The Last 21 by Morrison Donald

Author:Morrison, Donald [Morrison, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Dark Forest Publishing
Published: 2019-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

Day 12

The police station was still, a deathly quiet more than Officer Gonzales had ever heard filling the halls. The usual sound of chatter and radio codes scratching through static was gone, the bustle of officers returning and leaving for their shifts replaced by a silence that pressed in on all sides.

It had been three days since the National Guard had arrived and local police had been ordered to fall back. Most of the officers had either fled home to their families or lost their uniforms in an effort to avoid becoming targets in the local riots.

The first few days had been easy, what was thought to be violent attacks rising, drug addicts and citizens being attacked by the homeless and unregistered vagrants. The next few days it had gotten worse. Then three days prior to this, it had turned into a nightmare. The streets had become a walking horror story, the dead coming back to life, zombies tearing people apart, roads blocked by totaled cars, gunshots and screams filling the air.

Gonzales had gone to the only place that made him feel safe; the station.

Six months prior to this his wife and child had been killed in a car accident while visiting family in Mexico. Everything he loved and cared about had been taken from him. He had spent the next three months on psychiatric leave and upon returning, had put his life behind him, reattaching his badge and dedicating his life to law enforcement.

Now he sat in an abandoned station with the world falling apart around him, staring at the floor, wrapped in a cloak of helplessness as he beat himself with the realization that there was nothing he could do. There was no stopping what had begun.

A half an hour went by as Gonzales sat on the cold tile floor in front of his locker, a picture of his late wife and child hanging limply between his fingers. His eyes had fallen to the egg shell tile beneath his feet, and it wasn’t until the sound became loud enough for him to realize it was approaching fast that he yanked his gaze away, pulled his pistol and spun to the door.

“WHOA!” a young man in a crimson splattered t-shirt and jeans said as he charged into the doorway, running face first into the business end of a Desert Eagle 45. “It’s me man,” he said, his hands raising slowly into the air in front of him.

“Polk?” Gonzales said, his voice a strained whisper as he lowered his pistol and slid it back into his holster. “I thought you’d taken off like everyone else.”

“What are you still doing here man?” Polk asked, still standing in the spot he had stopped in. “It’s a fucking warzone out there.” He paused, a squint flashing through his eyes. “You know it’s only a matter of time till people come here looking for guns and ammo right. You think they’re gonna be cool when they find you in here, still in uniform? They’re gonna kill you quicker than those things outside would.

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