displayed in the windows, and the store’s door was open slightly.
The two brothers stepped away from the door.
“So,” Corey said in a low voice. “Straight across and in?”
Brian nodded. “That sounds good. We just need to make sure that this door doesn’t lock on us, and that it stays closed.”
“Yeah. Do a quick check of each end of the street after?” Corey asked.
“Yeah, o kay. You ready?”
“I was born ready.”
“Fuck you,” Brian laughed, punching Corey in the arm. “Machetes?”
“Yeah, machetes,” Corey sighed. The twins readied their machetes, and Brian checked the door, making sure that it didn’t lock automatically .
It didn’t, and Corey thanked God for small favors.
Brian opened the door wide, and Corey stepped out into the street, the smell of old iron from the foundry hitting him. Movement caught his eye and he shifted to look at the Legion post, where a trio of the undead stood in the foyer, locked in pounding on the glass of the doors as they saw Corey.
“We’re going to have to make this quick,” Corey said, gesturing towards the post with his machete. Brian glanced over, nodded, and headed for the thrift shop. Corey followed him, and in a moment they were inside the dim interior of the shop, the place stinking of death. Ignoring the smell he shucked his rucksack and split off to the left as Brian went to the right.
Corey started grabbing toys – trucks, cars, soldiers, dolls, anything that looked interesting – he moved quickly, the ruck filling. A sound to his right caused him to turn his head just as a little old nun, obviously dead, came at him with her arms raised, the lower half of her chin missing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned, and swung his machete, crushing the nun’s skull.
A second, older nun came out from a section of women’s jackets, half of her scalp gone as she started moaning, arms rising up.
Corey prepared to swing when Brian slipped up behind her and split her skull.
She collapsed on top of the shorter nun, and Brian shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” Brian said. “I just killed a fucking zombie nun.”
Terrence
“How are we for ammunition?” Terrence asked.
Ernst poured him a cup of coffee. “Not great. Well, I have a lot, but in all actuality, it is a finite supply. We really need to conserve until we can either salvage some more, or learn to make our own.”
“I’m going to side with salvage and conserve,” Terrence chuckled. “You know, Ernst, I’ve been through a lot of things, but I really never thought, especially after Korea, that I could really be surprised.” He shook his head as Ernst handed him the coffee. “This, though,” he sighed, “this has surprised the hell out of me.”
“I understand completely,” Ernst said. “Granted, I was preparing for the end of the world, but I was pretty confident that it was going to be the normal, run of the mill apocalypse, and not the rising of the dead.”
Silence fell over the two of them as they drank their coffee, one of the dogs padding by on quiet feet. “You know,” Terrence said, “we should save the bullets for regular people, and anyone who gets infected. I know that that young sergeant says that people change within a few minutes, but that’s a hell of a long time when you know what you’re going to become.”
Ernst nodded. “I’m thinking that most regular people aren’t going to be afraid of machetes or spears, if we get some made up.”
Terrence grinned. “Probably not, son. Now, that Ham radio on the counter, it works?”
Ernst glanced at the radio, nodding. “It does. Do you know how to use one?”
“Ended up being a radio man in Korea, humping it up and down those valleys,” Terrence said, shaking his head. “Developed a love hate relationship with them, so, yes, I know how to use one of them.”
Ernst drank his coffee and looked at the
The two brothers stepped away from the door.
“So,” Corey said in a low voice. “Straight across and in?”
Brian nodded. “That sounds good. We just need to make sure that this door doesn’t lock on us, and that it stays closed.”
“Yeah. Do a quick check of each end of the street after?” Corey asked.
“Yeah, o kay. You ready?”
“I was born ready.”
“Fuck you,” Brian laughed, punching Corey in the arm. “Machetes?”
“Yeah, machetes,” Corey sighed. The twins readied their machetes, and Brian checked the door, making sure that it didn’t lock automatically .
It didn’t, and Corey thanked God for small favors.
Brian opened the door wide, and Corey stepped out into the street, the smell of old iron from the foundry hitting him. Movement caught his eye and he shifted to look at the Legion post, where a trio of the undead stood in the foyer, locked in pounding on the glass of the doors as they saw Corey.
“We’re going to have to make this quick,” Corey said, gesturing towards the post with his machete. Brian glanced over, nodded, and headed for the thrift shop. Corey followed him, and in a moment they were inside the dim interior of the shop, the place stinking of death. Ignoring the smell he shucked his rucksack and split off to the left as Brian went to the right.
Corey started grabbing toys – trucks, cars, soldiers, dolls, anything that looked interesting – he moved quickly, the ruck filling. A sound to his right caused him to turn his head just as a little old nun, obviously dead, came at him with her arms raised, the lower half of her chin missing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned, and swung his machete, crushing the nun’s skull.
A second, older nun came out from a section of women’s jackets, half of her scalp gone as she started moaning, arms rising up.
Corey prepared to swing when Brian slipped up behind her and split her skull.
She collapsed on top of the shorter nun, and Brian shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” Brian said. “I just killed a fucking zombie nun.”
Terrence
“How are we for ammunition?” Terrence asked.
Ernst poured him a cup of coffee. “Not great. Well, I have a lot, but in all actuality, it is a finite supply. We really need to conserve until we can either salvage some more, or learn to make our own.”
“I’m going to side with salvage and conserve,” Terrence chuckled. “You know, Ernst, I’ve been through a lot of things, but I really never thought, especially after Korea, that I could really be surprised.” He shook his head as Ernst handed him the coffee. “This, though,” he sighed, “this has surprised the hell out of me.”
“I understand completely,” Ernst said. “Granted, I was preparing for the end of the world, but I was pretty confident that it was going to be the normal, run of the mill apocalypse, and not the rising of the dead.”
Silence fell over the two of them as they drank their coffee, one of the dogs padding by on quiet feet. “You know,” Terrence said, “we should save the bullets for regular people, and anyone who gets infected. I know that that young sergeant says that people change within a few minutes, but that’s a hell of a long time when you know what you’re going to become.”
Ernst nodded. “I’m thinking that most regular people aren’t going to be afraid of machetes or spears, if we get some made up.”
Terrence grinned. “Probably not, son. Now, that Ham radio on the counter, it works?”
Ernst glanced at the radio, nodding. “It does. Do you know how to use one?”
“Ended up being a radio man in Korea, humping it up and down those valleys,” Terrence said, shaking his head. “Developed a love hate relationship with them, so, yes, I know how to use one of them.”
Ernst drank his coffee and looked at the
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