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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun

Episode 6: (Part Two)


The Sheriff quickly clamped his eyes shut and turned his head sideways as the zombie's head exploded in a shower of decaying brains and thick congealed blood. Root rolled the heavyset creature to his side and wiped some residue off of his face before turning to his savior.

Katee Sinclair stood in the doorway to the Pullman car, her threadbare dress torn, exposing her long legs, the smoking barrel of the Colt pistol still held in both hands. She looked around the car before holstering the Colt in her gun belt. She brushed an errant strand of hair away before looking back to him.

"You exposed Sheriff?"

Root pulled down the sleeve of his shirt, hiding the long claw marks on his arm. "Bit of a scrape, but I'll be fine. Helluva a shot Katee. Get Billy in here, it won't be long 'fore those son's a bitches get through that door."

As Katee turned away, Root reached into his vest's inner pocket, pulling out a small flask. He took a quick pull before splashing a bit on his torn flesh. He bit his lip as the dark liquor burned in the wound.

"This is gonna get fuckin' worse...."

End of Line.

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