Welcome to the Zomburbs by S P Blackmore

Author:S P Blackmore [Blackmore, S P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2016-12-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

As it turned out, I might have spoken too soon.

The three of them—Howie, Angie, and Nathan—gathered in the kitchen with us. They had a shotgun, the crossbow, and a really hideous sword between the two of them, though Angie had also created makeshift weapons out of common kitchen appliances. I can’t say I daydreamed about how I could best make mincemeat of a zombie with a blender blade, but now I knew it would be at the back of my mind.

“So where were you hiding out?” Rodney asked.

“The treehouse,” Howie replied. “Seemed safer.”

“The treehouse? In what world—”

“You didn’t check it.”

Rodney closed his mouth, picked up his big gun, and went back outside, presumably to do some reconnaissance.

I, of course, got roped into fixing Nathan’s arm. He sat there sulking while I attempted to pick out the bullet without doing more damage. Our basic injectable painkillers were probably not quite what he needed, but I gave him as much as I dared before getting to work. He maintained it was just an ache. By the way he grimaced, it was far worse, but I couldn’t just leave him there with a bullet in him.

Rodney had at least aimed for the right place. Provided I didn’t botch things, the wound would heal up just fine.

“Do you actually know how to use this thing?” Poltava asked, inspecting the crossbow.

“No,” Nathan said. “But the zombies don’t know that.”

Zombies don’t know much of anything. “Pro tip, kid,” I said, “When we get to camp, call them revenants.”

Nathan’s face squished up into a frown. “Revenants? Why?”

“The general decreed it.”

“Who’s the general?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him.” I finally spotted the bullet and braced myself to go in after it. “Maybe he’s not real.”

“He’s real,” Poltava groused. “And he’s declared that zombies are to be referred to as revenants, so…just do that.”

Angie, who up till now had not said much, folded her hands in her lap. “Everything that’s going on and he issues declarations about the undead? Things must be very safe in your Camp Elderwood.”

“Safer than out here,” I said, holding up a pair of tweezers.

Tony studied our newly expanded group from his spot against the kitchen counter. “Why didn’t you guys come in earlier?”

“We saw the herd go by,” Angie said. “We thought it would be safe to come inside and get some food…”

“So you sent your kid?”

“He’s faster,” Angie said. “And sneakier than both of us.”

“And threatened to carve someone up like a sushi chef.”

Howie scowled at his son. “What did I tell you about being polite to strangers?”

Nathan almost yanked his arm away from me as I made my way in. “It’s the apocalypse!”

“That’s even more reason to be polite. You don’t know what kind of heat people are packing.” Howie looked at my old rifle with respect. “Life isn’t a video game, son.”

I grasped the bullet, lifted it out, and examined it. It seemed intact; no signs of shattering, which meant no bits of metal lodged in the kid’s wound. I bent my head back over the hole and started searching for excess pieces of cloth from his shirt.

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