Stephen Drivick's Blog - Posts Tagged "red-eyes"
Zombies
This is my eighteenth and last entry for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge. Today we look at Z-Zombies.
And now we come to Z. I'm going to talk about Zombies.
The story for Sometimes We Ran was bouncing around in my head for a couple of years. At the core, it was a story about a man who decides to leave his survival compound to seek his fortune in a post-apocalyptic world. At first, I had decided to use an old favorite, nuclear war, to end the world. Further research told me I couldn't pull it off. Total nuclear war seemed a little too destructive.
It was during a Walking Dead marathon that I hit on zombies. Zombies would let me end the world as we knew it, and allow the infrastructure to stay intact. My hero could walk for years fighting zombies.:)
I decided on two types identified by the color of their eyes. Yellow-Eye varieties would appear first in my zombie apocalypse. They were the classic zombie: slow-witted walker types that could be trouble in large groups. When fresh, they would be fast. Also, cruel and unusual injuries could be assigned to Yellows, like missing arms, legs, etc.
The Red-Eyes would be different. I made them a little smarter, faster, and more crafty. They worked in small groups sometimes with a leader. I made them ambush predators, hiding in the woods waiting for a meal. Another cool thing was the noises they could make: growling, hissing, or the occasional screech of pain. Red-Eyes are the new top of the food chain in my world.
Both Reds and Yellows follow the zombie rules. Shooting them in the head puts them down. Grievous injury to their body only slows them down. If you are bitten by one, you become part of their crew. They also have a problem with doorknobs and fences. In most of the zombie-themed media I have consumed, the undead can't climb a fence, or turn a doorknob to get at the heroes of the story.:)
That's the zombies of Sometimes We Ran. I decided from the outset that I wasn't going to try an rewrite the genre, but I hope I added to it a little bit.
And as always, zombie fans. Watch out for the Red-Eyes.:)
And now we come to Z. I'm going to talk about Zombies.
The story for Sometimes We Ran was bouncing around in my head for a couple of years. At the core, it was a story about a man who decides to leave his survival compound to seek his fortune in a post-apocalyptic world. At first, I had decided to use an old favorite, nuclear war, to end the world. Further research told me I couldn't pull it off. Total nuclear war seemed a little too destructive.
It was during a Walking Dead marathon that I hit on zombies. Zombies would let me end the world as we knew it, and allow the infrastructure to stay intact. My hero could walk for years fighting zombies.:)
I decided on two types identified by the color of their eyes. Yellow-Eye varieties would appear first in my zombie apocalypse. They were the classic zombie: slow-witted walker types that could be trouble in large groups. When fresh, they would be fast. Also, cruel and unusual injuries could be assigned to Yellows, like missing arms, legs, etc.
The Red-Eyes would be different. I made them a little smarter, faster, and more crafty. They worked in small groups sometimes with a leader. I made them ambush predators, hiding in the woods waiting for a meal. Another cool thing was the noises they could make: growling, hissing, or the occasional screech of pain. Red-Eyes are the new top of the food chain in my world.
Both Reds and Yellows follow the zombie rules. Shooting them in the head puts them down. Grievous injury to their body only slows them down. If you are bitten by one, you become part of their crew. They also have a problem with doorknobs and fences. In most of the zombie-themed media I have consumed, the undead can't climb a fence, or turn a doorknob to get at the heroes of the story.:)
That's the zombies of Sometimes We Ran. I decided from the outset that I wasn't going to try an rewrite the genre, but I hope I added to it a little bit.
And as always, zombie fans. Watch out for the Red-Eyes.:)
From Sometimes We Ran 4: Survival
Warning: This is a passage from a rough draft. Not responsible for misspellings, plot holes, odd phrases, or extra cursing.
I was tiring. My old body was giving up. I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Scaly, smelly arms reached between the bars. They wrapped around Sam's neck, chest, shoulders, and even his clean-shaven chin. He cried out again, starting to panic. All the Red-Eyes remaining outside our home were engaged now. They crowded in seeking a meal of tasty flesh. They poked their evil faces into the bars, twisting the slack mouths of the dead into nightmare grins. The sound of jaws snapping drowned out the cries and screams of the living. I let Sam go, and fired my gun into the crowd. The hollow points I loaded this morning destroyed the skulls of the nearest Red-Eyes, but they just kept coming. The red eyes of the attackers glowed in the shadow of the gate. Sam's arm twisted, and their was a horrible crunching noise. I closed my eyes.
I knew what that sound meant. I had heard it too many times before.
With one final heave, we pulled Sam from the gate. It happened so quickly, we wound up on our backs on the hard asphalt. Sam rolled over onto his knees, then stood up. I got to my feet. There was something I had to do.
It wasn't clear at first if Sam was even hurt. He turned around, and said, “I'm okay....I'm okay.”
I looked at the ground beneath Sam's feet. A few drops of blood hit his shoes, then it became a torrent. Sam raised his left hand. Where his two middle fingers should have been, was now a bite wound almost past his knuckle. It was bleeding like a fountain, but that was the least of his troubles.
Sam began to scream, grabbing his hand in agony. We all froze in terror, knowing what was coming next. Claire tried to go to him, but I stopped her.
Sam walked along the gate, wailing at his destroyed hand. The bleeding was actually slowing down, but that was not a good sign. We followed along waiting for the next step. Maybe he wouldn't turn. Maybe not enough parasites had transferred to his blood to complete the process.
Maybe.
Sam turned towards us, left hand held up. “Look,” he said, tears showing in his eyes. “I'm okay … really, I'm okay. It's not going to happen.”
Something like a cramp racked his body, and he fell to the ground. The screaming was getting worse and louder. Sam grabbed his head, and let out a scream that raised goosebumps. He put his head on the ground, and his breathing started to rasp. Sam was dying.
I walked over, and pointed my gun at the back of Sam's head. He reached out, and touched my foot. “I'm okay,” he said in a raspy tone. He looked up at me. Sam's eyes were almost vibrating, and turning a deep maroon color. His lips and skin were going pale and lifeless,.His breathing was coming in ragged gulps. “I'm okay,” Sam said again, in a voice barely above a whisper.
I pulled the trigger, and Sam fell, face first to the asphalt. His arms outstretched like he was begging for help. Blood and brain matter leaked into the street. I kept the gun trained on the corpse to make sure the job was finished. The defenders of Cannon Field stood around me in silence. Even the dead outside the gate went quiet in witness of my act of mercy.
Sam, or the living corpse of Sam, wasn't quite done yet.
I'll finish it soon, guys. I swear. :)
I was tiring. My old body was giving up. I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Scaly, smelly arms reached between the bars. They wrapped around Sam's neck, chest, shoulders, and even his clean-shaven chin. He cried out again, starting to panic. All the Red-Eyes remaining outside our home were engaged now. They crowded in seeking a meal of tasty flesh. They poked their evil faces into the bars, twisting the slack mouths of the dead into nightmare grins. The sound of jaws snapping drowned out the cries and screams of the living. I let Sam go, and fired my gun into the crowd. The hollow points I loaded this morning destroyed the skulls of the nearest Red-Eyes, but they just kept coming. The red eyes of the attackers glowed in the shadow of the gate. Sam's arm twisted, and their was a horrible crunching noise. I closed my eyes.
I knew what that sound meant. I had heard it too many times before.
With one final heave, we pulled Sam from the gate. It happened so quickly, we wound up on our backs on the hard asphalt. Sam rolled over onto his knees, then stood up. I got to my feet. There was something I had to do.
It wasn't clear at first if Sam was even hurt. He turned around, and said, “I'm okay....I'm okay.”
I looked at the ground beneath Sam's feet. A few drops of blood hit his shoes, then it became a torrent. Sam raised his left hand. Where his two middle fingers should have been, was now a bite wound almost past his knuckle. It was bleeding like a fountain, but that was the least of his troubles.
Sam began to scream, grabbing his hand in agony. We all froze in terror, knowing what was coming next. Claire tried to go to him, but I stopped her.
Sam walked along the gate, wailing at his destroyed hand. The bleeding was actually slowing down, but that was not a good sign. We followed along waiting for the next step. Maybe he wouldn't turn. Maybe not enough parasites had transferred to his blood to complete the process.
Maybe.
Sam turned towards us, left hand held up. “Look,” he said, tears showing in his eyes. “I'm okay … really, I'm okay. It's not going to happen.”
Something like a cramp racked his body, and he fell to the ground. The screaming was getting worse and louder. Sam grabbed his head, and let out a scream that raised goosebumps. He put his head on the ground, and his breathing started to rasp. Sam was dying.
I walked over, and pointed my gun at the back of Sam's head. He reached out, and touched my foot. “I'm okay,” he said in a raspy tone. He looked up at me. Sam's eyes were almost vibrating, and turning a deep maroon color. His lips and skin were going pale and lifeless,.His breathing was coming in ragged gulps. “I'm okay,” Sam said again, in a voice barely above a whisper.
I pulled the trigger, and Sam fell, face first to the asphalt. His arms outstretched like he was begging for help. Blood and brain matter leaked into the street. I kept the gun trained on the corpse to make sure the job was finished. The defenders of Cannon Field stood around me in silence. Even the dead outside the gate went quiet in witness of my act of mercy.
Sam, or the living corpse of Sam, wasn't quite done yet.
I'll finish it soon, guys. I swear. :)
Christmas 2019
Christmas is here and to help you get a headstart on your ebook collection, Sometimes We Ran and Sometimes We Ran 2: Community will be 99 cents through 1/1/20. Fight the Red-Eyes from your favorite Kindle or Kindle app. :)
You also might want to pick up Sometimes We Ran 3: Rescue and Sometimes We Ran 4: Survival (newly released) while your hitting up Amazon for those post-Christmas sales. :)
Merry Christmas and we'll see you in 2020.
You also might want to pick up Sometimes We Ran 3: Rescue and Sometimes We Ran 4: Survival (newly released) while your hitting up Amazon for those post-Christmas sales. :)
Merry Christmas and we'll see you in 2020.
