Revenence (Novella): Dead Red by M.E. Betts

Author:M.E. Betts [Betts, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2015-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Heather lay atop a wooden picnic table, painted green and covered in words, shapes and symbols etched onto its top and benches. Beside her head, the word "I" and "BUTTHOLE" were carved into the wood, separated by a crude heart. She lay sulking with her arms folded beneath her head, scowling as she stared up toward the sky. Her mind was on Red's new obsession, the young redhead whom everyone had been calling Scarlet.

I wish they'd have killed her when they had the chance, she thought in reference to Scarlet's escape from her two escorts. The uninjured of the two had informed Red via the radio of what had happened, and the fact that the enraged captive was now at large. She sighed, focusing her blue eyes absently on a brighter spot in the dark, overcast sky, where the moon struggled to shine through the clouds. Now the bitch is on the loose.

About fifty feet from the picnic table, a gentle brook babbled. Its muted cascading was drowned out by the conversation going on upstream, where Heather's current superior argued over her walkie-talkie with Red.

"What do you mean?" Heather heard Cynthia demand. "Red, that crazy little cunt is coming for us. I don't care that your little fantasy love story isn't gonna happen."

Heather rolled her eyes, reaching for her earbuds and phone in her pocket. She inserted the earbuds, then scrolled through her phone, choosing a playlist from her rather limited pre-zombie music library. The argument going on down the way was hushed by the twang of pop country as Heather shifted onto her side. She peered out into the darkened wood with her hands folded, prayer-like, beneath the left side of her face.

She didn't want any more reminders of Red's affection for Scarlet.

I was close, she lamented, recalling the night she had spent with Red after plying him with liquor, the night that had left her sore and bruised the next morning. I almost had him, and then she showed up.

"Don't know what he sees in her," she said aloud in a soft, sing-song tone. "She's a ginger with, like, no boobs whatsoever."

The rest of the group was further upstream and past Cynthia, whom Heather could still hear on the walkie-talkie as she and Red continued to shout back and forth at one another.

"And we never even got to deal with Michelle and Evan before this shit broke out," Cynthia said. "Who knows where the hell they are? And Red, I have to ask--were you trying to abandon us back there?"

Heather's playlist resumed. As she stared into the dark woods, a projectile emerged, spinning through the air in her direction. A fraction of a second later, the wooden object was burrowed two inches into her left ocular cavity. She died immediately of shock, her back toward her group, as she lay on her side atop the table with her music still playing.

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