully, we told him we were right behind him. And we were, but … well,” he let it trail off and the men behind him motioned to the trees next to them. With relief Oakley noticed that even more of her friends and the residents of Greenwater Gates were with Tap and his men. A few of them came forward, hugging Sawyer and Ty-Ty and Jess as they all reunited.

“How bad is it in there?” Oakley bit out, enough bitterness in her tone to make all the women look away.

Tap’s look softened to something a lot like pity. “It’s bad, Oakley. Anyone that lives will probably wish they didn’t.”

That hung over all of them, then Hunter took her arm. “We need to get the hell out of here. The more space between here and us the better.”

“You’re right,” she said, taking his hand and looking back at Tap. “Thank you for helping whoever you could.”

“No problem, Oakley. Now let’s find a place to wait out the night.”

She nodded and fell into step next to Hunter. Their rag-tag group headed back into the trees, out of sight, and far too soon they were out of range of the screaming.

Only three creepers found themselves in the path of their crew, and they were easily taken out. Oakley tried to ignore the sniffs and whimpers of the rest of their party. It was selfish but Oakley was glad she hadn’t been there for the start of the attack.

“We’ll find somewhere safe,” Hunter assured her with a squeeze of her hand. “I promise, babe.”

Now for the survivors to get some rest. Yeah, right.

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – The Great Escape

Oakley’s eyes were on the fence, leaning backwards into Hunter’s hand, which rested on her shoulder blade in a comforting way. Any minute now her friends should be heading their way. Twilight was falling, she could hear singing. The party was in full swing.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Hunter told her softly.

“I know,” she replied shortly. “They’re coming.”

He sighed, moving away from her and leaning against the trunk of an elm. She crossed her arms and resumed pacing in a circle, exactly how she’d been passing time for the past fifteen minutes.

Come on Tink and Jess, she was thinking angrily. Get your asses out here.

“They’re coming,” Hunter assured her in that patronizing tone. “Don’t worry, the attack hasn’t started.”

Before he could finish speaking she heard it; a short burst of gunfire, a sickening pause and then screaming, shouting, pandemonium, and more gunfire.

“Hunter,” she said desperately, turning to him, one arm out, who knew what for. He came forward and took her hand, eyes searching the vine-covered fence for a spot to see what was going on. It was pointless, they were too low down to see over the houses.

“I gotta get higher up,” he said, almost absently.

“Then go,” she said, pushing his elbow.

“I don’t want to leave you. That noise is going to bring the creepers out.”

She made a huffing sound of annoyance, and before he answered she heard a whispered call. “Oakley?”

“Tink!” she all but shouted, rushing to the opening and yanking the fence open. Her favourite inventor and crazy genius nearly fell through the opening, looking shocked and upset and relieved all at the same time. Jess was right on her heels, along with Ty-Ty, Maine, even Sawyer and Rainbow. She was happy to see Matilda as well.

“Thank God you guys,” she whispered, pulling Tink and Jess into a double hug, then repeated that with Ty-Ty and Maine.

“Anyone else coming?” Hunter demanded, back into his leadership tone.

Tink shook her head. “No one else believed me,” she said, almost like an apology.

“I didn’t believe it until the screaming started behind us,” Rainbow added, hefting the strap of her back pack higher.

“Everyone armed?” Oakley asked next.

“Baseball bat,” Jess said immediately.

“Tire iron,” Rainbow chimed in.

“Samurai sword,” Ty-Ty answered proudly.

“Pipe wrench,” Maine said sadly. “I brought my vibrator too, but …”

Oakley heard Hunter snort in laughter behind her as she answered. “I don’t know if that’s solid enough to do damage. Good call on the pipe though.”

“Shot gun, Glock, ammo for both, machete, and Bowie knife.” This was from Sawyer, no surprise there. Her chin was up, challenging anyone to tell her she was unprepared.

“No fucking guns until we’re further away from this shit,” Hunter instructed.

“I’m not stupid,” Sawyer snapped back.

She wasn’t, either. She was the best tactical mind and team leader Greenwater had. Oakley and Sawyer might not get along or even like each other the slightest bit, but they had a respect for each other that was mutual and uneasy.

The silliness of the situation faded with a very long burst of gunfire and awful screaming, the likes of which Oakley hadn’t heard in a while.

“We should go,” Hunter said on a growl, taking her arm. “That’s getting close.”

Oakley immediately fixed the fence back into place, hiding their exit point in the vines. Hopefully. Her stomach was turning even while her panic was hurrying her to get the few friends she had left now away from this madness.

Jess was staring at the fence, her lower lip trembling. “Oakley, are they going to kill them all?”

Oakley didn’t have an answer. The best answer was Only the lucky ones, but she didn’t say it. She took Jess’s arm and used her to lead the rest behind Hunter deeper into the trees. Once they were deeper into the shadows she allowed herself to breathe. Then Jess started talking again.

“Now what? Where do we go? Is there a plan, Oakley?”

Oakley remembered that Jess probably didn’t remember much about life outside of Greenwater; some of it by choice, some of it because she’d been so young.

“We keep off the roads, sleep in trees, and watch each other’s backs,” she told her honestly.

“And you stop right where you are,” a different voice commanded.

They all whirled, and Oakley’s heart sunk somewhere around her ankles. It was Tap and six more of Hunter’s former men. They stood still, weapons in hand, and before Oakley could reach for her machete Tap made a tsking noise, raising a hand to her that held a gun. Looked like a Glock to her.

Oakley froze where she was, swallowing hard.

“Tap -”

“Shut it,” Tap cut Hunter off sharply, releasing the safety with the Glock still pointed at her. “What the hell’s going on here, Hunter?”

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – Sleeping With An Enemy?

Apologies here for some coarse and blunt language.

Hunter stood at the basin, scrubbing at his face with fresh water and both hands. Oakley lay on her side in his bed, watching the muscles of his back as he moved through the golden sunset glow coming through the windows.

When they’d returned to the cabin after she delivered her warning her mind was swamped with concern for Greenwater, and her anxiety had her stomach in knots. Her impotence to fix it made her angry. It was a nasty mix that had her feeling nauseous.

They’d sat quietly for a half hour, Hunter sensing her mood, knowing better than to try to talk her into feeling better. After thirty minutes of that she’d had enough. She’d crossed the plank floor and locked the door, lowered the slat blinds, then basically attacked him.

He hadn’t minded.

That was two hours ago. Now she was watching him clean himself up as though he was attending the birthday party with the men.

“I’ll fall back to get you,” he was saying. “Then we’ll wait at the fence. But only for half an hour, right? Then we’re off. You did your best to get word in, babe. You should rest well for that.”

She was playing with the corner of the rough wool blanket he had. “Yeah,” was her quiet answer. “I guess.” She didn’t look up until he sat next to her, hand curving around her side at her hip. He gave her a squeeze.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. This is … this is going to be bad. And bloody.”

Oakley returned her attention to the stitching on the blanket again. “I know. As long as they take a few with them when they go.”

He leaned over to kiss her temple. “Babe, you’re scaring me.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m in love with you Oakley,” he said softly, bringing her eyes up to him in surprise.

“What?”

He took her hand in his. “We started out having fun. I wanted to fuck you at first, I admit it. I liked your hair and ass and tits and those legs. Then I liked your eyes. Your smile and your laugh – you got a great laugh, babe. And every time I get to be with you I’m … I’m counting my lucky stars. And the more you tell me about you and where you’ve been, the closer I get and realize I’ll probably never get through all your layers.”

A huge lump was in her throat as she struggled to find an appropriate response to that, but thankfully, or perhaps not, he kept talking.

“I can be an asshole. I behave like a Neanderthal. I tell these guys you’re my woman, my property in their eyes. But the way I see it, you’re the centre of my world, babe. Creeper, man or beast; I’m killing anything that threatens you.”

She rose up on one elbow, sliding her hand around to the back of his neck. His eyes were on her face, desperate for a reaction. “Hunter,” she whispered, shaking her head and feeling the emotion in her tone. She wasn’t used to it, it scared her.

Did she love him? Hard to say. She didn’t let him haunt her mind all that time he was gone. Alone she worried that he might not be okay. But when he was around, sweet like this, it made her … happy, she supposed. Being held by him was safe, comforting and pleasant. And she more than enjoyed his body, how he used it and the way he showed his appreciation for her. She liked all of it, but she didn’t feel she needed him or his protection.

She just wanted it, and maybe that was the point.

“I love you too, Hunter,” she admitted, heart swelling when he grinned back, grasping her face with both hands and kissing her, pushing her back to his bed with his upper body. She let him get playful for a few minutes before reminding him what was important. “Hey, they’ll come looking for you.”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, face between her breasts, making her gasp. “They’ll understand when I tell them what I got up to.”

She yanked his head up by his hair, making him focus. “Don’t forget honey; Greenwater.”

His smile faltered and he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed softly, with her. “Greenwater.”

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Meet the Soul Stealer …

The dark-skinned tribes of small jungle islands used to give gold and chocolate. In return he’d take their killers and rapists in their sleep. It was punishment for evil-doers, and they kept paying him for it until he would become tired of the climate and move on. In the North they didn’t do sacrifices. So instead he was the Arctic boogeyman; a tale to caution people on how dangerous it was to wander away alone in the coldest of the cold and dark months. He couldn’t be picky on what he ate there: he took anything he found for months then headed for the equator to thaw his hungering body.

But lately every time he tried to solidify, starting with a few souls taken here and there, growing his power slowly but surely, he lost the will to keep going. He would scatter again to the winds of time, blown away to linger and wait for the urge to hit him again. Months and months of existing off of souls was no way to thrive. It was a difficult hill to crest; he needed blood. He wanted the meat.

Maybe this time. If he held the memory of that food as a goal for going through with all the work of becoming fixed in the world, maybe he could see it through this time.

That first soul had been lovely. So pure, sweet. Completely untainted. How delicious the young ones were … their flesh was even better.

Yes, the souls were necessary; they were the vegetables that kept him healthy and going. But next to that he had to have the living, breathing, bleeding and still wriggling meat to make it all worthwhile. He only lived once every few millennia … he had to make it worth the effort.

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Let’s Write Something With Zombies – A Message Delivered

She untwisted the ties holding the fence shut, peeling away the tendrils of vine, holding her breath the entire time. Part of Oakley was worried the house was empty, another part of her was worried a team had been sent to tear apart her trailer and take her stuff.

The yard behind the huge hulking monstrosity of early twenty-first century stucco suburban dream home was empty, as she’d left it. First, she headed to her work bench and grabbed her sheath and machete, fastening it to her back and feeling much better for it. Then she headed into her trailer.

There were only so many things she needed to have on her at all times. The machete was one. The other two were hanging from a silver chain slung over the wall scone inside the door. Her parent’s wedding rings.

She hung them around her neck again, tucking them down the front of her shirt. Then she grabbed the girl necessities and tucked them into her backpack.

Exiting the trailer, she crossed the yard to the back porch of the house, crept up the wooden stairs and peered around the corner of the patio doors. Someone passed the doorway into the dining room, and she’d bet all the rum in the trailer it was Jess.

The door was open, and she allowed a moment to curse Hunter and his band of bastards. Greenwater had no bloody idea what was coming.

Oakley left the patio door open and crossed the kitchen, ears straining to see who else might be in the house. She heard nothing.

Jess was heading up the stairs, and when Oakley gave a low whistle the girl squealed and spun, nearly toppling down a half a flight of carpeted stairwell. She caught herself and Oakley held a finger to her lips, indicating silence. Jess’s eyes were huge as she nodded, then made her way down the carpeted steps.

“Oakley? What are you doing here?”

“I need a favour,” she whispered, taking Jess by the arms. “You need to get Tink and tell her that the men are attacking Greenwater tonight. She has to warn Memee, tell her to arm the supply run teams and hide everyone else. They want to take over Greenwater, which means they’ll take it by force.”

Jess was still blinking, trying to absorb all this.

“People will get hurt. And die. And it’s us they want too, not just the houses and water supply and fences. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jess opened and closed her mouth a couple times, then nodded. “Oh no,” she whispered, and Oakley felt sick to her stomach.

Jess was young, innocent. Pure. She’d never been with a man, Oakley knew that very well. She didn’t want Jess initiated the same way she had been.

“Get all the girls hidden once you tell Tink, everyone that’s around your age, okay? I need you hidden. Okay?”

“Can we run?”

Oakley shook her head. “There’s creepers out here, honey. Unless you know what you’re doing, it’s dangerous out here, too.”

Jess shook her head. “We can’t win this.”

“You can if you’re smarter than them. Tell Tink to find Sawyer, okay?” As much as she hated to admit it, Sawyer was the only one remotely capable of staging some kind of defense.

“What about you?”

Oakley kissed her forehead. “I gotta leave, I can’t be here, you know that. I’m with Hunter, we’re both going to run. If you,” she paused since she hadn’t discussed this with Hunter yet. “If you get through the fence behind my trailer as the attack is going on, we’ll all run together, okay? But bring something to kill creepers. Baseball bats, tire irons, and there’s an assortment of knives in the trailer. Those are handy too, when you need to kill one of the living. Jess, you following this?”

Jess nodded jerkily. “Heavy things to crush skulls and knives. Got it.”

“Good. Now tell Tink first and tell her to tell Memee. You find Sawyer, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Oakley nodded, satisfied, and turned back for the patio doors.

“Oakley?”

She turned back. “Yeah?”

Jess grinned. “Are you, like, with Hunter?”

The last thing she needed right then was a reminder of just how young Jess was. “Yeah,” she had no lies to substitute. “I guess I am.”

Jess sighed. “You’re so lucky.”

Oakley shook her head. “Focus Jess, or everyone here is going to die.”

Jess nodded then scurried through the sunken living room to the front door.

Oakley exited the way she came, stealing across the unruly lawn and back out the break in the fence, closing it up, and running back for the treeline.

Hunter was waiting, but he was busy. Two creepers were at his feet, unmoving, and a third and fourth had gotten too close for the bow, so he’d pulled his bowie knife and was trying to give a good and deep brain poke.

She pulled her machete, spinning it through both hands to get acclimated again, then gripped the handle with both hands and bisected the head of one creeper just as Hunter sunk his knife into the temple of the second one right up to the hilt. Both dropped, and Oakley was wiping brain off her machete against a tree while Hunter braced one foot on his creeper’s head and yanked his knife free with both hands.

“Are you okay?” she was asking as she turned.

She was wrapped up with Hunter immediately, his chest to hers, his arms tight around her back, his lips coming down on hers with force and passion. She was startled by it, and momentarily distracted by the feel and smell of him.

Then she pushed him back.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

He moved his eyebrows to the left, and she frowned.

“What?”

He sighed, exasperated, knocked the machete from her hands and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her right off her feet and slamming her back to the trunk of a birch tree, kissing her again and urging her knees up to his waist.

“What are you doing?” she was gasping, admitting she liked the kissing.

“They’re coming,” he grunted back, hands cupping her bottom as he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Oakley’s head spun momentarily, then she heard a voice.

“Patrol my ass,” a voice drawled sarcastically. Hunter raised his head, turning to the voice just as the one called Hawk led a handful of men out into the open.

Oakley felt her entire body grow tight. Hunter’s hands dug into her hips, which didn’t make her feel better.

“Why not just stay in your cabin, Hunter?”

Hunter chuckled, helping her back down to her feet. “Yeah right. With all of you listening at the door?”

Hawk’s smile was outright creepy. And predatory. “Hardly seems fair. You’re the only one with such a pretty, soft and sweet distraction.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m lucky she picked me I guess.”

The meaning was clear. Hawk read it. Then he looked at the dead creepers and raised an eyebrow. “Little delight to take the edge of a fight. I can understand that.”

Hunter shrugged. “Told you. We’re on patrol.”

The other men chuckled, and Oakley held onto a feint hope that they were not as hell bent on taking over Hunter’s crew as Hawk was.

“All right then,” Hawk allowed, backing away a few steps. “As you were. But I can’t guarantee no one’s watching.” His eyes flicked to Oakley, and she shivered at what was in that look.

If she’d been in Greenwater during the attack, he’d come looking for her first. She just knew it.

When they were alone, or, more alone, Hunter picked up the machete and handed it to her.

“I found Jess,” she whispered. “Jess will tell Tink and Sawyer. But we have to come back here during the attack.”

His head came up quickly. “What?”

“We have to be here during the attack. She’s going to get the younger ones out with us.”

He grabbed her arm. “No, we’re leaving right now. We can’t wait around.”

“I never once said we’d wait here. We go back to camp, wait for the attack, then come here and get the girls.”

Hunter sighed, hands on his hips, head hanging down. “Oakley -”

“You don’t get this. You’re not a girl. But they haven’t … been around men. I know not all men are like Hawk, but they don’t. And I don’t want their first experience with men to be like mine.”

Hunter’s eyes met hers, still angry, but they softened immediately. He sighed, scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, surprising her.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, backing her up again but hugging her to his chest this time. “You’re right. You’re so damn tough, I forget how you were hurt sometimes.”

“You just have to fear being hurt and dying,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling and warmth of him wrapped around her. “We have a fear of being hurt another way.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Okay. We come back here as the party is beginning. But we’re not going in to get anyone, we can only help those who want to be helped.”

“Okay,” she agreed, admitting it was a decent compromise.

“But if I think you’re in danger, I’m calling the whole thing off and getting you the hell out of here. There is no debate on that.”

She closed her eyes, hands fisting his shirt. “So bossy,” she accused, relieved when he chuckled.

“So stubborn,” he threw back at her, and she had to admit he was right.

An Open Letter to David Gilmour

An Open Letter to David Gilmour.

via An Open Letter to David Gilmour.

Let’s Write Something With Zombies – Greenwater Under Fire

Oakley was on her eighteen-hundredth circuit around the cabin when the door finally opened and Hunter returned, shrugging out of his vest and tossing it on the bed without looking at her.

“What are they doing?” she whispered, dread knotting her stomach.

He did look at her then, not really answering her directly. “They’re not happy with you here, but they’ll put up with you as long as I can keep you in line.”

She felt her back stiffen. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you have to keep your head up and your mouth shut, Oakley. I’m sorry, I know that’s not the kind of thing we’ve got going on but it’s the only way I keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”

He turned away, heading for a heavy pack that was set on the ground. He flipped the top open, pulling out a hand gun. It looked like a Beretta, but she wasn’t too familiar with guns. They were loud, drew attention from creepers and the living that made it hard to keep to yourself. Plus, they needed ammunition to be worth anything.

Hunter slapped a clip in her other hand. “Keep this on you at all times. Okay?”

Now she was really scared. “What’s going on? Are they … are they going to attack Greenwater?”

Hunter swallowed, then pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Oakley. I couldn’t talk them out of it.”

She shoved him away. “They can’t, Hunter. You have to stop this!”

He shook his head. “I can’t. I was the only ‘no’ vote. I’m more concerned right now with saving my own ass, and yours.”

“I can’t let them hurt those women.”

Hunter took a deep breath. “I don’t think they’ll kill them.”

“No, they’ll just do worse.” Her voice was steely, but nowhere near as angry-sounding as she would have liked. “You son of a bitch.”

“How can I stop them all on my own? Oakley, I’m trying to find us a way out of this.”

She shook her head. “They’re my friends, Hunter.” She started for the door. “I have to warn them.”

He grabbed her arm, swinging her around. “Oakley, you can’t. They’ll kill you. I can’t … I can’t lose you.”

That was nice. Lovely. And if it was still 2013 she’d be happy to shuffle off down an aisle with him somewhere, but none it meant shit right now.

“I have to at least warn someone,” she hissed. “Give them a fighting chance, Hunter.”

His jaw was clenched as he studied her, gauging her resolve. He must have been pretty close to accurate, because he nodded. “Okay. Here’s what we do. I take you on a patrol with me, we sneak into Greenwater by way of your little break in the fence. Get word to someone, then we’re outta there, Oakley. You and me, okay? We’ll make a run for it. You’ll have done your part to save them, I don’t need to kill any of my guys, and … we’re together.”

She bit back the I don’t need you that was on her tongue. If he could help her get warning into Greenwater she’d take the help happily. After that, she’d figure it out as she went.

“Okay,” she mumbled, tucking the pistol in the back of her waistband. It was a small one, thankfully. A BU9 Nano. “We can’t wait, though. We go now.”

He nodded, pulling out a bigger handgun of a make she didn’t know at all, shoving it in the holster at his hip and grabbing his bow. “Okay. Right now. Pack light, we don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

Oakley nodded, not that she had been allowed to take anything with her from Greenwater. She lamented the memory of her machete and Harley. Damn Memee and her hatred of anything male.

He shoved some wrapped packages into a smaller backpack, telling her it was jerky they’d made from their first bison kill, then handed the pack to her and filled another one for himself. Then they headed out of the cabin.

“Tap!” Hunter shouted one of his lieutenants over. The man jogged over with a nervous look, nodding to Oakley.

“What’s up?”

“We’re uh, going on patrol,” Hunter said in a tone she’d never heard him use before, slinging an arm low around her waist and pulling her to his side. “Alone time,” he said low with a chuckle.

Oakley’s skin crawled, but she was going to have to play along. She tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to look embarrassed.

Tap gave a knowing laugh, too. “Gotcha,” he replied. “Loud and clear. Be careful out there.” He gave Oakley a wink before heading back to the tent he was helping spike in place.

She pulled away from Hunter immediately, heading for the trees so they could circle through that leafy cover to the backside of Greenwater’s development. Hunter fell into stride behind her, asking quietly once they’d separated from the group, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” was her terse reply. “I’m not that great at playing love birds when your friends are planning on attacking my friends. Call me irrational if you want.”

“Babe,” he was calling out, but she stopped short, hearing the heavy, panting breath of a creeper somewhere close.

“Shit,” she breathed, hand itching for her machete. Only Hunter had a weapon that was practical for taking out a creeper.

As predicted, Hunter pulled her behind him, arrow in place and serving line drawn. She held her breath to cut down on sound, giving him the chance to hear where the creeper would be coming from.

Oakley hated having to depend on him.

Footsteps shuffling through dry leaves, 9 o’clock. Oakley back off as Hunter swung the bow around. She had to admit it was beautiful to see how smoothly he could move, the bow swinging into position, aim taken, arrow released.

It caught the creeper in one milky-glazed eye, dropping him before he even knew he was in danger. Another was behind him, but the arrow rest was already loaded and sight taken again. This one caught the second creeper in the centre of his forehead.

Oakley watched while Hunter retrieved his arrows, wiping them on the ground before returning them to his quiver. “Let’s go,” he said, business-like, which was how she preferred him if she was being honest.

When Oakley saw her stretch of vine-covered chain link she wanted to cry. All that time she’d spent resenting Greenwater on some level, and here she was breaking in to warn its residents.

Oakley and Hunter crouched in the tall grass beside the gentle slope that led down to the fencing from the trees. From this vantage point it didn’t appear that anyone was in her little yard, but her heart was hammering that the wrong person would spot her before she could get word.

“I’m going alone,” she insisted. “Stay here. If I get caught, just … go back. I’ll head for the tree house.”

“Oakley,” he snapped, catching her arm and forcing eye contact on her. “I’m sorry about this. I truly am.”

She took in the lines between his brow, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes, and the grim set of his mouth. “I know,” she answered. With a quick kiss on his cheek she set off across the wild grass to the fence, scooting quickly and keeping low.

She prayed that Tink or Jess were at home.

So, you’ve all decided that Greenwater will be taken over by force. But what of the residents?

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