Revenence (Novella 2): Dead Tired by Betts M.E

Author:Betts, M.E. [Betts, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2016-05-26T04:00:00+00:00

Adrian stepped out into the sun-drenched morning, fishing through his backpack for his wrap-around sunglasses. He slid the ends carefully beneath the edge of his 'do rag, then pushed them firmly onto the bridge of his nose. Beneath the fabric wrapping his head, his scalp was shorn and itchy, the stubble left behind catching on the cloth. Although he had shaved his head, he left the overgrown, unkempt beard and mustache that had accumulated in his time on the road. The rest of his facial hair was shaved down, matching his head. His bones, muscles, and even his skin seemed to throb as a result of the impact he had suffered due to his crash.

He left the parking lot of the building in which he, Ragtop and Dean had spent the night, approaching a thrift store across the street. He tried the door, finding it open, and entered the store.

Inside, he was greeted by the smell and feel of stale, dark, cool air. He shined the beam of a flashlight across the small interior. Although the front door had been left unlocked, Adrian had the impression that not many had been in the store for some time. The dust and overall atmosphere appeared undisturbed.

He made his way toward a circular rack full of men's shirts on hangers. As he rustled the garments, clouds of dust emerged, floating upward and into the shaft of sunlight coming from the southeastern window.

His gaze panned down the beam of light and toward the doorway through which he had entered. He noticed a cluster of small, taxidermied animals piled up near the door, including several mounted heads. As he looked from one dismembered head to the next, his eyes seized on one in particular. He realized that it had come from a human, or at least a very fresh zombie. Its lifeless stare met Adrian's gaze, and the acutely eerie sensation hastened his search for a shirt.

"I don't even wanna fuckin' know," he said as he chose a well-worn black muscle shirt with the Confederate flag on the front, the word REBEL scrawled beneath it. He grabbed a baggy, long-sleeved denim shirt to layer over the sleeveless garment, hurrying out the door past the mounted animals and body parts.

"You find what you needed?" Ragtop called as he saw Adrian heading across the street with the newly acquired clothing bundled in his arms. The truck was already running, and Dean waited behind the wheel.

"Yeah," Adrian said, opening the door and climbing in. He removed his trench coat, preparing to change his clothes. "Let's get the hell outta this place."

"Alright," Ragtop said as he settled in on the end, pulling his door closed. "You heard the man, Dean."

The trio detoured briefly eastward, retrieving Adrian's motorcycle and loading it into the back of the truck. They drove back to Groom, traveling to the opposite side of town and stashing the bike there, in a nondescript shed behind a neighborhood dwelling. Adrian sighed as he left the motorcycle behind and turned toward the idling truck, where Ragtop and Dean waited.

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