Nightlight Tales 2: A Collection of Horror Short Stories by Anthony Renfro

Author:Anthony Renfro [Renfro, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-04-20T00:00:00+00:00

11

A Zombie Christmas 2

December the 23rd

Mike Beem lowered his rifle, put his right eye on the scope, and closed his left. The zombie he was about to shoot was an ugly sucker. He stood about five feet tall, and was currently surrounded by 10 other zombies – all of them dead, rotten, and ugly. They were currently trying to kill a frantic man standing on top of a closed dumpster. He was waving a dying flare at them, firing an empty pistol over and over again in hopes that magic bullets would appear in the chamber the longer he kept firing.

Bam!

The five foot tall zombie lost his head. Blood and maggot filled brains splattered a nearby wall and part of the dumpster. Mike aimed again, and another zombie lost its head, then another and another and another until all of them lay splattered on the ground in front of the dumpster.

The man on top of the trash bin looked up at the top of the building as the flare died out, and waved to his savior, who was currently in the shadows. Mike waved back as another zombie shambled down the alley towards the man. Mike slung the gun over his shoulder and shimmied down the escape ladder, landing on the ground inches behind the zombie – a woman with dirty entrails dragging out behind her. She turned to bite, and Mike shoved a knife into her skull. He pulled the blade out, wiping it off as he let her drop to the ground, and made his way over to the man on the dumpster.

The man was just climbing down when Mike reached him.

“Hell of a night to be out,” Mike replied, as snow began to fall.

The man fell into Mike’s arms, and the two strangers embraced like long lost friends. Mike pulled the guy back and looked him in the face. He was at least in his mid-thirties, dirty, and dehydrated. His brown hair was matted to his skull, and his eyes were red from fatigue and worry. Mike felt a pang of sadness race across his heart when he looked into those red eyes. They were his eyes the night he lost his entire family. The first night of the zombies. The first night he ceased to be Mike Beem. The first night he became this new guy he was now.

“Thank you,” the man gravely spit the words out on a raspy voice.

“Name’s Mike.”

“Donny.” They shook hands. “We got trapped down here. We couldn’t go anywhere. We just -” He fell into a fit of tears, leaning against the side of the dumpster for support.

“We?” Mike asked, as the dumpster lid opened and the haggard face of a woman in her late twenties popped out of it.

Looking worse than the man, she shimmied out of the can and into the safety of her husband’s arms. They embraced – happy and safe until they realized something. A storm of worry simultaneously raced across both their faces.

The man rushed over to a nearby trash can, and ripped open the lid.

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