A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse by Shawn Chesser

Author:Shawn Chesser [Chesser, Shawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: special forces, Delta Force, post apocalyptic, Zombie Apocalypse, walking dead, undead, armageddon, zombies
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Three, four, five,” Ted muttered under his breath.

Ever since the immaculately dressed young airman had delivered the news of William’s sudden death, he had spent nearly every waking moment equally divided between mourning his partner and formulating his final exit plan.

That he hadn’t been able to see Will’s body infuriated him. Pneumonia was the suspected cause of death he had been told. They were going to come find him so he could pay his respects... but. Why did there always have to be a but, Ted thought at the time. Oxygen fire, he had been told. The infirmary had burned hot with Will’s body still inside. Too tired from all of the running and killing and death of the last few days, he took them at their word. Done fighting anything and everything, he had slipped into a deep depression.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen... that’s how they do it, he thought to himself as he tightened the knot. Then he glanced up at the two-by-fours and covered his ears. “This is getting old,” he shouted, barely able to hear his own raised voice. The tent shook slightly. The thin canvas ceiling did little to insulate the droning roar approaching from the east as yet another noisy airplane skimmed the base on approach to the nearby runway.

He had dropped three obvious hints that he wanted to be left alone. Finally, after a blatant lie that involved Yoga and his impending nudity, Sasha and her constantly running mouth vacated his tent.

Finally alone and able to think clearly, Ted mulled over his options, and in between bouts of uncontrollable crying and inconsolable rage he made up his mind.

He penned a brief note which stated in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be left alone and affixed it to the outside of the front door. That should keep Sasha away, he thought to himself. Then he picked up the worthless tangle of keys. He had been kidding himself when he stuffed these in his pocket, he mused. The faithful old blue Subaru, with only nine payments left, sat wrecked in the middle of I-25 near Castle Rock. And as far as his condominium at the Viscount Arms which he owned free and clear—without William—he was never, ever going to return to that tomb.

He removed the clear plastic photo fob from the wire key ring and discarded the rest on the adjacent bunk. Will’s face, though sunburned, radiated the happiness they had shared on their ‘honeymoon’ trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. He held the tiny faded picture in his palm and for the first time in more than a week felt something other than despair or loneliness touch his heart. That something was fleeting and ethereal—try as he might, no matter how hard he stared at the silver dollar-sized photo, he couldn’t replicate the emotion.

You can’t do this Ted, he silently chastised himself. You’re a shrink, Ted... you know better Ted... his conscience went on. Trying to ignore the mental prattle, he scaled the folding chair and cinched one end of the rope to the tent’s ceiling supports with a strong double knot.

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