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Sunday, May 18, 2008

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun

Chapter 22

Sheriff Root peered from behind the water trough. When the people inside the hotel had advanced on those monsters, he had ducked back in his office. It had been a tough choice, to help those escaping the hotel, or keep his word to the survivors in the saloon. Ultimately Root grabbed the guns and ammo and opened the front door. The spare cartridges were tucked in a ruck sack over his shoulder and he tucked several pistols into his belt.

Root made it into some cover behind a water trough about halfway down the main road before he was close enough to join the fight. By the time he had gotten in range though, most of the fighting was over. Ducking into a near door, he realized it was just a matter of time before the beasts finished with the dead, and then they would turn to him. Root risked another glance at the balcony of the saloon, trying to catch the eye of the boy Oates. If he could provide some cover fire, and if Root was really lucky, he may be able to make the saloon.

Root tried to catch Billy's attention, but the boy seemed in shock from the screams coming from the hotel. Root himself steeled his hearing to the sounds of the women and children, of the horror going on inside the hotel. It was to late for them, but it might not be to late for the rest of them. He backed into the doorway as the screams finally grew quiet, the only sounds the shuffling of the beats within and on the streets, eating the dead. Root glanced out again, in a last attempt to gain Oates attention. That's when he heard another scream, a woman's scream. Coming from the saloon. Billy ran back inside, and Root watched as the creatures began to converge on the new sound. It was then he realized he might be to late.

End of Line.
Gerrad!

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