Monsters Heroes Cowboys & Zombies by Manning Brian

Author:Manning, Brian [Manning, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime Fighting, Kaiju, humor, Giant Monsters, monsters, zombie, Fantasy, western, Powers and Abilities, short story
Publisher: MAD Digital
Published: 2013-07-20T07:00:00+00:00

LIFE WORTH LIVING

The lone figure crouched next to the tree with one armed draped around its slim trunk. Using the monocular in her free hand, she visually scoured the yard around the house. She slowed her breathing to a shallow pace, to pick up any suspicious sounds. The home was abandoned, and after several minutes, she decided there were no lurkers in the vicinity. Using the sleeve of her flannel jacket, she casually wiped her nose and mouth, more out of habit these days.

“Stop using your sleeve. I just washed that shirt.” Her mother said

Glancing down, the bright red smear revealed the aftermath of her Kool-Aid mustache shave. She just looked up and giggled.

She opened her eyes again, not realizing they had been shut. The memory had felt so real. The sound of her mother's voice. The rich vibrant stain on her favorite shirt. Almost like it happened yesterday, and not in another lifetime a decade ago. Satisfied the path was clear, she tucked the monocular into the side pocket of her backpack. Shouldering the burden with her left arm, she moved quietly toward the driveway.

The rusted out husk of an old Ford pickup truck provided cover so she could get a closer look at the door. The chances of finding anything of value in this house weren't looking so hot anymore. The door hung open slightly, and now that she was closer, she could see that a large section on the bottom was kicked in. She rested her hand on the grip of the Sig Sauer P226 holstered at her right hip. Knowing it was there helped to reassure her, getting her heart rate, and breathing back to normal.

She wasn't fully comfortable with the idea of using it, although she was happy to have it. The pistol was loud, and lit up dark rooms when fired, and she only carried one spare magazine. It was definitely a last resort tool to make her escape. Still, it was far better than nothing. Strapped to the side of her backpack was the quiet way to get the job done. Affectionately named the Point of No Return, she grabbed the 28 inch length of rebar. The makeshift weapon was ground down to a long 4-inch point on one end, with the other half wrapped in para cord.

She pulled the backpack up onto both shoulders, but left the waist strap unbuckled. Always a good idea to be able to drop it quickly if it got snagged or grabbed. She held the Point firmly in both hands pointed forward, like a very short spear, and walked calmly across the unkempt front yard. Her eyes darted side to side with each carefully placed step.

Once reaching the front entrance, she used her weapon to slowly push the door inward. Hinges squeaked complaining of months of neglect. The door hit something and stopped, just after the halfway point. Her left boot crossed the threshold, so she could lean in and peek around the door. The heel of a foot poked out from behind the door.

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