Lord of the Flies: A Zombie Story by Hatchell Dane

Author:Hatchell, Dane [Hatchell, Dane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Mind Hemorrhage Press
Published: 2012-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

“A-Rod steps up to the bag,” Ezra said, swinging the baseball bat slowly through empty air, warming up his muscles before connecting with his target. He set the bat to rest on his right shoulder, waiting for Jeremiah to call the pitch. Impatiently, he repeated, “A-Rod steps up to the bag.”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “Roger Clemens stands on the mound. He shakes his head once, he shakes his head twice, and now he gives the catcher a nod.”

A fresh looking walking cadaver pressed against the fence, its arms gouged by the three strands of barbed wire at the top that kept it a bay, its fingers inches away from Ezra.

“Clemens goes up in the windup and . . . turns around and scratches his nuts,” Jeremiah teased.

“Come on, Jer. Call the pitch.” Ezra eyed his target intently. The zombie’s teeth clacked together unnervingly in empty air.

“Clemens spits, winds up . . . it’s a fastball!” Jeremiah threw a mock pitch toward Ezra.

Ezra closed his eyes and reared back with the bat, then swung it across slamming into the zombie’s head just above its left ear.

The bat smashed into its head with such an impact the top of the skull dislodged completely and now hung down on the right side of the head, attached only by the scalp.

The brain was exposed and squished like gray Play-Doh to the right side. The zombie’s body shook violently, but the gruesome creature was undeterred from its insatiable hunger for living flesh.

“Strike one,” Jeremiah called.

Ezra shot Jeremiah an expression of disapproval, and brought the bat down with both hands on top of the zombie’s open skull. The putrid gray mass exploded in small bits mixed with blood and vile body fluids. It showered an area ten feet wide.

Ezra smiled as the zombie’s knees gave up its animation and fell limp. The body stayed upright by the bite of the barbed wire. He turned and gave Jeremiah a smirk of victory.

“You got zombie goo all over you,” Jeremiah said.

Ezra looked down at the splatter that had painted his chest and arms. He couldn’t see his face peppered with the gore, but the smell worked its way into his nostrils. He heaved twice, and finally give back his breakfast.

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